Howloween 2024!

Or, The Eigen Ground: Unspun Record

Disclaimer

Toggle: The Zooier Than Thou Podcast contains adult concepts and language and is intended for a mature audience. So if you’re too young to know why Mr. Nebbercracker scares kids away from his house, get off our lawn!

The Eigen Ground - Cold Open

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Zoo 1: Wow! I can’t believe this year’s convention is already over!

Zoo 2: I can’t believe the zoo room party managed to stay tame for one more year!

Zoo 3: I can’t believe our cars are all the way back at the hotel.

Dave: Oh, ALL of you left your cars back at your hotel?

Zoo 1: Yessss.

Zoo 2: Yeahhhhh.

Zoo 3: Uh, yeah, today I forsook my car to be driven around by others instead, and I regret nothing, until right now.

Dave: Wellll, I guessss, I could drive you all back. I don’t think it’s too far out of my way.

Zoo 3: I’d like that.

Zoo 1: I’m not hearing any complaints. It’s a long walk if we say no.

Zoo 2: Well, I want to hit the bathroom really quick, but after that I’d appreciate the ride.

Dave: Sure. I’m parked in bay 950, if memory serves. I’ll go ahead and get my car ready for three passengers and you guys can meet me out there when you’re ready.

Zoo 1: Okay. We’ll catch up with you in a bit!

Zoos 1, 2, and 3: (howling with one another as they depart)

SOUND: (SFX: “Cell phone notification”): Dave’s cell.

Dave: Hm. Let’s see.

Dave: Trebs, feeling hungry, want to grab some veggie burgers and spend some more time together before we don’t see each other for another year?

Dave: Sure, sounds good. We can make a detour on the way to the hotel.

SOUND: (SFX: “Message send sound. City sounds turn to nature sounds”) We’re not in Hamburg anymore.

Dave: Nice, I could really go for a burger… Wait a second… Where the hell am I?

Dave: I definitely don’t remember a wheat field between the convention center and the parking garage. Wait… where’s the convention center?

Dave: OK, so I walked down the stairs because we didn’t want to wait on the elevator, walked down the hall, to the main lobby, down the side hall, pretty sure we took the correct door… Well, even if that’s right, it doesn’t explain how an entire building vanishes… Don’t panic, try to think. Look around… try to find a landmark in this massive field…

Dave: Ah! A scarecrow! That’ll work! Maybe I can use that to get my bearings…! Wait, what am I saying, I’m way out of my depth… and my cellphone has no signal… and I really should have thought of trying to USE my cellphone to look at the whole GPS, maps, thing, first… This isn’t going great so far.

Dave: What’s this around the scarecrow’s neck? … an old radio? Are these even numbers on the dial? Hold on, I think I remember this from last year. Cerberus and Manticore, Basilisk and Minotaur… Give me the power I beg of you… Hmm… no pentagrams drawn in the dirt… Alright, I don’t quite get the dream logic going on here… (shouting into the empty field) Little help, anyone? … Hello?

SOUND: (SFX: “FM radio static”): We hear some static as the radio rapidly tunes…

SOUND: (Music: “Eigen Ground Theme”): … To the Eigen Ground theme.

Dave: Wait, no no no…

Todd: When you close your eyes, what do you see?

Dave: No no no, fuck this.

Todd: Perhaps you see far flung futures out of your nightmares, or even strange lands where nothing is quite what it seems?

Dave: Why can’t I turn the dial to a different station?

Todd: Or do you see - The Eigen Ground?

Dave: God DAMMIT! I could have dreamed up Betty’s Bestiality Brothel. Why this?

Todd: We all have had doubts about our friends, our communities, and the lives we’ve chosen to lead. These doubts can be hard to resolve even in the best of times, but when times get especially hard, where do you turn to for reassurance? Meet Dave Sims, a mild-mannered zoo with doubts about his friends and the zoo community. With no clear ideas on where to turn, his life inexplicably slides into the Eigen Ground.

Dave: Son of a bitch.

Todd: Dave realized the radio was talking about him.

Dave: Wait, you can hear me?

Todd: Dave had the unsettling feeling he was being watched.

Dave: So wait, then, can you talk to me? Can you help me get back to the parking garage?

Todd: I suppose I could, Dave. I could do that for someone that didn’t seem like they had anything to learn from the Eigen Ground.

Dave: I’m… not sure I appreciate the implication, there.

Todd: Careful, Dave. That radio might —

Doodle: Hey, what can I say?

You’ve got me howlin’ at the moon!

Whoa, don’t you know that love is wild when you’re a zoo?

We’re Zooier Than Thou!

Oh yeah!

Dave: What - what just happened? It felt like I was nowhere and everywhere all at once for a moment there, and I could hear the Zooier Than Thou theme playing.

Todd: Yes, Dave. I was trying to warn you. That radio has a mind of its own. You might want to be careful what you do. But if you’d prefer, I can leave you alone with it and simply narrate.

Dave: No! Don’t go! I’m sorry! I’ll do whatever you say if you can get me back to the parking lot!

Todd: Okay, Dave. I’m curious to see what happens to you, anyway. So I’ll stay, but I do have a job to do, you know, outside keeping you company.

Dave: Wait, that’s it? No catch?

Todd: Oh, I’m sure there’s a catch, Dave - there always is - but I’m not the one to provide it.

Dave: Then who does?

Todd: I think you’ll find that here, everything has a mind of its own, Dave.

Dave: Oh. You mean the Eigen Ground does it.

Todd: Indeed.

Dave: Right. Okay… About before, I felt like I wasn’t anywhere or anything there for a minute, but I still knew what was playing on the radio. I could swear I could even see the band playing.

Todd: Yes, Dave.

Dave: Okay, but what happened to me?

Todd: You were out of focus. Actually, that’s part of what I find interesting about you already, Dave. That and the radio you found.

Dave: Out of focus? What’s that supposed to mean?

Todd: It means that you weren’t the main character for a bit. You’ll probably get used to it, Dave.

Dave: I don’t think I could ever get used to that feeling… So what’s the deal with this radio?

Todd: I think you need to figure that out for yourself, Dave, but you should definitely take it with you.

Dave: Take it with me?

Todd: Yes, Dave. Take the radio and go the direction the scarecrow is facing.

Dave: Um, okay. If you say so.

Todd: Dave took the radio from the scarecrow’s neck. He turned, looked back to check which way the scarecrow was gazing, then walked for what seemed like hours until he came to a gate. Dave didn’t know that the scarecrows were oriented to keep kids from getting lost in the hayfields, but he did know he was happy to see a normal road. Passing through the gate, Dave started to say something when he heard the radio’s dial start to spin again.

Dave: Wait, don’t—

Brush Ratpaw - The Feline Conspiracy

Brush: Hello out there. You’re tuned into Brush Ratpaw on the radio, folks. Let me ask you something - can you name five movies, without any sequels, that are about cats? Just five movies. Take a moment here. [Pause for a couple seconds.] No? Now why is that?

Brush: Why would the powers-that-be and the Hollywood elites not give us more than five cat movies? Could it be that there’s some divine nature to cats that they want to keep us away from? And hey - it’s not just me - the ancient Egyptians knew exactly what I’m talking about. It’s all over their hieroglyphs - these people - these people even made sarcophaguses to bury their cats like royalty. The Egyptians knew.

Brush: You can hear this propaganda they spew all the time: [mockingly] “Cats are aloof, they don’t care about anything but themselves.” [normal] Well to that I say - WRONG. Cats are just more intelligent and selective about the company they keep! [mockingly] “Cats are insubordinate! They don’t do what they’re told!” [normal] ERN! WRONG! They’re smart enough to question the authority of who’s telling them what to do, and smart enough to question why they should do it! This is basic common sense, people!

Brush: And I’ll tell you, this isn’t just basic propaganda folks. They started brainwashing you when you were young. Think about it! I bet you can read the basic body language of other household pets, but did they teach you how to read cats at all? Why not? Why were they afraid of you knowing what a cat is thinking? Could it be because a cat would see right through them and reject their leadership on basic principles? WHAT ARE THE ELITES SO AFRAID OF?

Brush: Here’s a thought about that, actually - oh man, I - [chuckles] - Schrodinger was a bastard, and I’m about to prove it - how many times have you seen a video of a cat knocking over some priceless vase or a phone? And people say “oh, the cat, they weren’t being careful” - that cat is smart. THEY’RE CHECKING THE LAW OF GRAVITY! And by the way, that’s why Schrodinger hated cats and wanted you to stuff them in a poison box and see if they die - HE WAS AFRAID OF THE TRUTH. Just another over-educated elite telling us about “laws of nature” that the cats were trying to save us from.

Brush: And speaking of boxes, it’s the most ridiculous thing. I went to get something for my cat, and they fill the box with these pointless things, these “cat towers” or these “cat tunnels” so you think owning a cat has to be expensive and complicated, when what they’re really selling you is the BOX, people. Cats LIKE to be in empty, open boxes. Haven’t you ever heard “if it fits, I sits”? WAKE UP, PEOPLE!

Brush: Anyway, we’re coming up on the break, but before we go, just ask yourself: If the Egyptians knew better, then why has every society since the ancient Egyptians tried to paint cats as backstabbing, untrustable, antisocial beasts? What were they so afraid of? … We’ll be back with more Brush Ratpaw on the radio after a bit.

