Servals and Sanity: Really, Netherlands?
Seriously? A serval? In Gelderland? Are you kidding me with this story? I’m supposed to be worried about a wild cat – an African wild cat, mind you – roaming around while the country simultaneously struggles with… well, everything else? Its just peak Dutch absurdity.
I picture the scene: some incredibly relaxed farmer, calmly sipping his coffee and saying, Ja, there’s a serval in the field. Just ignore it, dear. Probably looking for tulips. Because thats how things are handled here, isnt it? With an almost unsettling level of placid acceptance.
And the police warning! As if a frantic panic is necessary. Be on the lookout! they proclaim. I mean, what am I supposed to do? Carry around a tranquilizer dart? Engage in a staring contest with a spotted feline predator? It’s just… delightful. Utterly delightful. This is precisely what my life needed: another layer of ridiculousness piled onto an already precarious foundation.
Im sure the logistical nightmare of wrangling a serval will be far less complicated than, say, addressing actual pressing issues. Please, Netherlands, find your wild cat. And then maybe, just maybe, address something that actually impacts daily life. A little perspective would be lovely.
