DISCONNECTED, DIFFERENT PERSPECTIVES
“Ewww! Gross!”
I turned to find out what was so gross and saw my wife, wearing her custom-made fur coat and standing with a girl, maybe 15 or 16. I didn’t see anything gross, but apparently the teenager did. Jill was extending her bobcat-clad left arm, and the girl was recoiling from it as if it was a rattlesnake. She quickly scurried away, and when she’d achieved what she apparently felt was a safe distance, she turned and screamed a single word: “Murderer!” Then she hurried away down the mall concourse, glancing back every few steps to make sure the “murderer” wasn’t in hot pursuit. Her leather Nikes squeaked on the waxed floor, and her leather purse flapped against her back as she fled.
Jill’s coat is a jacket-length model, made from gray fox and bobcat. Both she and I are very proud of it, since we gathered the raw materials ourselves from our high-country Arkansas trapline. It’s a beautiful garment, warm and fashionable at the same time, and Jill looks like a million bucks in it.
The girl’s reaction was hypocritical (after all,