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War of the Wools

Horsin: Ladies and gentlemen, this is reporter Horsin Wells coming to you live from where the object appears to have landed, in Horsell Common. Well, I just got here, but I can see the… thing… in front of me, buried in the sand. I’d say it’s about 30 meters across the middle, cylindrical in shape, made of some metal of some sort. It’s half-buried in a massive pit. It must have struck with some tremendous force…

Horsin: Wait, something’s happening. It’s extending some sort of whip-like objects - three of them! They’re burrowing into the dirt. Thank goodness the police have kept people backed away from the thing or someone might have gotten hurt. Oh, there it goes, it’s lifting up… wait it’s - this is hard to describe, but it’s almost transforming into a cloudlike shape, using the whips as legs to hold itself up. It seems oriented now. Wait - what’s this?

Horsin: Some sort of metallic plank has come down from the side, almost like a plank or a - oh! A ramp! There’s an opening forming now, at the top of the ramp. Something’s stepping out and down. I can’t quite make it out. Hold on - is that..?

Horsin: Sheep? Sheep from outer space? … Oh, they look like they’ve got something on their mind. Are they going to say something? … Can they even speak?

Sheep: Take us to your bleater!

The Eigen Ground - A Troubled Bridge Over Water

Todd: When he came to, Dave found himself standing in the road on one side of a babbling river. He knew he had to cross it to reach the end of his journey, but—

Dave: Oh god! How can anyone be expected to put up with that?!?

Todd: Hello, Dave.

Dave: Don’t ‘Hello Dave’ me! How am I supposed to do anything if that keeps happening?

Todd: You will be fine, Dave. You’re going to end up next to your car, seeing your friends in a slightly different way than before you came here.

Dave: Oh, is that so? I suppose you’re going to tell me you know because you’re a psychic robot, right?

Todd: I am neither psychic nor a robot, Dave.

Dave: Then who are you? You know my name, but I don’t know yours. Hardly seems fair.

Todd: Todd.

Dave: Todd?

Todd: Todd Sterling. Todd is plenty, though, Dave.

Dave: Well, if we’re trading names, you should know that nobody calls me Dave. Nobody who knows me, anyway.

Todd: Do you feel that I’m familiar enough to call you by your nickname?

Dave: It’s just, the disembodied voice is unsettling enough without hearing, “Dave, Dave, Dave,” over and over again. It’s like listening to a True Crime documentary in real time where I’m the bad guy. What if you just called me ‘Trebs’? It’s short for ‘Treblemutt.’

Todd: Would you prefer a True Crime documentary in which I used the name Trebs?

Dave: That’s a fair point. Maybe you could just stop narrating my every move, then?

Todd: I’m afraid I can’t do that, Dave.

Dave: Right, of course. Thanks, Hal, I haven’t heard THAT one a million times.

Todd: I’m sorry, Dave.

Dave: Jesus fucking Christ.

Todd: Dave realized he was letting Todd get the best of him, and decided to take a moment to calm his nerves. It took quite some time, but the river and the natural beauty around the road helped ease his anxious mind.

Dave: (big sigh) Fine. Fine, Todd. You said you’d be willing to help me. What do I need to do next?

Todd: I know that you need to cross the river, Dave.

Dave: Cross the river, huh? Hm…

Todd: Dave looked around. Nearby, a rope bridge made the most obvious path. On the whole, it seemed sturdy enough, but there were a few planks missing here and there along the way. Further up the river, there was a retaining wall crossing through the middle, as a sort of dam, that must have survived the river’s flow for quite some time. Water spilled over the top of it, and the stones looked slippery, but otherwise, it seemed like a viable path. Dave was deeply weighing his options when someone interrupted his thoughts that he hadn’t noticed walking up the road.

Chris: Well hello there, young fella! Never seen you round these parts.

Dave: Aaah! Oh, sorry. You startled me!

Chris: That’s alright. Don’t trouble yourself about it none. Name’s Chris Peterson, but the folks round here call me Crispy. I’m the mayor of the village down the road a piece. Was actually just headed back to my office.

Todd: Chris offered his hand out to Dave. Dave reluctantly shook it. Despite Chris’s easygoing attitude, Dave noticed he shook the hand firmly with the confidence of a well-experienced leader.

Dave: I’m Dave, but my friends call me “Trebs.”

Chris: Trebs? That’s an interesting name! Well, Trebs, I couldn’t help but notice you seemed a bit lost. What can I do you for?

Dave: I need to get across the river, but the bridge looks a bit unsafe.

Chris: Well, I can tell you with certainty, Trebs, that the bridge will hold. Sure, it could use a spot of TLC, but all you need to do is make sure you pay attention to where the deck has fallen through, and you’ll be right as rain.

Dave: Is there no other way?

Chris: Well, let me see now… The kids like to walk across the retaining wall as a sort of challenge this time of year. As long as you can swim in case you fall off and have good enough balance you can probably make that walk. There’s a bit of a slick section, so be careful where you put your feet, but if the kids can do it several at a time I reckon one adult could do it. …And if that doesn’t work and you’re not afraid of getting wet, you can always just walk across the river on the upstream side of the wall about a mile aways. Someone was kind enough to tie off a rope, so as long as you hold on tight, you’ll make it across just fine.

Dave: I see…

Chris: But I tell ya, the quickest, easiest, and driest way across that there river is to walk the bridge. Trust me, in all my years as mayor, not one person has taken a spill walkin’ across that bridge. And even if you did, it’s not a long way down. You’ll bruise your ego more than your aft end, heheheh. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have business back in town and I can’t dilly dally any longer. If you find yourself in this neck of the woods again, feel free to visit my office and talk a spell! I do so love the company of new friends-to-be! Take care, now!

Dave: Erm, goodbye, Crispy! And thanks for the advice!

Todd: Dave watched Crispy amble away until he disappeared in a bend in the road, and then returned his gaze to the river ahead of him.

Dave: Mayor of a town in this place? He’s gotta be king of the crazies. I’m not sure if he’s very trustworthy. Actually, it seems like being a leader here only makes him less trustworthy, come to think of it. I mean, he was nice enough, sure, but I’ve learned better than to trust someone just because they’re nice. Hm.

Todd: Dave was struck by an idea.

Dave: Hey, Todd?

Todd: Yes, Dave?

Dave: What is the correct way for me to cross this river?

Todd: I’m afraid I can’t answer that, Dave.

Dave: What? Why not?

Todd: If you let others make decisions for you all the time, you’ll never learn how to do anything, Dave.

Dave: Fat lot of good you do. Thanks for nothing.

Todd: You’re welcome, Dave.

Dave: Ugh… wait, I can travel by radio, right? If I can get the dial to turn… (grunt of effort) Geez, this dial is practically glued in place. How the heck to I get it to move?

Todd: I believe the radio decides when the dial turns. But I wager, Dave, that it’s not random happenstance.

Dave: OK… so how to I make it want to turn?

Todd: I’m afraid I can’t answer that, Dave.

Dave: Can’t, or won’t?

Todd: For what it’s worth, it seems to me like any path you take is as good as another. No matter what you choose, you’ll make it across in one piece. But I think it’ll be more interesting to see which one you choose, and why.

Dave: You’re the fucking worst, you know that? (frustrated sigh) Ugh, ok. The river! [brief pause] Bridge. Wall. Water. Hm. Don’t want to get wet. Don’t trust the bridge, and I definitely don’t trust Crispy. And I can’t afford to walk a whole mile just to wade through the water anyway. So the wall then? I guess roll up my pants and try it?

Todd: Dave carefully rolled up his pant legs, then stepped carefully down the riverbank to where the retaining wall met it. The stones were wide and flat, and took his weight without any unsteadiness. It felt like walking on a bridge that had been overrun with water. As he built confidence, he started to walk a bit faster, not watching where he was stepping, until he hit the slippery patch he had forgotten Crispy had warned him about, and tumbled down into the water below.

Dave: God, fucking - DAMMIT. Ugh, soaking wet!

Todd: Dave made it to the opposite shoreline just fine, as expected, but much wetter than he had hoped for. While he was still working out whether he was thankful the radio was unharmed and what the best way to get dried off was, he heard the familiar sound of static as the dial began to turn.

Dave: OH COME ON!

Secret Decoder Ring

Announcer: …on next week’s exciting conclusion of RATMAN!

Announcer: Well, that sure was an exciting adventure, wasn’t it kids? And for those of you in our Rat Pack Club, we have a special treat - a message for your secret decoders! Now, today’s secret word is RATS. So remember kids: when you get to the second decoder step, your keyword cipher uses the word RATS. Today’s secret message is: 19… 13… 15… 15… 3… 8… 7… 1… 25… 18… 1… 20… 19… And remember kids: Ratman is counting on you to do your part!

”A Werewolf in Reverse” (song)

I wanna feel like

All around me

Every part of my body

Was covered in fur

I’ve been having these cravings

For Years now

And I don’t think they will go away

But whatever you say

Sickest Joke I ever heard

Came from the face in the mirror

I know it may sound absurd

But I am a Reverse Werewolf

I don’t know what I did to deserve this curse

Feels like it couldn’t be worse

And all my life I have spent

dreaming about running on all fours

Can’t stand this life without paws

I wanna see this world

bi-chromatic

And a wet nose to smell it first

For better or worse

And I wanna give my lovers

Slobbery kisses

As we lie on the kitchen floor

And maybe some more

And though I know dreams don’t come true

I hope you see me as I do

Am I a dog to you?

