Humans presume to rank other members of the animal kingdom. Some have earned bad P.R., like cockroaches, leeches and the dreaded candiru. Few mourn their extermination. Others, such as kitties and puppies, we cuddle and spend billions on every year keeping alive (except when gassing them at the pound). Still other species are too exotically ambiguous to deserve unmixed revulsion or love. Consider the capybara. Take a look at those choppers and note the resemblance to Ford Madox Ford.
Capybaras are
the world’s largest rodent, native to South America. Gail White welcomes their
arrival in “The Good News,” the “Poem of the Week” at Light, the journal of light verse. She includes an epigraph, “Capybara Quartet Born at Schönbrunn Zoo,” taken from the website Zooborns, which
specializes in the fuzzy and cute:
“When I woke
up this morning,
the world
was still at war
and gas was
more expensive
than it was
the day before.
The
headlines were disasters
except for
the debut
of the baby
capybaras
at the
Schönbrunn zoo.
“Hurricanes
are forming
and famine
is in sight.
The news I
went to sleep on
has worsened
overnight.
The clouds
are dark above me
but skies
are bright and blue
on the baby
capybaras
at the
Schönbrunn zoo.”
I sympathize
with White’s reasoning. She merely restates Gibbon’s observation that
history is “little more than the register of the crimes, follies, and
misfortunes of mankind.” I’ve never knocked a newspaper for reporting bad news.
That’s its job. But who can resist these Austrian cousins of the
guinea pig? Baby capybaras are undeniably fuzzy and cuddly, with the solemn
expressions we cherish on the faces of most baby mammals, even humans. Sure beats Russian
atrocities in Ukraine and famine in Ethiopia.
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