Author's Note

Rabbits are the third most euthanized animals in the United States, behind cats and dogs.
"In reality, most rabbits facing euthanasia were once family companions or classroom pets who were bought at pet stores or breeders and surrendered to shelters when the novelty wore off or at the conclusion of a school year." ("About SaveABunny").
Aside from families and teachers who don't need the rabbit for the purposes of enjoyment for children anymore, some rabbits wind up in shelters after they've suffered abuse, abandonment, and other acts of animal cruelty.
Luckily, many organizations help rescue rabbits who have been placed in shelters where they're next in line to be euthanized. One organization, the House Rabbit Society, has saved over 25,000 rabbits since 1988 ("House Rabbit Society Background").
25,000 is a large number. 25,000 is a shocking number. Yet, 25,000 is just a fraction of the amount of rabbits that have been rescued through these kind of organizations, and just a fraction of those that have not.
When you hear statistics about the number of animals that get put in shelters each year (about 6 to 8 million cats and dogs alone, half of whom are killed) or the amount of animals that are abused each day, I don't think that it affects you as much as if you see it firsthand.
So, the first time I volunteered at Sean Casey Animal Rescue, I was shocked at the amount of animal 's that were there. It was cramped and noisy, with cages stacked on top of one another. Since SCAR is a on-profit no-kill shelter organization, they work as hard as they can to maintain decent conditions, but I was wondering if this place was better that the animal's original home. If people were aware of these conditions or aware of what rescue centers did, would they be more valued in society? Or would problems such as animal abuse still be happening as frequently as it is now?
What I want readers to take away from this book is that no type of animal abuse is good.

If I Say It All Again Again Again It Doesn't Make It More True

I wonder if anybody ever wants to see the truth.

Or, at least the downsides of things. I think that it depends on whether you're an optimist or a pessimist. I feel as though optimistic people always try to block out the bad things, because to an optimist, almost everything has a solution and that solution will solve the problem they're dealing with, so they always look on the bright sides of things (or at least this is what I gather an optimist to be). There is always a positive outlook, a.k.a, the glass is half full. A pessimist is pretty much a person who looks at the downsides of things, the cons, the things that could go wrong with any theoretical solution to this theoretical problem. Me, being just that, always look for problems with things before getting my hopes up, thus resulting in the opposite of the phrase for optimistics: the glass is half empty.
I'm not saying that these are solid set types of people. Plenty of people are in-between, some are extremes in either, and some sit comfortably in one of the two. But I wonder if authors give clues to what the rest of the book is about through these groups.
So far, my answer is yes, even if it's not directly through the character in their dialogue or thoughts.
For example, Persepolis. The main character tells one of her mom's friend's daughter, "when people say that people are away on a trip, doesn't that mean that they're dead?". This was after the other girl, told the main character that her dad was on a trip.
To me, this statement is pretty pessimistic. Not only because it's obviously telling this girl that her dad is dead, but that it's said so casually, like it should be expected that he's dead because of the revolution. It's weird, because I was thinking that the main character was pretty optimistic. She "talks" to God, wanted to become a prophet, and always offered up solutions to problems.
But in books, most things aren't what you think they are. Looks can be deceiving.

Just like the lipeic tree in The Zookeeper's Wife.
First off, let me clear something up. I did not finish the book, so I don't know what happens at the end, or past around page 28. But I can tell you that I'm almost positive that the lipeic tree, a kind of lilac shrub, is a symbol or representation of something throughout the book.
The zookeeper's wife talks a lot (about a page and then some of font this or this big) about the lipeic tree. She talks about how it's beautiful, it makes her home beautiful, it makes her town beautiful. It makes everything beautiful and perfect in her life. Its flowers, its scent all make the lipeic tree beautiful and breathtaking.
I absolutely love what the author did next. Okay, I know that sounded super-corny but let me tell you, it is probably the most genius thing ever, because it's just like when magnets don't attract each other and wind up pushing each other away and you see the magnets move and sway without either one of them touching each other and your fingers barely moving.
What she said next was that the local slang for white lies was lipia.
Lipia. Lipeic.
Lipia. Lipeic.
Lipia. Lipeic.
I think it's pretty neat how she incorporates this seemingly small detail into her story with one sentence. While the Lipeic tree is supposed to be this beautiful, calming tree, something so similar is the opposite of what it actually is.
Like in Persepolis, a dad being on a trip is so innocent, but the fact that he might be dead brings doubts into your mind. Doing something big or small may not seems so simplistic or innocent anymore.
Anything can have two sides, and most things do: the optimistic side or the pessimistic side.
So which one do you beleive?

Dear Dr. Scarpetta...

I think that that woman could be the only person on earth who has put up with so many psychopaths breaking into her house at night.

Kay Scarpetta in the medical examiner (yes, a coroner) in Richmond, Virginia in Patricia Cornwell's mystery novels. With her detective "buddy" Marino, they're basically the average pair of people who solve crimes like in any other mystery novel.
What I like about Cornwell's books though are that you get to actually see into Kay's real life, a.k.a, her life at home, not just her bloody life at the morgue and with her jack*** of a commissioner named Amburgey. She actually has real feelings! (Unlike some un-blogging worthy books I've read).
Kay has a weird way to relieve her stress from work. Who wouldn't? I think that you need a little more than yoga or getting drunk to help yourself feel better when you're getting stalked by a guy who's planning to trick you then stab you or strangle you and rape you like he did to 5 other women.
So, Kay relieves herself by cooking Italian food. It's like a little blanket that she hides under from the rest of the world. After a hard day at work she goes home, drinks some liquor, and prepares to go to bed.
I always will wonder when she realizes that making food and drinking alcohol won't help anything, especially since she always happens to it a few days before or the very day that the person who killed everybody else tries to kill her, too.
I think that maybe for some people who hide from the world like Kay have a thick, tight warm blanket around them, but sometimes the blankets have small holes or tears that make the people inside them feel insecure. We all fell insecure, but when you've been in a cocoon for a while, you sort of get used to the dark. Then, when you see the outside world, you're frozen like a deer in headlights because you're so used to seeing the world from the inside of a safe little shell. As tempting as it may be to be addicted to the darkness and not want to see the reality side of things, you always should. If you don't, you're living your whole life in isolation. You're ignoring the world and what it has to offer. And maybe when the opportunity of a lifetime comes along, you'll be hiding. You won't even be there to miss it.

But keep it up, Scarpetta!
KEEP FIGHTING THE EVIL FORCES