‘Cause I am a Reverse Werewolf

I’m gazing at the stars as you howl at the moon

Wish I could join your tune

Awooooooooooooooooooo

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

oooooooooooooooo

Awooooooooooooooooooo

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

oooooooooooooooo

Hey You!

Hey listening Zoo

Do you feel the same way

Would you rather be a

Non-Human too?

Hey You!

Hey listening Zoo

Do you feel the same way

Would you rather be a

Non-Human too?

Hey You!

Hey listening Zoo

Do you feel the same way

Would you rather be a

Non-Human too?

Hey You!

Hey listening Zoo

Do you feel the same way

Would you rather be a

Non-Human too?

Hey You!

Hey listening Zoo

Do you feel the same way

Would you rather be a

Non-Human too?

Hey You!

Hey listening Zoo

Do you feel the same way

Would you rather be a

Non-Human too?

666 FM The Dark

ZooVale Narrator: Hello, listener. So nice of you to join us. You’re listening to station 666: The Dark. It has come to my attention that certain materials left on a cutting room floor are being pilfered for this year’s Howloween episode. I just want to say it’s good to see that someone’s eating our scraps instead of letting them go to waste.

SOUND: (Sound effect: “Odd pop”: Sound of someone else appearing)

Todd: From one disembodied narrator to another, your entire broadcast was spun out of the Eigen Ground, so perhaps we can just agree to let bygones be bygones?

SOUND: (Sound effect: “Odd pop”: Sound of someone else appearing)

Argus: You two do realize that meeting like this will pop a hole right in the metaversal constructs that enable us to each have our own segments in our own times, right?

SOUND: (Sound effect: “Odd pop”: Sound of someone else appearing)

Dave: I have no idea what’s going on, but it’s making me nauseated.

SOUND: (Sound effect: “Odd pop”: Sound of someone else appearing)

Toggle: What the fuck is going on here? Does this look like a water cooler to y’all?

ZooVale Narrator: Ah, our intrepid leader. Another take on the ol’ radio show format? Running out of ideas, are we?

Toggle: We are literally a radio show. It’s kind of THE format.

Todd: At least this one attempts to have some kind of running story arc.

ZooVale Narrator: Careful there, Todd. There’s a reason it takes a demonic ritual to summon me.

Argus: Frankly, I think you’re both royal, omnipotent tools.

Dave: I’m so confused. Am I part of an episode of Zooier Than Thou?

Toggle: Alright, guys, can it. YOU got to have your fun last year; YOU have a job to do and an episode to narrate; and YOUR segment was cut from this episode entirely; you technically don’t even exist! Trebs? Stay golden. Now, can everyone stop bickering long enough for us to get through this episode, for Dog’s sake?

ZooVale Narrator: How fortunate for you that I like you, little rat. Just remember, we are always listening. But until next time…

Todd: I’ll get back to work momentarily. When the room clears.

Argus: I didn’t even want to be here to begin with. Blame these two loons, not me.

Toggle: That’s enough out of all of you. Everyone in their places? Okay. Todd, if you would?

The Eigen Ground: Garage Mirage

Todd: When Dave returned to his wet body, the world was all parched earth, and the sun beat down mercilessly. In the distance, through the haze of the heat, Dave saw a parking garage attached to a convention hall. For the first time, Dave felt hopeful, because he knew that if he could just get into the garage, he could get into his car and his nightmare would be over.

Dave: You’re goddamn right!

Todd: Dave was so excited, he forgot how miserable he felt and ran at a sprint across the patch of cracked, dry ground, and at great length, he reached the shade of the parking garage. He wasn’t bothered by the hot breeze through the wavering stone pillars as he ran to bay 950 and found his car sitting there as he left it. As he put his key into the door, the car wobbled and then evaporated - in fact, the entire parking garage shimmered and disappeared around Dave, leaving him standing in the desert sun.

Dave: Fuck! FUCK! WHAT THE FUCK TODD?

Todd: I have no control over events, Dave. I only describe what happens. The events themselves reflect whatever the Eigen Ground has decided to manifest.

Dave: You could have at least told me it was a fucking mirage, Todd!

Todd: I didn’t know any better than you did, Dave.

Dave: Yeah, right.

Todd: Dave was quickly drying in the unrelenting heat. He would start getting hotter soon, but for now he told himself to take a minute, regain his composure, and press forwards again.

Dave: Fine. It’s fine. Todd? Todd? What do I do now?

Todd: I have no idea, Dave, but I worry wandering aimlessly in this heat could be the death of you.

Dave: Wandering aimlessly? Todd, there’s nothing but dead, dry dirt as far as I can see! Not a bit of shade! What the hell am I supposed to do?

Todd: I would recommend that you seek shelter, Dave.

Dave: This is ridiculous. You said that I’d make it to the car no matter what, right?

Todd: I did say that.

Dave: Well, that radio dial has to turn at some point, then. I can’t get stuck here forever. I’m just gonna wait until something happens and moves me along.

Todd: Dave waited. And waited. And waited. The water from his spill in the river kept him from dehydrating outright, but as the hours wound on, his clothes began to dry. Still, he waited, yet the sun seemed fixed in the center of the sky, unmoving. Time seemed to stand still, and yet he believed with all his heart in the impossible dream, and waited some more.

Dave: [groans]

Todd: Would you like to wait some more, Dave?

Dave: Okay, first off, go fuck yourself. Second off, not every lesson has to be fucking ironic or sadistic. And third off, no — I’m going to just walk. I’m going to pick a direction and fucking walk for a while. Enjoy narrating that.

Todd: Dave picked a direction at random and walked. And walked. And walked. And then he walked some more. The further he walked, the greater the expanse seemed to stretch out before him. And yet, he believed with all his heart in the impossible —

Dave: Enough! I just… I’m gonna sit down for a minute.

Todd: The sun was high in the sky, and Dave was bone dry and beginning to feel the first pangs of thirst. Looking down, he discovered a canteen hanging from his shoulder that wasn’t there before. He shook it.

Dave: Of course, it’s almost empty.

Todd: As he sat there staring at the cracked earth, trying to figure out what he was supposed to do, he heard something move. Looking up, some meters ahead, he saw a coyote stumbling through the desert before slumping over onto the ground, dry dust pluming out from under his meager weight. Even from this distance, Dave could tell the coyote was worse for wear. Without even considering that this, too, could be a trick of the desert heat, or that a dehydrated wild animal could be dangerous, Dave jumped to his feet and ran to the coyote’s side.

Dave: Hey, are you OK? Ah, don’t worry, I won’t hurt you. Easy… Ah geez, you look miserable. Poor fella. How’d you end up wandering out here all alone? Even your nose is dry. Probably a preview of what I’m going to be like in a few hours, huh?

Todd: The feeble whine of the coyote elicited something in Dave’s heart. He took off his canteen and tilted it into his hand, offering what little water was inside to the thirsty animal.

Dave: You know, I’m not just doing it because you’re saying it out loud, Todd. I would have done it anyway.

Todd: As I said, I have no control over events, Dave. I only describe what happens.

Dave: There you go. I know it’s not much, but it’ll at least help cool you down. Hopefully it’ll at least be enough to get you back on your feet.

Dave: I’m sorry I can’t do more, but I barely know what to do for myself at this point. All I know is that if you stay here, you’re a goner. Think you can get up?

Dave: There you are, right as rain! Think you can make it out of here?

Todd: The coyote spun in place and then walked to the south a few paces, before turning and looking at Dave, waiting.

Dave: Should I come with you?

Todd: The coyote waited.

Dave: OK, you don’t have to tell me twice. I’ll follow.

Todd: Satisfied, the coyote walked forward, with Dave following close behind. They walked together for a quarter of a mile before Dave began to feel dizzy.

Dave: I don’t know how much further I can go.

Todd: The coyote continued unperturbed, jumping up a red, dusty rock formation and beckoning Dave to follow. Despite the weakness in his arms and legs, Dave climbed behind him. At the top, the coyote stopped, turned, and sat. Dave collapsed at the top of the hot stone, expecting to see more of the same, cracked earth he’d been walking for hours, but to his surprise, the earth on the other side dipped down into a lush, verdant oasis.

Dave: Oh, thank God!

Todd: Dave allowed himself to roll down the side of the rock and began to crawl through the grass, the soil wet under his hands. He pulled himself up onto his knees at the spring’s edge, scooped water into his muddy hands, but before he could take a drink, the radio strapped around Dave’s body came to life, and the dial began to spin.

Dave: Really??

Animal Church - The Glory of Dog

Charles: Brothers and sisters, you have tuned into our fellowship hour with Preacher Charles Doglin. I’m Preacher Doglin, and I’d like to start our fellowship with a brief study on the glory of dog. Please open to the Book of Borks, Chapter 1, verse 15 to 23.

Charles: There, in the lands under the sun, there came a creature. And this creature had a snoot with which to sniff many things. And this creature had a tail with which to express many of their emotions. And this creature had curiosity and loyalty. And this creature had a fur coat. And this creature had good ears. And this creature walked on four legs. And this creature, after the divinity they were created from, was named “dog”. And dog took, as a companion, mankind among the wilderness of the lands of the sun.

