David McElroy

What would happen if everybody quit watching news? What would happen if people quit reading newspapers? Would the resulting world be more ignorant? Or would the resulting world be more interesting and insightful — as people started thinking about important things in their own lives instead of trivia in other people’s worlds?

I didn’t pay attention to a bit of news Wednesday. It was a very stressful day for me, so I just didn’t have time. I had some work deadlines that were pretty much impossible to meet, and I was worrying about a cat whose leg was being amputated. (Bessie came through surgery just fine, by the way. I might get to see her today, but she’ll be staying at the vet’s office at least through Friday.)

So I was busy enough — and preoccupied enough — that I didn’t read a news story or see any bit of news online or overhear any TV news story. Did it matter? Would it matter if I did the same thing every single day from now on?

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When I looked at Bessie’s injured paw Tuesday morning, I was horrified. What had been a slightly swollen but normal-looking paw had changed. It now looked more like a limb that had been caught in a meat grinder. The bones of her paw were exposed, because she had stripped away the dead flesh. It was gruesome. (Here’s a picture if you’re interested.)

You might remember how this whole mess started. Bessie somehow got her paw caught up in the threads of some fabric under my bed. The harder she pulled to get away, the tighter the threads became. She was trapped, but never made a sound. I even saw her underneath the bed 24 hours before I realized there was a problem, but she acted so normal that I didn’t suspect a thing.

When the vet saw her last week, he thought the flesh was still healthy enough to survive, but he told me to watch out in case it turned hard or crusty. Bessie noticed it was dead before I could, and she chewed it off by Tuesday morning.

I had her back at the vet’s office just a few minutes after I found this. I thought she might have to have much of her paw amputated, but I still didn’t understand how bad it was.

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I ran into a friend Monday afternoon who I hadn’t seen for awhile. I knew he had gotten married about 18 months or so ago, but I hadn’t heard any news of him since. He had some news for me. He and his wife had a baby boy a few months back, so he’s a father now.

I was happy for my friend, but I was also envious — because having my own family is something I’m really eager for. I’ve always known that I wanted children, and I want them even more as the years pass.

I’m glad I didn’t have kids when I was much younger, because I’m not sure I’d adequately dealt with my own childhood baggage to be a good parent. I fear that I might have left them just as damaged as I’d felt if I’d taken on the responsibility years ago. I feel ready now, but I’m under the impression that convincing the right woman to be the mother is a key prerequisite.

As I thought about all this again, I wondered — not for the first time — why human beings seem so driven to have families. Having children isn’t logical. They cost us money. There’s rarely a “return on investment” in the pragmatic sense. So why do most of us feel so driven to create families?

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