We walked over to the fairgrounds to watch the traveling circus put up the tent. I had a vision of a happy band of traveling gypsies* coaching a large elephant to heave the heavy tent pole.
Um, no. It was a bunch of guys in hard hats with walkie talkies. Disillusioning for me, but probably better for the elephant. And here’s where I made mistake number two today, I Googled my local traveling circus. If you’re planning on going to your local circus, don’t do that. Just don’t. You don’t want to know. It’s not very often that I advertise ignorance as bliss. I am usually all about honesty and truth and being set free and all that, but . . .
But it’s summer and I have a four-year-old and there’s a circus — literally — in my backyard. I do not need to know what kind of horrid thing a sicko trainer did to an elephant 10+ years ago. I just need to go to the circus.
I know. I know, but we have to pick our battles. Our world is full of bad, nasty people doing bad, nasty things. But there are also good people just trying to make their living by swinging on the trapeze. And there are four-year-old who need to have a wide variety of experiences.
I love elephants, and you know I am a friend to animals. Why think of my devotion to our beloved dog Fritz T. (Now, hush, faithful readers! The new people can hear you laughing.) I will keep my eyes open and give you an honest report of how it went.
* I mean no insult to the Romani. I use this word to mean “people who travel.”