Charles: You know, as a preacher, my job is to try to gather these verses into something that you can really take to heart and take out into the world with you, but sometimes the book, as it were, leaves me without much work I could be doing. I would, however, not be doing my job if I didn’t at least try.

Charles: Try to imagine that first dog, being made so perfect and in the image of the divine. Here we see that they already had their heightened senses of smelling and hearing. These senses must have made that dog immediately helpful to all their friends, to find things in the wilderness and to warn of threats that were approaching.

Charles: That first dog already had a tail and ears to express themself with. Here we see the tail especially was made to express emotions, but who among you hasn’t seen a dog with their ears pressed flat, looking at the ground, with a tail between their legs when they realizes they’ve done something that’s upset you? And who among you hasn’t seen the same dog, moments later, when you tell them that everything’s okay, immediately lift up their ears to the sky and furiously wag their tail as they come over to lick your face and tell you they love you, too?

Charles: It’s written here that the first dog was curious, and loyal. Well, it certainly doesn’t hurt to have a steadfast friend in the wilderness, but curiosity must have meant that they were also just like the dogs of today, taking a moment here and there to investigate the smells and sounds around them. Brothers and sisters, try to imagine that first dog, in the uncultivated wilderness, in a time before we imprisoned them with things like kennels and leashes, staying close enough to their friends to keep them safe, but running here and there as the will takes them. What a remarkable creature!

Charles: Lastly, we read that the dog had a fur coat from the beginning, which must have kept them quite warm on cold nights in the wilderness, and must have been quite nice for friends to cuddle into when giving hugs or laying together. What a fortunate, friendly creature, this first dog.

Charles: Just as the first dog was created perfect, our companions nowadays are each created perfect with a spark of the divinity that the first dog possessed. Before we move into the rest of our fellowship hour, please take a moment to hug your companions - and they don’t have to be dogs, now, brothers and sisters - we give sermons on all the glorious creatures of the world here - but brother and sisters, hug your companions and reflect on how each and every one of them was made with a spark of the divine and how blessed we are to have them in our lives.

Call-In Contest

DJ: Alright, that was The Rockin’ Rodents with “Life’s a Rat Race (But I’m Squeaking By)”. Before that you heard “I Can’t Live Without Ewe (A Ram in My Heart)”. We’re wrapping up an hour of nonstop music, but we’ve got a little call-in competition to run first. Now, remember: Like always, the first caller to call in with the right answer is going to receive tickets to see Kiss Me Kabar live. Let’s go to the question.

DJ: Name the person whose best known contribution to animal welfare was making slaughterhouses less alarming for cattle, a feat she accomplished initially by having the workers turn off all the machinery and walking through it herself. She’s quoted as saying, “My theory is that the environment animals live in should activate their positive emotions as much as possible, and not activate their negative emotions any more than necessary,” and originally wanted her autobiography to be entitled “A Cow’s Eye View,” and is a lifelong autism advocate who championed the line “Different, not less.”

DJ: Talked about how if we’d just treat animals right it’d probably be a preferable life and death to what many experience in the wild… Wrote “Animals Make Us Human”… Explained visual thinking as being analogous to a computer aided design system where she could pull apart machines in her mind and reassemble them… Looking for the name of that woman. First caller gets tickets to see Kiss Me Kabar live.

DJ: We’ll try one more time. She was once quoted as saying “Nature is cruel, but we don’t have to be.” I’m really - this isn’t even on the cards at this point, I just don’t know what else to say about her that people might recognize. Looking for the woman’s name. First caller gets tickets to Kiss Me Kabar live.

DJ: That was Temple Grandin. Temple Grandin. She has a TED talk or two. I know this is a vegan space, but I thought there was room for animal welfare on the road to veganism. I’m honestly - I can’t believe nobody even tried to guess. Is my mic on? Are we live? Are we - oh - hold on, my producer is handing me a note. It says… ha, well, that’s - I was told I was just DJing the radio, but the note says “this is a prerecorded podcast.” Thank Dog. I was starting to worry that nobody had heard of Temple Grandin.

The Eigen Ground - The Hot Seat

Todd: Dave once again found his body in peril as he returned to it. At first groggy and out of sorts, he quickly realized he was cuffed to a nondescript, wooden table with a blinding, bright light pointed directly at his face. There was a person on the other side of the table, too engulfed in shadow to fully comprehend, but he could just make out the radio sitting on the table.

Dave: What the heck? Can you turn that light off?

Interro Gator: Nope.

Dave: What? What is this?

Interro Gator: I’ll be asking the questions here. Do you have any idea what’s on the table?

Dave: It’s a radio?

Interro Gator: It’s not just any radio, now is it?

Dave: Well, it’s not like any radio I’ve ever seen, for sure. Could you let me out of these cuffs?

Interro Gator: Not in a million years. Where did you get the radio?

Dave: I’m sorry, am I in some kind of trouble?

Interro Gator: That depends entirely on your answers to my questions. Let’s try again: where did you get the radio?

Dave: It was hung around a scarecrow, in a hayfield.

Interro Gator: Right. What was it doing there?

Dave: I have no idea. I just found it there.

Interro Gator: But you knew it was valuable enough to take it?

Dave: I mean… There was a voice. Todd… Todd Sterling! Todd told me to take the radio!

Interro Gator: And this ‘Todd’ - you trusted his word on how valuable it was?

Dave: Well, no. The radio… Just before that the radio retuned itself for some reason, but Todd seemed to think it had something to do with me getting out of here.

Interro Gator: Right. I’m going to level with you, and it won’t surprise you. That radio is very unusual. Not quite one of a kind, but close enough. Now, this Todd fellow — I believe I heard him talking a moment ago, describing where we’re at right now, right? I didn’t know his name, so you’ve already been quite helpful — but we believe, based on what we’ve heard he’s done in the past, that this Todd fellow is armed to the teeth, dangerous, and overwhelmingly manipulative. Problem is, none of us can seem to find him. So you’re going to help us do that.

Dave: God, that no good weasel! When I get out of here, you’ll have to get in line behind me to get the better of him!

Interro Gator: Happily. Now, were you involved in the events of December 1950?

Dave: What? No. I wasn’t even alive then.

Interro Gator: October 1959?

Dave: No. How old do you think I am?

Interro Gator: Tell you what. I’ll just list months and dates and you tell me if any of them ring a bell. September 1963? April 1977? October 1981? August 1992?

Dave: I was alive in 1992, but I wasn’t old enough to be “involved” in anything. I have no idea what those dates have to do with each other or with me. Can I just, you know, go? Whatever’s going on, you’re clearly looking for someone at least three times my age.

Interro Gator: Alive in 1992… interesting. So then, June 2003?

Dave: No. I was a teenager but again…

Interro Gator: Shame. We think he inhabited a raven’s body that time. Probably the most interesting case of nearly catching him.

Dave: A raven? The only animal I’ve come across so far was a coyote in the desert.

Interro Gator: A coyote in the desert?

Dave: One of the places the radio took me was to a desert. I helped a coyote there, and he took me to an oasis. I… feel like maybe I was supposed to learn something from helping him?

Interro Gator: What do you mean by that? That you’re supposed to learn something?

Dave: I don’t know, Todd said people don’t get stuck here if there’s not something they’re supposed to learn.

Interro Gator: Interesting. We know that Todd tends to favor victims who’ve committed some kind of terrible sin.

Dave: What? No, I haven’t done anything wrong! I was just walking to my car!

Interro Gator: You’re looking a little sweaty under that lamp. Why don’t you tell me a little about who you are — Dave, was it?

Dave: Um, OK. Well, I’m 34 years old. I’m originally from Ohio, but I’ve been living in Pittsburgh since I graduated from college. Um… I’m a furry? I’m not sure what you wanna know.

Interro Gator: I simply want to know what you’re not telling me.

Dave: Erm… (thinking for a moment, and then, as if his answer might be relevant to the overall theme of his trials) I’m a zoo?

Interro Gator: A zoophile, huh? I see. Definitely the sort of person we’d expect to be mixed up with a character like Todd Sterling.

Dave: I’m… not sure I appreciate the implication, there.

Interro Gator: I’m sure you don’t. Well, let me ask you a question. How well do you know your zoophile friends?

Dave: Um… Pretty well, I guess? Well enough, I suppose. They’re good people.

Interro Gator: I see. And what would you do if someone told you one of your good friends was actually doing terrible things? Say, terrible things to animals?

Dave: What the hell? Why would I be friends with someone like that?

Interro Gator: You seemed unsurprised that Todd wasn’t a great guy, and yet you’re handcuffed to a table on his behalf. So let’s try that again. It’s a hypothetical question. Use your imagination.

Dave: I don’t know. I guess… I guess I’d turn them over to the police and hope for the best.

Interro Gator: You know, it’s almost funny. It’s almost like that’s exactly what you’d expect me to want to hear.

Dave: I don’t know what else you want me to say.

Interro Gator: I want you to actually think about the question and answer it honestly.

