He doesn't know it yet, but Zen Sunshine is going to the big city.
As I write in Where the Blind Horse Sings, we don't believe in carting around animals for show, and are therefore opposed to roadside petting zoos and other businesses that use animals for profit. When people want to connect with farm animals and understand the lessons they teach, they must generally come to Catskill Animal Sanctuary.
The ebullient rooster Paulie, a former cockfighter from Brooklyn, was an exception to the "no travel" rule. As social an animal as I ever met, Paulie sought out human companionship. Beyond that, however, Paulie loved--indeed DEMANDED--car rides! He'd screech and crow and hop up and down outside my car door until I picked him up and placed him in the passenger seat, where it took him no more than five minutes to fall asleep. Paulie visited restaurants, schools, Chambers of Commerce, radio stations....even Jivamukti Yoga Studio in Union Square. Five full chapters of Blind Horse describe this remarkable animal, his transformation, and the lifelong lessons he shared with those who knew him.
and now it's Zen's turn.
Like most young goats, Zen can't get enough of human contact. Found in the streets of Manhattan (where many of our animals, having escaped from a slaughterhouse-bound truck, or out a slaughterhouse door, or been found in boxes left in city streets, or in mailboxes or cemeteries or dumpsters) Zen has taken beautifully, of course, to farm life. (Like other goats, Zen has an optimistic world view, assuming that humans are all sources of love, food, or fun. Around CAS, of course, his view is an accurate one.)
So when I pulled into the parking lot last week and Zen came bounding into my lap as soon as I opened the car door....well, then, it wasn't too difficult to see that we had another traveller on our hands. I've taken him out for a few test runs...he quickly relaxes in his large airy carrier.
On Wednesday night, then, Zen will take his first big trip. We're going to Manhattan--to Rapture, a gay cafe and book shop, no less, (200 Avenue A between 13th and 14th; 8:30 pm) where he's sure to get into plenty of mischief. It will be a far cry from his previous experience of wandering the mean city streets. He'll be lavished with affection, which is nearly all he wants from us humans anyway, having been separated from his mother as a tiny thing. And we'll decide whether we truly have in Zen another traveling ambassador: another one who can look humans in the eyes and say, "See--I'm really not so very different from you, after all..."
(and oh, yeah, I'll be reading from my book, which will be available for purchase)