Disclaimer: Talking to animals and inanimate objects isn't as uncommon as it sounds. And if it is? Good.

A formal apology to the animals.

Please, all those who are near animals or have pets, could you read this to them, and let them know that I'm sorry.

Friends,

I'd like to formally apologize on behalf of the human race to all those not of our kind.

I acknowledge that it is almost entirely our fault.

Our pollution and radioactivity, our senseless destruction of the forests and jungles. These and more have led to our current predicament.

It is 11:20am on the suitably overcast morning of Saturday, the 20th of September 2003. I have just heard news of the ozone layer's new size.

The hole over Antarctica is now larger than North America, that is all I know as of yet.

I sincerely hope that the big-shot world leaders are having secret meetings, plotting intelligent plans for the salvage of our once beautiful planet.

If they are not, I pity us all.

We're going under.

One day the world will not be fit for us to reside upon, the UV rays are bound to destroy us.

Sci-fi lovers are bound to harp on about some kind of mass exodus, an evacuation to another home.

I doubt it.

Our end will probably come too soon for us to create the needed technology.

We will all die out.

Become extinct.

And frankly I think we deserve it.

We have spoiled the planet, doomed it and all inhabitants, human or not.

The only consolation that I can offer, I believe, is this:

If I should get a chance to leave here, the doomed planet.

I will turn it down.

It would kill me to leave the rest of the animals, which no doubt will be overlooked in any plans to flee.

If you are all to perish, because of us, it is only right that one of us, the perpetrators should stay to suffer with you.

I know that these words may not do much for our imminent doom, but perhaps it may comfort some of you out there.

I must say, being selfish, as my kind is known for, that it eases my conscience a fraction.

Know that I am with you, friends.

Whatever may happen.

~Courtney T. H. Ross~

E

A/N:

Guilt trip.