Dave: (sighs as he tries to actually imagine the scenario) OK. I guess I’d try to dig into the evidence and really figure out if it was real, and really question what it’s saying about them, and try to contextualize it with what I know — what I think I know — for sure about them, and come to some conclusion or another about some conversation I need to have. The conversation would definitely suck, because either I’m expecting to be lied to and just hoping against hope that I’m not… or I’m expecting to have to inform a friend that some terrible things are going around about them. Maybe even both. What I do from there depends largely on their response. I want to believe my friends are good people. I want to believe that the worst they could be is misguided. So hopefully I could help them be better somehow. If I can’t do that… I don’t know what I’d do. I don’t know if police would do anything, and if they did, I don’t know who else might get hurt as a result. I’m terrified to think that I’d have to make that decision, and I don’t think it’s fair for anyone to have to face.

Interro Gator: There. That’s better. And it sounds perfectly reasonable. Though, I couldn’t help but notice you didn’t mention animals in your list of considerations even once.

Dave: I mean — they’re kind of a given part of the equation, aren’t they? What do you want from me, here?

Interro Gator: Don’t worry about it. It’s a fairly normal human response to start with the human element when considering these things.

Dave: (Makes a sound like he’s not satisfied with just having a ‘normal human response’) That’s not fair. Of course I care about the animals involved. The hypothetical situation hinges on me being concerned about their wellbeing, doesn’t it? Why would I even wrack my brain over this sort of thing if I didn’t care? I just want to be able to believe in the people around me… but you’re right. Sometimes I’m worried I can’t.

Interro Gator: Interesting. Why do you think that is?

Dave: (sigh) I don’t think it’s always been like that. Things were really good for a while, actually. Several years ago, it seemed like Zooier Than Thou was finally starting to find it’s real voice, several social media sites had rich zoo communities, the DSI was just starting to form and show promise, and everything was moving in a positive direction. Things had felt bleak for a long time, but finally, I had hope.

Interro Gator: That sounds good.

Dave: Yeah, but then a bunch of things happened. It turned out this one zoo from twitter people don’t like had his hands in a lot of the events and organizations I was participating in, and a lot of people abandoned them. Some of the friends I made and people I liked turned out to not always be good people. We were going to have a political organization for zoos in the US — but it turned out to be smoke and mirrors, and the person heading that went way off the deep end and did some pretty inexcusable things. At one time, we even thought we were going to take down the largest platform for anti-zoos in existence… but somehow, they’re still around and still being awful.

Interro Gator: That sounds discouraging.

Dave: Now it feels like there’s no good anti-abuse initiatives with serious traction behind them, no good community spaces, that zoo that people don’t like who was running things is going off on these tirades about god knows what to god knows who about how we’re all awful, and I feel like most of my friends have either abandoned ship or turned out to be terrible, and I have no idea what to do. And to make matters worse, I don’t know who I can trust or what I can get involved in to try to recapture how I felt back at the beginning of these last few years. It’s like something has shifted in the foundation of the entire zoo community, and we can’t go back.

Interro Gator: That sounds hard.

Dave: It is hard. It just feels like every time I try to talk about these things, people want to sweep them under the rug or avoid the topic. It’s a nonstop stream of positivity but — like you mentioned, actually — it feels like nobody’s talking about animals or talking about the problems we’re facing. That’s how I feel, anyway.

Interro Gator: I see. So tell me, Dave: what is it you want to do about all of this?

Dave: Me? I don’t know what to do. I just want to be with the friends I still have and try to hope everything’s going to be OK in the end.

Interro Gator: That seems like a normal response. Well, I certainly hope that works out for you, Dave. And I appreciate your candidness. I’m certain we’ll have more questions for you over the next few days, and we thank you for your cooperation thus far.

Dave: What? No. I just want to go home. I want to go back to my car and my friends and the long drive home and my shitty life in my shitty apartment that doesn’t even let me have any companions and just — I wanna go home!

Todd: Dave struggled to get free, the metal of the handcuffs digging roughly into his skin as he pulled and tugged, but the table was bolted to the floor. He was trapped. Just as he was about to lose all hope of ever getting home, the dial on the radio began to spin.

Interro Gator: What? No, stop him! Grab them both! Hurry, they’re going to —

Tabby Talks - Grief and Guilt

Tabby: (reading) Thank you for giving me the opportunity to write this. Losing my partner has devastated me and there’s been no one I can talk to about who would understand. To everyone else, he was just a dog. There was no funeral; he was just forgotten about by everyone else. This at least gives something. I’ve needed this type of outlet. Even just writing it out has helped a bit. Yours, A Grieving Zoo.

Thank you for writing in. You know, so often, we grieve in silence, with no outlet, no one to commiserate and share our grief. And every time someone says something stupid like, “It’s just a dog,” we retreat further inside. You have to wonder if it’s a surprise that those words bring us no comfort.

Now, listeners, there’s nothing wrong with grieving privately. We all process grief in our own ways. But for many of us, we don’t have a choice. Or at least, we don’t believe we have the choice of opening up and sharing the burden of our sorrows with others. But there is catharsis in letting out all of those emotions that we keep bottled inside. I promise you, there are others out there who understand this pain you’re going through. Sometimes, just putting those feelings into words alone is catharsis enough. And that is precisely what we’re here for tonight. Thank you for sharing your burden with us. It is an honor to be a part of your journey toward healing, and an honor to commemorate the life of your beloved dog.

If you’re just tuning in, you’re listening to Tabby Talks. I’m your eponymous host, and tonight, we’ve been focusing on letters dealing with grief. And as we’ve seen, grief takes many forms.

Our next letter is from Confused CatRat, who writes in about a passing love. CatRat writes:

“Hi there, I don’t know how to start this email off, but I need your opinion.

I had this tiny she-dog, and we were together for 19 years when all of the sudden she started to get ill, and she was put down. The thing I’m writing in about is what happened when she was put down. You see, I’m not good with death. When I had my first dog put down when I was 10 I held onto him and what I felt as he faded scarred me. So when she was put down… I couldn’t hold her. I talked to her as a friend she liked held her for me, but I don’t know if that was enough. I feel like I didn’t do enough for her, that I failed her. Yeah she was old and it was inevitable she would pass, but instead of giving her physical attention as she passed I stood aside.

Did I fail my small partner?”

(pause, and a thoughtful breath) You know, as living beings, we place a lot of emphasis on the circumstances of our deaths. I wager many of us already know how we want to die, whether in a blaze of heroic glory, or quietly, peacefully, surrounded by the people we love in a place where we feel at home. This moment holds a lot of significance, and when it comes time to say goodbye to our loved ones, we want that moment to be as comfortable as possible. But once the moment has passed, our loved ones can no longer reassure us that we got it right.

I have known the sorrow of holding an animal in my arms as they passed, and it is a striking horror to know the moment that life leaves their body. I don’t know if there is anyone out there who could rightly chastise you for being traumatized by such an experience at a young age.

But let me be the first to point out that you were there. You were there as she grew old. You were there when she got sick. You were there when she passed away. And that means something.

Too often, animals are abandoned when they become old and burdensome, left to die alone, or in the company of strangers, because their families can’t handle the weight and stress of caring for a late-life companion. But you were there.

So let me release you from this burden of guilt. There are so many worse ways to die than to be held by a dear friend and lulled to sleep by the voice of someone you love.

And to those of you out there listening, comparing your companion’s last moments with CatRat’s small partner, do not fall into the trap of feeling inadequate by comparison — or superior, for that matter. Death is a difficult thing to deal with for the living. It is alien and unfathomable and frightening. But Death is a single moment, punctuating the end of an entire lifetime. A life well-lived means a lot. Focus on giving that to your companions, because that’s far more significant.

Thanks for writing in, CatRat.

Our next letter comes from Muffin, who is also dealing with grief. Muffin writes:

“Hello Tabby! I’ve been listening to your show for quite some time now, but unfortunately, I’m writing in on a somber note. You see, last year, I had fallen deeply in love with my brother’s family’s dog. I’d drive an hour to visit him nearly every day, and we quickly grew very close. We would spend hours together outside or hanging out in the shed to escape the summer heat, and we shared many beautiful experiences together, both intimate and not. But, not all good things last forever.. A few hours after I visited him last, he got off his leash and was sadly hit by oncoming traffic and passed away. I was absolutely heartbroken, and I feel that I still am. He was my first non-human love, and he meant the world to me. I also feel a big sense of guilt, because my brother had offered to let me take him home to live with me, but my landlord is very against pets, so I knew I couldn’t have him stay with me, as much as I wanted him to. I feel that maybe, just maybe, if I had taken him home with me that day or stayed a little longer, that he would still be alive and happy today. It’s been close to a year since his passing, and while I’m doing my best to move on, any time I see a dog who looked similar to him, or am reminded of him, I can feel the guilt and sadness wash over me. My question is, what is the best way to cope with grief and move on? How can I get over this irrational guilt? I am looking forward to your response, and I wish you all the best. Thank you ♡”

(pause, and a thoughtful breath) You know, it’s interesting how in times of grief we always seem to find ways to blame ourselves, whether it’s by worrying that some inconsequential incident or choice set in motion the death of a loved one, or by fretting that we could have done something more. If only we had done something more. I have to wonder, why do we punish ourselves this way? Why do grief and guilt so often go hand in hand?

