flying through clouds of uncertainty on wings of existential dread
Which, okay, I EAT MEAT TOO, but I didn’t for a lot of years and raw meat still squicks me out pretty good, which is why precut chicken breast strips and the crockpot are my buddies. So I’m watching ‘The Eagle Huntress’ multiple times, and every time Aisholpan pets her fluffy, fluffy eaglet I’m all, “Do want!” and then she feeds it raw meat on a stick to remind me that pets come with responsibilities. Also, I am in no way hardcore enough to ride for a full day across the tundra holding up a 15-pound eagle on one arm, so this thirteen year old bundle of cute has me beaten on many levels.
In fact, I’ve only gotten to ride horses for one summer at Girl Scout camp, and I was TERRIBLE because I had read a few too many sad mistreated horse books and wasn’t willing to kick poor Black Beauty to make him go. I must have gotten my act together a little, because I did eventually go on a few trail rides, and my horse was always the one who stopped to poop while I was on its back, as embarrassed as only a tween girl can be, and everyone waited behind me.
I would be a poor eagle hunter, is what I’m saying here.
Yeah, I was pretty much put off having a giant bird as a pet after reading “My Side Of the Mountain” and seeing what the kid in that book (which I totally forget right now) had to go through for his pet hawk (or was it a falcon? I forget). Because eew.