cthia wrote:Here is an account of an email my 13-yr-old niece sent to me. It's a rather humorous - yet poignant, consideration that we may not have fully appreciated, as to why humans might wish to push treecat consumption of purple thorn or genengineer something differently...Hi Uncle,
You had better make my next recital!
I was informed by the grapevine how funny some of the threads have become. It is hilarious. Curiously missing from the purple thorn vs. celery discussion is a certain detail. Namely...
We might need to consider the POV of the implications of a treecat's person, who has to contend with their treecat consuming large amounts of difficult to digest celery.
Difficult to digest foods produce exorbitant amounts of gas. And the expulsion vector of a treecat - sitting atop their human's shoulders, places it perilously close to one's olfactory organ, creating a baptism by fire.
If you have a treecat perched on your shoulder, you'd much rather they have more of a, hmm, less malodorous emissions spectrum.
We really wouldn't want a treecat's biological processes to surprise us, by converting gases into its liquid form producing a variation of SOS.
Shit on a Shoulder.
Because anything else, is uncivilized.
–Tierney![]()
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Don't know about you, but I nearly choked on my lunch.
SWM wrote:Actually, I believe this is mentioned briefly in the text--there is a reason Honor calls Nimitz Stinker!
cthia wrote:Well, it's certainly obvious to me now! Although, I can't say that I actually made the connection without this email.
I recall it being asked why Nimitz is called Stinker in another thread w/o an answer. After researching the forums, it was "bunyipbelle," second post on page.
viewtopic.php?f=1&t=6219&p=160209&hilit=why+is+nimitz+called+stinker#p160209
An amusing idea, but one that doesn't quite fit the facts. Celery doesn't seem to give treecats gas, but instead makes them constipated:
Boldface and underlined text is my emphasis.Fire Season, Chapter 3 wrote:“Bleek!” Lionheart said. The SFS staff had provided him with a stool so that he could sit next to Stephanie and still comfortably see over the table. When Stephanie had gotten her cocoa, she’d brought him some cubes of cheese, but she had no doubt what he was asking for now.
“Not really a good idea,” she said.
“Is he asking for celery?” said Dr. Emberly, the woman who had been introduced as the xenobiologist.
Stephanie smiled ruefully. “He is. He’s known it was here since we walked into the room—heck, he probably knew as soon as we got into the building. From what we can tell, treecats have a wonderfully sharp sense of smell.”
“Is it all right if I give him some?” asked Virgil Iwamoto.
Stephanie considered. “Well, Lionheart had some celery just last night, so he shouldn’t have too much. Treecats are more carnivores than omnivores and . . .”
She wished she hadn’t started in on this, but having done so, she pushed on, inelegant though the subject might be. She hoped Anders didn’t think she was being crass or crude.
“. . . Well, it makes them constipated if they eat too much of it. Lionheart had some real problems when he first came to live with us, but Dad figured out the problem. Now I give Lionheart doses of what’s basically cod-liver oil a couple times a week. Since he likes fish, it isn’t too much trouble.”
“Interesting,” said Dr. Emberly. “Extra fiber usually gives terrestrial animals gas. Eating it helps eliminate blockage. I wonder what the difference is in the metabolisms?”