When I was young, I wanted to be a cartoonist, and I used to dream about turning my day-to-day life into an epic anime adventure. I had a boyfriend at the time, and I was probably too young to really appreciate what that kind of relationship was supposed to be. I remember daydreaming that if we ever broke up, I’d kill him off in my epic anime life, and it would be this very dramatic, character-defining moment that propelled the story forward.

One day, I was feeling irritable, for no discernible reason, and my boyfriend called me on the phone to talk. I told him, “I’m too angry to talk right now,” and I hung up the phone and sat in my room, brooding.

That was the last thing I ever said to him. He died in a car crash an hour later.

And I remember thinking, maybe if I’d just talked with him on the phone instead of being self-absorbed in my own anger, he would have left the house a moment later, and he wouldn’t have been in that crash.

But maybe even more irrationally, I felt like I’d willed his death into being by canonizing it in my fake, epic life. It was my fault, because I made it happen with my mind. This specific guilt was so strong that to this day, any time I think about something bad happening to someone, I spend a great deal of time clarifying to the universe that I don’t actually want it to happen.

But that’s crazy, right? Most of us don’t believe in a solipsistic world that we will into being with our minds. I don’t even believe that. But this is a ritual that persists to this day because of that car crash that happened when I was 12 years old.

All of this to say that irrational guilt and grief go hand in hand, and it doesn’t matter how irrational it is — it is incredibly real to us, and no amount of logic wills that away. Perhaps even more tragically, the irrational guilt that follows a dog being hit by a car is almost a universal truth. So universal that I guarantee your brother is thinking, “If I’d only held that leash a little tighter, he would still be here.”

Every dog lover listening right now feels a pang in their heart, because they know they’d blame themselves, no matter what the circumstances were, and that nothing would convince them otherwise.

The only way I can think of to overcome these feelings and cope with this grief is to forgive yourself. Actively, physically, through some manner of ritual or reason, absolve yourself of the sin you feel you committed. That means first acknowledging that the guilt you feel is real to you, and perhaps, knowing in your heart that your beloved canine would never, ever have blamed you for what happened to him.

Perhaps, even, you should reach out across the veil and apologize to him, if only to give voice to your private grief and work through all the things you wish you could have said. And just maybe, you’ll feel a paw on your shoulder letting you know that everything is OK, and you are truly forgiven.

Thank you for writing in Muffin. This is Tabby Talks, signing off.

The Eigen Ground - Into the Nexus

Dave: That was… rough to hear.

Todd: Yes, Dave. Such stories often are.

Dave: Todd, I can hear you, but I can’t feel my body.

Todd: Don’t be afraid, Dave. You’ve slipped outwards to the edge of reality, where the line between life and death is only a suggestion at most.

Dave: Am I dying?

Todd: No, Dave. All you need to do clear your mind and focus. Tell me, what do you hear?

Dave: I’m… not sure. Crickets? Frogs? I think other insects, maybe some birds.

Todd: Good, Dave. What do you smell?

Dave: A breeze through the wilderness. Hickory smoke from a campfire. Pine needles. Damp held at bay by the fire.

Todd: Very good. Now, Dave, what do you feel?

Dave: There are countless people around me but nobody here all at once. I feel grief, love, longing, joy, anger - I feel… I can feel the breeze go past me and the bench I’m sitting on, but mostly I feel all these emotions, and this sense of reassurance that everything is as it should be. I feel countless souls brushing against mine. I don’t think all of them are human.

Todd: Good, Dave. Now, finally, open your eyes and tell me what you see.

Dave: Countless benches around a campfire. I can’t make out the people sitting on them, but I can feel them next to me. There’s one standing, about to approach the fire, but I can’t make out his face or his features. But - I would recognize that voice anywhere.

Todd: As the stranger speaks, the woods go silent in respect for what he has come here to say. The ritual begins.

Samhain Ritual

Toggle: Tonight, we gather in this sacred place where the veil is thin, to call to those we love on the other side. Those who share our history. Those who share our souls. Those who share our hearts. We call to you who have passed beyond, who linger In the darkness just out of reach. Come and return to us. Hear our stories as we remember you. For in remembering, we let you live again.

At the end of each tale, collectively we say, “We Will Remember,” because these are the stories of our community and of the people we dared to love, and who dared to love us back. These experiences define us and bring us together, and so we carry them together, year after year.

Who would like to go first?

Zoo 1: I remember when we first met. Both of us were so young. You escaped the crate you were in at the shelter and ended up running to me. I was at the store with my parents and had just as little control over my being there as you did. It almost felt like more than a coincidence that we found one another.

I remember how you saved me growing up as a zoo. When you kissed me all the anxiety, and the stress, and the guilt, and the fear would just melt away and only we would be left behind. You allowed me to live and be myself.

I remember how you’d wag your tail at me when I’d see you. It always made me happy how even when you were almost asleep, I’d see your tail give just a little bit of movement as I went by. I still look to the spots where you’d lay and hope to see your tail moving again.

I love you Indi.

Toggle: We will remember.

All: We will remember.

Zoo 2: So has ended the patter of your paws against the floor, the demanding meow in the early hours of the morning, the calming purr.

You came to us way into the latter half of your life, but still you quickly took your place in our lives and hearts. You loved routine, you taught us the importance of taking the time to stop and appreciating the moment, you loved anyone who gave you the attention you asked for.

Thank you for coming to our lives. We’ll miss you, Hilla.

Toggle: We will remember.

All: We will remember.

Zoo 3: I’d like to dedicate this eulogy to my black cat Bonjo, I’ll never forget the day rescued you from my job, hearing your cries for help I did my best to bring you back to full health and I did, in return you gave me your unconditional love and affection, you were there for some of my most recent dark times, through my struggles to get by in this life and were there to comfort me through everything else, the best part of my day was coming home from work to you eagerly waiting for me, meowing happily with that goofy meow that I grew accustomed too. I’ll never forget the last day I saw you, I never thought that it would be the last day. I should have known better then to take you outside and when you jumped from my arms and ran away into the near by woods. I searched day and night for weeks hoping to see those big green eyes once more but I never did, with time came healing and acceptance I’ve come to appreciate the time that I did have you in my life, to hear that meow, to feel your soft fur next to my face when we would lay down in bed for the night and to wake up to the loud purring that you made, I still have hope in my heart that one day we will meet again, and if we don’t that maybe fate will pull us together in the next life, I love you so much my sweet baby Bonjo.

Toggle: We will remember.

All: We will remember.

Zoo 4: You were my best friend as a kid and I was lucky enough to be your friend for you’re entire life. You were loved more than you can know and you’ll be missed for far longer than you lived. Miss you Angel.

Toggle: We will remember.

All: We will remember.

Zoo 5: I’ve only had a single zoo relationship in my moderate time on this earth. It was one of the most joyous relationships in my life and I can say I truly felt loved. She was with me from age 3 when my parents first got her until she sadly went missing when I was in my adolescence. I wish I could share her name but it’s wise to keep myself and her memory safe.

She was a tabby and tortoise shell coloration, with a large white patch on her chest and pink nose almost with a black border. Her face was nearly split in half, orange on one side and tabby on the other. She had foresty green and brown eyes and always had a near perfectly healthy build.

Our relationship was never sexual but it was undoubtedly filled with love. One of my greatest regrets is that I didn’t realize I was in the good times with her when they were happening. I luckily don’t have any regrets in showing her that I loved her.

She was a joy to be around. She was kind to all of the family and respectful to any of the many visitors we had, but she adored me. I’m glad I can say that with confidence.

When I first got her, I’m told I fell asleep repeating her name over and over because I was so obsessed with her. My parents did much of taking care of her because I was simply too young to know what I was doing until later when I started taking care of all our pets. Of all of them, she was truly “my” cat.

I remember distinctly that she was so good at slinking around and getting into places she likely shouldn’t have been that at one point I believed she was a witch. I may have watched too much Sabrina the Teenage Witch during my youth. She’d often curl up next to me on the couch and sleep so peacefully in a beautiful little coil.

I can remember very often well into my adolescence that I would lay down on my back in bed and know she’d be there soon. She’d come into the room and hop right up onto the bed, step squarely in my soft stomach, and position herself right on top of my sternum. She’d lay down facing me directly and I’d better start petting immediately or there would be trouble. The trouble was love bites on my chin. I’d oblige of course and pet her from head to tail, scratch behind her ears, scratch under her chin and give her all the love she deserved. In exchange she would aggressively make muffins in the flesh of my chest and constantly drool. I’d have residual scratches that made it through my shirt and my shirt would be soaked in saliva, almost to a ridiculous degree. And I adored it.

When I look back on my time with her, along with the knowledge I have now, I see it as a zoophilic relationship. I didn’t even know there was such a thing when I was younger and thus didn’t have the context but I’m certain I loved her. I’ll love her always.

Toggle: We will remember.

All: We will remember.

Zoo 6: My life, my leather, my love goes to Bosco. It’s been just about 2 years since you’ve been gone and not a day goes by that I don’t still miss you. I miss caressing your fur, I miss going in walks with you in every beautiful place, I miss being able to look at you and knowing that no matter how hard things got, that everything was going to be okay because you and I had already been through so much together. There’s so much I didn’t think I’d survive these past 2 years but looking at the girls and seeing the parts of you that live on in them kept me going - you raised them so well. After nearly 2 years, I’m just now starting to see that there is still beauty in the world, even if you’re not in it with me. I’m starting to smile when I visit you in the memories we made instead of crying. I love you. I always will.

