people_and_animals raze you notice the air-sealed plastic bags, register what they hold, and think: these are my people. they've loved each other longer than you've been alive. their faces are lined with all the joy and pain they've shared. their bodies bent by all that's failed to break them. "i'm brenda," she says. and then, pointing at her husband: "he's brenda too. but some people call him wayne." she does most of the talking. he's happy just to hear her voice. you talk about animals. how they're born innocent. like us. how they learn what cruelty is from watching the way we claw at each other once we're old enough to hate. "it's always us who find a way to be unkind," she says. she asks if you've seen any squirrels today. you smile and say, "i think you'll find a lot of friends here. and i think they'll be just as happy to see you as you are to see them." 221023 what's it to you? who go blather from