It Was A Cat. Not A Baby.

For those of you who spent your time on Facebook, or outside a dental clinic, or whining in the break area about the dead lion yesterday, I’d like to point out that it was a cat.

A big, beautiful cat. An old cat. A famous cat. A cat that was possibly legally taken by the hunter in question, perhaps not. I wasn’t there. So the technical nature of the kill is beyond my current knowledge base.

I did, however, happen to spend a few minutes of my morning praying outside a Planned Death (they call it parenthood) abortion mill in my home town. There were three of us there at 8:15 this morning. Oh, and one woman in a ‘we-kill-babies’ smock who wouldn’t make eye contact while we prayed on the sidewalk. They rip children out of their mothers under the protection of the law. They use my tax dollars to do this unspeakable act.

Sad that the puddy-tat died. Much more sad that members of our own species are wiped out by the thousands every day in this country in abortions. Even more sad, and grotesque, the parts are sold off to make a nifty profit. The procedure has been modified so that it’s not so “crunchy.” Crunchy. Like the noise made when babies are crushed by forceps.

For those of you spitting at your computer and shreiking about what a misogynist I am, and that it’s the law to allow legal and safe abortions, go ahead. It’s not safe for the children they are killing. It is legal.

So were the Nuremberg laws at one time. So was wife-beating. So was slavery (it’s called by other names, but it’s the same thing in some countries.) So were gas chambers, death camps, and gulags. It is by definition legal if the state does it in most places.

I’d like to think a human being is more important to mourn than a cat. After all, you can teach a human to do calculus, but you can’t teach a cat.

Those of you who get the joke will weep when you think about it.

I’ll be on the sidewalk again next week. I’m done pretending that abortion is a choice of anything but death for a kid.

If you support that foul group of Sangerites that scrape children out of their mothers to turn a profit, I hope you come to your senses before judgement day. I’m a sinner and have a lot to answer for in this life. I’m devoutly glad that is not on the list. Hasn’t been since I hit adulthood. No United Way. No Combined Federal Campaign. Nada. I give my money to life affirming groups. (By the way, the really wonderful part of Christianity is the concept that if you confess your sins and repent (ask forgiveness and acknowledge your wrong) you can be washed clean in the process. Jesus is very good in that way. Well, in every way. Never to late to make up for an abortion if you want.)

Defund the death merchants. Which reminds me: Mitch McConnell, you stink like death if you continue to play games on this issue. Be clear, be forthright, and don’t try the double-dazzle bait-and-switch that you have in progress.

I’ll also spare any of you the pain of writing to me in the comments about why the death of the cat is bad and the death of babies helps medical science. If it’s so hot, how about volunteering your children? Or yourself? I mean, it’s really important research, right? Oh… well, never mind. I won’t be posting your comments anyway.

Now, back to the missing Malaysian airliner, the guy wearing a dress and claiming to be a woman, and the crucially important celebrity divorce in country music.

Joseph Courtemanche

About Joseph Courtemanche

I’m a conservative Christian author who’s been happily married for over 30 years. I am a Veteran of the United States Navy, Naval Security Group. I speak a few languages, I have an absurd sense of humor and I’m proud to be an American.

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