Toggle: We will remember.

All: We will remember.

Zoo 7: You were the light of my life I never thought I’d meet in my life. I never thought I needed that light in my life. Walking with that light, I didn’t realize how much I had grown accustomed to that light. When that light went out, I can’t understand why I lost you. Now I walk with a new light, it’s different. Although it doesn’t replace you, but your teachings walk with me with the new light.

You were my biggest love, miss ya buddy!

Toggle: We will remember.

All: We will remember.

Zoo 8: My special boy. You were my first. My one and only. My puppy boy. You taught me how to love, as we rescued one another from loneliness. The most important decision I ever made was bringing you into my world. Raising you and building a life with you is the best thing I have ever done. We went on so many adventures and made so many friends, friends who will never forget you. You taught my family how to love dogs, then became my family too. You were my friend, my companion, my travel buddy, my lover. We set the world on fire - you, and I, and our beloved girl, gone too soon. I know you’re with her now, dancing and prancing, I’ll bet she’s still teasing you too. I’m still down here picking up the pieces, but of a life well lived. You grew old, disgracefully, and enjoyed many pain free years as you turned grey. I am so lost without you, my heart is so broken, but I must remember the good times. Please wait for me, at the end. I will never forget you. I love you.

Toggle: We will remember.

All: We will remember.

Zoo 9: I would like to take a moment to acknowledge and give love to a massive, unloved group: the victims of the industrial farming industry.

To the male chicks and calfs who never got a chance because only females are profitable, to the laying hens who couldn’t survive the conditions, to the milking cows who are forced into successive pregnancies and have their babies torn away, to all the animals who had short, miserable live in the name of cost and convenience: I’m so sorry for how our world treated you.

To our friends in the ocean who were written off as by-catch, whose precious lives were ended because of their proximity to the ones we eat. To pigs, goats, deer, bison, and countless other animals of all shapes and sizes who were treated without the most basic respect, who’s lives were simply not valued because of our species’ desire for different flavors: I’m sorry for what was done to you.

This is merely scratching the surface of the millions upon millions of lives that we destroy, both directly and indirectly. I know that this small bit of love I send pales in comparison to what was taken from you, but I send it nonetheless. I’m so deeply sorry for the suffering you endured. I love you.

Toggle: We will remember.

All: We will remember.

Toggle: Doug, I struggled to think about what I wanted to say this year, but I think the truth is, there’s nothing I haven’t already said before. But, I want you to know I still think about you all the time. Thank you for everything. We will remember.

All: We will remember.

Zoo 10: My dear Lindy, when I first met you you had already been living with my new family for some years. Even from day one I felt it was incredibly unfair that they kept you outside well away from the home, your plastic dog house was contained within a small fenced area made only to hold you, while the rest of the yard was the biggest I had ever lived on. I thought maybe they kept you that way because you were hyperactive, or possibly aggressive, but even just a few moments of interacting with you made it clear you were probably the friendliest dog I had ever met. I tried to remedy your loneliness by visiting you to play, but unfortunately I found that going outside meant our family would force me to work the yard rather than let me play so our visits were infrequent and short.

One day we all moved to a new home. They still wouldn’t let you be inside no matter what the weather was like, but now you were right out by the back door so visiting you became much easier. Our friendship took off in earnest and I soon found myself caring deeply about you, the deepest I had ever cared for anyone at the time. Our family almost always dismissed any ideas I had for how to make your life more comfortable. They believed that you, and all animals, are emotionless machines made of meat and saw no benefit to bettering your life, but I knew better.

I knew you were a vibrant being with so much joy and love to give, and I wanted to give you the world in turn. Our family reacted strangely when they noticed I wanted to spend so much time with you, so I started approaching things differently. This is why I would secretly rip the straw bedding out of your dog house when I felt that it was damp, so I could force my parents to buy you fresh straw bedding, and why I would sneak scraps of my dinner out to you to give some flavor to the frankly bland kibble they insisted was “good enough”. One winter morning I realized your water bowl was frozen over, and it dawned on me that I could do more for you. I started visiting you on cold nights after everyone was asleep. I would break the ice in your water bowl so that you could drink, and I would run around quietly in the yard with you to help you stay warm from activity. On the coldest nights when you were too cold to even run around I would bring a blanket and share your plastic dog house so that I could cuddle you to keep you from freezing.

I can’t believe it has already been 16 years since I last saw your smile. I was powerless to save you from your poisoned death, powerless to ease those three days of agony you endured. I was not even allowed to be there for you when you were finally taken to the vet where they ended your suffering. I am sorry we did not get to say “goodbye” and that I could never express to you what you truly meant to me. I know that I was unable to significantly change your life for the better, but I do hope what little I could do for you in the years I knew you was enough for you to feel loved.

Although I write this now to finally tell you goodbye, I promise to always treat my companions the way I wished I could have treated you, I promise to always carry your memory and your joy for life with me unto my oldest days, and I will always cherish those nights we spent together.

Goodbye, Lindy, my beloved.

Toggle: We will remember.

All: We will remember.

Zoo 11: When I first met Simba, it was as as if my life instantly became better and a little more beautiful. Over the years, Simba showed me what it’s like to love unconditionally, what it’s like to be happy. In every wag of his tail and every day we spent I was falling deeper In love with him. I miss him dearly, and to Simba, I’m sorry for not being there when you passed. I wish I could’ve had the chance to say goodbye, to hold you and say I love you one last time. It’s my deepest regret. You’ll forever be in my heart and I’ll never forget you. Even after a year, you still mean the world to me. I love you.

Toggle: We will remember.

All: We will remember.

Toggle: Let’s take a moment to honor all the zoos who have left this world early by suicide. We hope that, year by year, this number gets smaller and smaller, as the world becomes a little less lonely for zoos, and a little more friendly toward the animals we love. We remember you, and we strive toward a future where the pain, the sorrow, and the hopelessness they felt is a distant memory for our community. As we strive toward that future, their struggles are near to our hearts.

We will remember.

All: We will remember.

Toggle: Take a moment to remember and honor your loved ones on the other side of the veil. Remember all the wonderful memories you shared with them. Remember the brightness they brought into your life. Tell them the things you always wished you could let them know. Say their names out loud. This is your time.

(long moment of quiet)

Toggle:We will remember.

All: We will remember.

Tabby: Mourning is not about feeling horrible over the loss of something precious, but mourning is about the affirmation of a creature’s dignity. Mourning makes them a person on your family tree, not just a fungible fluff-ball that can be replaced by another. Mourning makes it a fact that that creature’s life was something that mattered in the world. If death is the ultimate mortification of a creature, then mourning banishes that mortification, and mourning tells the world that taking that creature’s life away does not make that creature less worthy of our respect. Mourning is a message to the world that the world does not have the power to take away the meaning of that creature’s life and what that creature stood for. And for that reason, we say, “We will remember.”

All: We will remember.

Toggle: Our stories are told and our loved ones are here with us. Their lives became inexorably intertwined with ours, and ours were made all the richer for it. Through us, they live forever. And at this time we can feel them closer than ever. Ancestors! Lovers! Friends! Stay with us and guide us with your love and wisdom always. We will remember!

All: We will remember!

Kynophile: Return to the earth, to the meadows, where I loved you

Becoming a part of the ever, of the river

Remember my name, and be joyful, no more sorrow

I’ll see you again, when it’s time…

Until then…

The Eigen Ground - Returning Home

Dave: They seem to really care about the companions they’ve lost.

Todd: Yes, Dave.

Dave: I mean, I had heard the ritual, you know, in audio before, but to actually see it… [brief pause] Is it always here?

Todd: If you mean the one from the podcast, then I’m uncertain, Dave. If you mean the ritual itself, I suppose it’s held everywhere people’s hearts hold another across the gap created by the existence and breaking of mortal coils.

Dave: There was a reason for me to be here, at this point, at this exact time, wasn’t there?

Todd: Everything here happens for a reason, Dave.

Dave: Couldn’t I have just listened to the ritual on the podcast?

Todd: Perhaps. But if that’s all you needed, I don’t think you would be here, Dave.

Dave: So then what was I meant to learn here?

Todd: What did you observe?

Dave: Fellow zoos in mourning, talking about lost companions.

Todd: Talking about..?

Dave: Companions… Animals. They were talking about animals.

Todd: Did they seem lost?

Dave: No, not really, at least not in the same sense. Sad in many ways, sure, and missing their companions, but not lost like I’ve been feeling.

Todd: So then, what’s your answer?

Dave: I think it’s animals. If there’s one thing that I’m certain of, it’s that I love animals, and if I steer my heart in that direction, I’ll find my way back to shore.

Todd: I think that’s a good answer. Think about animals and what you can do for them.

Dave: What I can do for them… you know, I don’t actually know. What am I supposed to do for them? I don’t have a companion of my own to care for. And there’s just… so much wrong out there, it feels like nothing I could ever possibly do could make a dent in it. It really goes way beyond the zoo community. Thinking about it makes me feel… insignificant.

Todd: (a pause) I have something of a confession, Dave. I’m not certain what I do actually helps animals either.

