Defenders of Wildlife sent me a sticker proclaiming "Proud Wolf Pup Sponsor. I have this urge to send Defenders a much better slogan: "Proud Habitat Sponsor." The idea being that if we seriously start thinking about habitats ... places for our species and others to live and thrive ... we will have crossed a divide we haven’t paid much attention to, but it’s there, between us and the rest of the world. We would be sharing habitats.

In the kitchen, waiting for rain, I fell into a doze, arguing that thought with old friends and acquaintances. Life sure had taken many a turn since those shining hours of easy-going comeraderie. Not so easy this time. We were biting and snarling. Not much fun. Who needs enemies?

It started off mildly enough, Dogger’s voice ... we called him Dogger because he was good at imitating dogs, little rug rats to big Siberian huskies. Had a good wolf howl too and coyote yips. "Martin," he said. "you’re forgetting that sponsoring a wolf pup is next door to owning it, so it’s likely the sponsor might pay more attention to the environment. You know, things that give his or her pup a good chance at life. That’s a step forward, don’t you think?"

I asked if it wasn’t humanly possible to once in a while take two or even three steps at a time.

Another voice. "Too revolutionary, Murie. I remember that habit of yours, wanting to move fast, out of step with reality. You seemed to take a certain pride in that pose."

I recognized the deep tone of absolute certitude. He had all the answers and hung onto them like they were part of his excuse for living. That hadn’t changed. I tried a little diplomacy. "I think Global Warming has a hopeful side. Good news."

Certitude ... I’d forgotten his real name ... agreed wholeheartedly, but didn’t ask for the good news. "It’s all about alternative sources of energy. It’s about time the economy got into that."

I said I wasn’t all that keen on alternative energy tied to moves on the rulers’ chess board, people management. "Subsidizing wind power in places where there isn’t much wind, turning food crops into ethanol, all that techno-market-economy talk, reminds me of something the president said. He’d decided his mission was to preserve the American Way of Life. Turned out that way, didn’t it? He and his oily friends started a war to get into the business of grabbing as much oil as possible for the American Way. It’s clear by now that sharing habitats with wolves and whales and redwoods and whitebark pines and flower-loving flies, let alone other nations, other people, was never included in that decision."

Self-satisfied chuckle from Certitude. "Sort of pricks that balloon of yours, Murie, that pie-in-the-sky thing about habitats. Energy is the big deal now. As I said, it’s about time. ndangered species can wait, we’ll deal with them later, if necessary. Al Gore had to happen. I don’t like the guy, but in our economy it takes a celeb to make people wake up. By the way, why do you keep going around preaching about this flower-loving fly?"

"That fly is an endangered species."

"Irrelevant. The Endangered Species Act is just a big show to keep liberals and leftists happy. Extinction is a key part of the workings of this world. Yoiu’re in denial there, old pal."

I bristled at that "old pal" bit. Amazing, truly amazing, the divergence of our paths. I gave my usual spiel about flower-loving flies equipped with long probosces to suck nectar from flowers. They are on the edge of extinction, hanging on in southern California, only 12 habitats left, the largest is 350 acres owned by two sand-and-gravel companies on the Agua Marisas Enterprise Zone slated for commercial development. "Habitat," I said. "Without places to live, species die. These flies are like canaries in the coal mine that nobody mentions."

I was really wound up, went on about big Al and his slide show and his book and the Oscar occasion. He’d been in the White House in official capacity, so people sat up and took notice. I could agree with ol’ Certitude on that. Environmental awareness at long last, big blaze, hell of a lot more impact than a few hundred tree huggers trying to save bits of wilderness. But I wanted to nail down this ownership thing. What does it mean to "sponsor" a wolf pup? What does it mean to own an animal or a piece of land or a uranium mine? And that reminded me of Paris Hilton, her going around with that furry jungle animal across her shoulders. I had sent her an e-mail. No, I’m not lying, I actualy did that, suggesting she might want to have a confidential talk with a close friend about acting like she owned that jungle beast. I heard later that the animal had bitten her. Then the breaking parole et cetera and now she’s in jail and out of jail and in again.

"So, what’s your point?" Dogger asked.

"Owning things has a strong tendency to shy far away from sharing. That’s my point."

Another voice. I remembered her but her name escaped me. She was saying, "I love to own things. I have a five-bedroom home with lawn and lots of trees and a backyard swimming pool and I’m about to plunge on a new car and I have an Irish Wolfhound and two cats and a loving husband and we all get along fine."

"Uh ... " I managed.

Another voice. Took me a while to tag it. Ah, right, Simpson, the one who wanted to be a diplomat, part of the foreign affairs establishment. "Martin, I’m afraid you just don’t get it. Owning things is a part of our American culture. You can’t just go around acting like it’s some kind of weird calamity. I’m going to suggest something here, and I hope you won’t take offense. I think you and Al Gore have something in common."

"Heaven forbid," I said.

"No, listen, this is serious, what I’m trying to say, you and Al are both liberal to a fault, practically socialist."

"The Wall Street Journal tagged Al with that," I said.

"That’s where you got it."

"You’re right, I did , and the WSJ is a fine paper. However, I do have my own talent for nosing out leftish views. I work in the city, you know, or maybe you didn’t know."

"You mean, New York?"

"Of course."

"Stockbroker?" I asked, trying to be funny?

"Yes, that is my trade."

Silence, all us ghosts taking it in.

Then ol’ Certitude again. "Forget those flies, can’t you? Forget Paris Hilton. Global Warming is the blockbuster on the agenda now, Murie. You know something? I’m really sick and tired of environmentalist exaggerations and snide hits at our system of government and our economy. The way you people carry on is a crying shame. It’s next door to communism."

