“Well shoot,” a young seal on an ice flow in the gulf of St. Lawrence thought to himself, as he watched a fishing boat disgorge a team of men onto an ice flow to promptly begin clubbing adorable animals over the head in businesslike fashion. “Maybe I should have spent more time learning to run, and less time perfecting how to look like a fuzzy ball of hugs.”
Seconds into Canada’s annual seal hunt, word was travelling fast through the seal community that the politics of beauty are actually only a human thing, and being really really good-looking isn’t going to save you from your first and last clubbing.
“Where’s an intelligent and self-sacrificing spider when you need one?” a seal pup who’d just finished reading Charlotte’s Web was heard to ask as the herd futilely shuffled around trying to find a way to escape the inevitable. “I need someone to spin a web saying ‘Radiant’ over my head, and I need it like now.”
A seal variety show and comedy hour does nothing to stop the determined ‘hunters,’ as the clubbers refer to themselves, in an attempt to distinguish themselves from people who regularly frequent the discotheques.
“Gather round pups,” said a juvenile seal of remarkable bravery and gumption, one they called Billiam Ballace. “I’ve got bad news, worse news, and some inspirational news.”
“The bad news is we’re all going to die.” The congregated seals glumly blinked their enormous eyes, and nodded sadly. Ballace continued.
“The worse news is it’s so we can become pretty awful-looking jackets, despite the humans having long ago perfected the technology of synthetic fibres.” The seals gently shook their heads and twitched their whiskers in outrage.
“But there is some good news,” the seal leader said, as the team of hunters approached, drawn to the dense gathering of fine fur. “We are absolutely gorgeous. That’s right, fellow pups. They may take our hides. But they’ll never take. Our furdom.”