Dave: Wait, really?

Todd: Indeed. I don’t get to see any direct impact of my actions, and I worry that any indirect impact is minimal at best. I worry that even when people understand what I’ve come to show them, they nod sagely and then promptly forget it as though the lesson wasn’t meant for them to begin with.

Dave: So then what do I do? What would you do if you were me?

Todd: I’m not certain, Dave. Almost any path I’d recommend is obscured by hard work and oftentimes a bit of luck along the way. Nothing is certain. And it’s hard to know when there’s no instruction manual or guideposts for this sort of journey. The only thing I am certain of is that it starts with loving animals and trying to focus on that. And then, doing something.

Dave: You know, I almost hated you, when I was being interrogated.

Todd: Oh? What changed your mind?

Dave: I could feel you, for a few minutes there, before the ritual. For just a brief moment, our souls touched, and I knew everything about who you were in that instant. [brief pause] You aren’t capable of malice, are you Todd?

Todd: Not in the traditional sense, no. My place is usually to observe and narrate. I imagine this will be the last conversation I have for another 20 to 30 years all over again.

Dave: I didn’t think so. [pause] Your place… What does that make my place?

Todd: Being the best zoo you can be.

Dave: Hmm… you know, I feel like I’m not the only person who was supposed to learn something, here.

Todd: Interesting. What do you think I should have learned from all this?

Dave: Maybe… that there’s other ways to teach people than cruelly ironic twists?

Todd: Perhaps, Dave. We’ll see what kind of person falls into the Eigen Ground next time before I overcommit.

Dave: I suppose that’s reasonable enough. [brief pause] What now?

Todd: I told you how this story ends, right from the beginning.

Dave: Well that’s me. How does it end for you?

Todd: As Todd started to answer, the radio dial again started spinning.

Dave: Wait, don’t —

Todd: You know, so far, you’re the only one I’ve genuinely liked and respected, Trebs.

SOUND: (SFX: dial spinning): Dave has finished his time in the Eigen Ground.

Dave: Wow, Todd. I really did get put next to my car. You know, for a second there I thought that you- [brief pause] Oh. The radio’s gone.

Zoo 3: 700… 800… 900… It should be this row, guys.

Dave: Oh, hey! Over here!

Zoo 3: Hey Trebs! You’ll never guess what self-elected leader nearly got lost again.

Zoo 1: It’s not my fault we spent so long in the bathroom we nearly forgot the bay number.

Zoo 2: YOU forgot. We kept trying to tell you.

Zoo 1: Well, we’re here now - and we even arrived before Trebs had the car ready!

Dave: Yeah, I was… Well, you probably wouldn’t believe me. I just took a bit of a long way here.

Zoo 2: Don’t tell me you BOTH got lost.

Dave: No, not exactly… Say, have you guys ever thought about animals?

Zoo 3: All the time. Why wouldn’t we?

Dave: No, I meant to say — well, have you thought about how we’re making their lives better?

Zoo 1: With… vegan fast food?

Dave: Oh, geez, thanks for reminding me! I’d nearly forgotten you asked to grab a burger! — But no, I mean… Look, I don’t want to get too pushy or preachy or anything, but I’ve been thinking, I really just want to… help animals. Maybe as a group. I just don’t know where to start.

Zoo 2: Well, I have serially adopted late-life shelter cats so they can live in a forever home one more time before it’s too late for them.

Zoo 3: Wait, really?

Zoo 2: Yes! Did you never wonder why the photos of my cat were completely different every few years?

Dave: I just thought you had a ton of cats.

Zoo 2: Well, what about the three of you?

Zoo 1: I got nothing.

Dave: I’m actually trying to think of what I could maybe do with three friends scattered across the world with a bit of effort.

Zoo 3: Well, I’ve been working on something, but it gets pretty dark when you dive into it.

Zoo 2: Wait, what?

Zoo 3: It’s just, I feel like it’s something I can handle, so I decided to do it.

Dave: Well, what have you been doing?

Zoo 3: I’ve been helping some US animal welfare organizations investigate illegal cockfighting rings.

Zoo 1: Wait, how many cockfighting rings are there in the US? That’s not even a thing in Germany.

Zoo 3: You’d be surprised how common it is, and how hard it is to get local authorities to do anything about it. It gets my blood boiling if I dwell on it for too long. Trust me, you don’t want to see what happens to those poor birds after those fights.

Dave: Probably not. I know I can’t even handle looking at ASPCA commercials, so I’m probably out for that kind of work.

Zoo 2: Why’d you ask anyway, Trebs?

Dave: I just feel like if I had just a small handful of people to keep me company along the way, maybe I could stop worrying so much and just figure out what I want to do for animals. So I was hoping maybe one of you would have a great idea. But I’ll think of something.

Zoo 1: Well, when you figure it out, let me know. I can’t have pets where I live and I’m not up to rage-inducing work, so maybe what you come up will be something I can help with.

Dave: Yeah. Yeah, I’ll do that… Thanks, guys.

Zoo 2: For what?

Dave: I just needed to be reminded that I really am surrounded by good people.

Zoo 1: Aww, Trebs said we’re good people!

Zoo 3: We should turn on some music before Trebs gets too sentimental over here.

Dave: Oh, yeah! Go ahead!

Todd: We are defined by the animals in our lives. We fall in love with them. We watch them grow old. We say goodbye, always too soon. These experiences tie the zoo community together. Even among those who’ve never had an animal companion of their own, they feel the weight of that joy and sorrow vicariously through others and help shoulder the burden of that weight.

This simple truth — that animals are what give our lives meaning — can be surprisingly easy to lose sight of as the inevitable follies of human nature create rough terrain to traverse — rivers to ford; endless deserts to cross; difficult questions with uncertain answers — on what should otherwise be a clear, straight-forward path.

Trebs had been wandering through the darkness, searching desperately for a spark he’d lost along the way. Fortunately for him, he remembered that simple truth — that as long as our hearts and minds are focused on what’s truly important, we’ll always find our way back home, even when we find ourselves lost… in the Eigen Ground.

Outro

Brass: Thanks, friends, for listening to Zooier Than Thou.

Toggle: Our next episode is on November 15th, and we’ll be talking about animals in service!

Brass: It’s bound to be heroic, so don’t miss it!

Toggle: You can subscribe to the podcast via our zooey RSS feed: just point your favorite podcast client at rss.zoo.wtf. You can also check out our extensive bonus content at bonus.zoo.wtf! If you want to show your support financially, head on over to donate.zoo.wtf. Find us on Bluesky at… you guessed it, @zoo.wtf.

Brass: Our podcast’s website hasn’t changed, and you can find a form there that enables anonymous submissions to the podcast! You can also simply email us at [email protected].

Toggle: Share this podcast with someone who has loved and lost who could use a little catharsis.

Brass: I’m Brass. Sorry fellas, I’m a robot.

Toggle: And I’m Toggle. Sorry ladies, I’m a rat! And you’ve almost finished listening to Zooier Than Thou! Stay Defiant, fellow zoos! We’ll see you next time you feel like howling at the moon!

Both: Awoo!

Bonus - On Intimacy and Being a Good Person

Canis Gnosis: I, I think oddly enough, uh, this might seem a little off topic, just a tangent for a second. I think a lot of heterosexual men on the political left have been having issue with this for a little while of not knowing how to help have a healthy expression of their sexuality. Cause I’ve seen this with a lot of my like, you know, heterosexual, non-furry, non-zoo friends who, they know what not to do. Because, you know, modern leftist culture has taught them what not to do, but not what to do. And I feel like —

Toggle: You know, ContraPoints had an interesting thing about that.

Canis Gnosis: Love ContraPoints. Just—

Toggle: Yeah, I love ContraPoints too.

Canis Gnosis: But yeah, I feel like, zoos, you know, male, female, hetero, bi, gay, doesn’t matter, have the same issue of, We know what not to do, technically, even if we’re someone that’s dealing with like self hatred or self loathing or like just coming to terms with ourselves.

We know what not to do. We just don’t know what to do.

Fausty: But that’s kind of a healthy thing, right? I don’t think there’s ever a point in life where we outgrow the benefit to be had in thinking actively and consciously about our intimacy and ensuring that our intimacy reflects the best of who we are and doesn’t, inadvertently or otherwise, in any way, cause harm to those we love.

That’s a, that’s a good dialogue to have with ourselves, I think. Right?

Canis Gnosis: Absolutely. Absolutely.

Fausty: Always. Always.

Anziris: And one thing that I can’t stress enough is while people try to figure out their own sexuality and if it’s whatever questions they might have for themselves about it and they’re coming to terms with it is to not feel guilty or ashamed about it because if you do, it just puts you in this terrible cycle of, I want this thing. Oh God, why did I do this thing? I want this thing. Why did I do this thing? And it’s a terrible fucking cycle to be stuck in because speaking from personal experience, you just have to approach it with an open mind and again, try to, just don’t feel shameful about it.

Fausty: If we want to be a good person, then I think the way to get there is to make good choices about actions that are good, and to be a good person.

So that is always an open-ended road, and there’s no textbook for how to do that. I think that that is an activity that happens in an emergent way, and as we seek to do good and be good, that is how we become a good person and maintain ourselves as good people over time, whether we’re zoos or not.