I blew up. "Look, old pal, do you think shock and awe bombing of Baghdad and before that, under Clinton, the bombing of Belgrade, and bafore that the A-bomb, under Truman and before that the bombing of London and Leipzig under Hitler and Churchill were not exaggerated exercises of extremist power? Just kids playing around with fire crackers? Belgrade, that was the capital of Yugoslavia, at the time."

"I know what Belgrade was, and it was a NATO war to free captive peoples."

I tried to interrupt but no go, Certitude ruled. "Let’s get back to alternative energy. We need it and the sooner the better. Fortunately, and I give Gore some credit, we’re launched now, on our way to finding and using those sources."

"Right." That was the Wolfhound woman. "I’m really excited about alternative energy. Wind, solar, hydrogen, biofuel, tidal, earth heat, super batteries. There is so much great technology we can get into. Martin, why are you so down on all of this?"

"I’m not down on it, but I can’t help noticing the oil and auto corporations losing no time to set up a huge propaganda campaign. Can’t recall all their excuses, but they say they absolutely have to have years and years to make the switchover. Besides, they’re all besotted with the president’s love of The American Way. Well, get this, engineers, who tend to know their stuff, say we can right away convert to efficient vehicles; just a little tinkering is all it takes; we already have the tricks to make the switch. And some of them go so far as to talk up public transport, efficient railroads that run on steel instsead of asphalt."

Another voice. I knew right away who it was, that annoying Republicrat fence-sitter, but his name eluded me, and then came the big surprise of the day. I was flabberblasted. This wishy-washy friend ... ah, I got it, name was Dalloway, Hal Dalloway. Well, he’d done a total 180. Here’s what he said. "Martin, don’t let them get you down. The American Way, that’s just more crowd management, been going on since Jefferson and Franklin and all the rest of those rascals. The answer is obvious: change our way of life. Also, please, we all have to keep firmly in mind that we can’t stop global wrming. Nature doesn’t turn around just on our technological say-so. However, we can, if we have the will, slow it down, get ready for it and expect surprises along the way."

"Surprises?" That was the Wolfhound woman. "I don’t like surprises."

"Sorry, you’ll have to get used to them, the one thing we can be sure of, happenings out of the blue, totally unexpected. Like, wham, a lot fewer bees. What happened? We don’t know yet. Consequences, my friends, consequences. Like permafrost melting faster than expected, releasing more methane than predicted. Like melting of Greenland glaciers pouring mountains of fresh water into salt-water Atlantic. What will that do to ocean currents there?. Fishermen in Maine would like to know. Like drouth in the western half of the country. How much worse will it get? Hurricanes, tsunamis, tornadoes, earthquakes, floods, volcanic eruptions. How many? When? Where? We don’t have to get terrified about these things, but we do have to prepare for uncertainty. The good news is that surprises can be good as well as bad. That’s the very nature of surprise, right? Scientists report that the Gulf Stream, warm water that keeps Europe from freezing, is unlikely to be totally abolished by global warming. That’s a plus, for us."

Certitude again. "You’ve changed Hal. I see the leftwing virus got to you too. Well, as for Murie here, I remember back when we were all young and lively I pegged him as an extremist, always took up the far-out position on whatever was coming down. I can say it now, didn’t dare to then, probably severe rebellion against his father is what that was all about. That happens a lot, you know, has nothing to do with real grappling with hard decisions in world reality. I felt a little sorry for him. Never mind, that’s water under the bridge. Getting back to climate change, I’m sure we can lick it well enough for our purposes without having to get all revolutionary about it. I’m all for biofuels and wind power and solar and all that. I have faith in America and I have to say this, I’m disappointed in you, Hal, and you, Murie, for being bogged down in fantasy. It’s dangerous, you know, this flirting with ... I have to say it ... unpatriotic behavior."

I blew my top. I shouted, out loud, woke myself up from this weird doze in the ghostlands of the past. "I’ll put up my faith in America against yours any time. You live in a corporation-driven dreamworld, don’t know damn all about what goes on in drouth areas, the damaged places, the wounds in Earth and in Humanity, the horror of it all matched by complacency, superiority, tunnel vision. You are a God Bless America type, willing to kill, kill, kill."

I ran out of breath. No more voices, alone in the kitchen, coffee boiling over, Alison at the library, a feral cat stalking a tiny brown bird in the heavy growth seen through the kitchen window. I noticed cobwebs in the window corners. No rain.

So, the upshot, those voices had wounded my easy thought, rather complacent, I admit it now, that the threat of drastic climate change was turning America’s collective mind beyond technological fixes to contemplate the dirt and rock and water, the great oceans and grand glaciers, the plants and animals. I had been hoping we Americans might learn to share with other humans as well as other species. I think there is still a chance that it will happen and if it does, watch out America, we will be building the real dream.

While there is still a little Z space left, I want to remind us all that Al Gore has concentrated all his celebrity status on one species, us, /Homo sapiens sapiens/. Notice that we are a subspecies. /Homo sapiens neanderthalensis/ died out a long time ago. So, speaking as a member of a subspecies, I say that it’s time to think hard about what’s ahead. Suppose there were no threats of climate change; we would still be faced with this question: do we tone down on ownership enough to share habitats with The Others?

Oh, Paris Hilton, so busy sounding off, almost forgot about you. It is my fervent hope that you used jail time to think beyond your split fingernails and the orange jumpsuit they forced on you. It’s the chance of a lifetime, grab it. It’s a life preserver thrown to you in the nick of time, use it.