For pets, hunter pets, or rocks-in-my-sleeping bag. Mother Nature? Yes, ma'am, I know you're very down-to-earth, granola-Birkenstock-wearing-vegan-self-righteous and all, but seriously, cough up the Unborn, the Quiraji, and the spirit thingies now. Or else. One night, I'll get up and get myself a cold pop, and smell a barbecue. And it won't be pretty.