I like alligators.
I respect alligators. After
seeing how they surround our national government, however, how they are up to
our President’s knees at times, don’t ask me to befriend them. To make friends with alligators at the same
time I keep my distance from them seems to be an impractical relationship.
Alligators lurk in many places. Once they showed up in a church that I served. Circling, menacing, snapping . . . They hissed falsehoods and sang old songs no
one knew. They are kin to crocodiles,
and some might mistake one breed for the other.
Both are dangerous to keep around as pets. When they are let loose in a congregation,
the dangers last long after their audition, and leave their wounds, which then
leave scars, and then bad memories. When
they began to circle me, I tried to play nice, say kind words to them, and pet
their knobby heads. Almost lost a few
fingers with that last attempt.
It’s best to avoid alligators in churches. There they tend to be even more deadly, and
can destroy everyone who is present. My
own efforts to befriend them resulted in their becoming even more
destructive. I learned finally to get
out of there and find safe haven elsewhere.
The ancient church alligator grinned a huge toothy smile of joy upon my
departure. I later learned that it
consequently attacked the congregation, with the help of a bevy of younger
beasts. Stay away from churches that nurture
alligators. They are bad news.
As for alligators in swamps, when they remain in their
natural habitats I have no complaints.
