I have a pet. His name is Charlie. He's an insect, a kind of unusal pet, I know. But he keeps me company and I feel he deserves to be alive on Earth as much as I do. I tell him he's welcome to go anywhere in my apartment he wants, except on my face when I'm sleeping. One day he's crawling along my computer keyboard;  I wait til he gets all the way across. The next day, I find him in the bathroom sitting on the edge of the sink. I don't know how he gets enough to eat and drink to stay alive, but I'm no expert on insects anyway. What I do know pretty much for sure is that he hasn't killed a human being, probably never has intentionally been unkind to one. That's more than I can say about people who are mean in spirit, or worse. I love Charlie. I have never killed any other living creature since I shot a sparrow dead with my new BB gun when I was seven and a rabbit and a squirrel with my 22 when I was in the 8th grade. I guess I finally grew up.

Copyright 2020 Tod Howard Hawks