I’m a little ambivalent about certain acts or behaviors. While I would hate to be bumped off before my actuarially predicted time, having all sorts of thoughts about things it’d be nice to do before I croak, if it happened that I got knocked off some precipice in a windstorm and smashed into smithereens, it would be only fair for a bunch of buzzards to come and pick over my guts for the tastiest tidbits, even if I weren’t quite wholly dead yet, because… well, because that’s what buzzards are made for. It’s what comes naturally to them. They can’t be blamed for taking my squishy repose as an all-you-can-eat buffet sign.
On the other hand, you can’t take this as carte blanche and go shoving me off any handy cliff. As a person, you are expected to wait patiently for the wind to come up sufficiently for the aforementioned to take place and not be trying to hustle me off this mortal coil. It may come naturally to some humans to be quite treacherous, too, but there’s this little thing called ethics, if not sheer good manners, that ought to stand in the way of such things. So you’ll forgive me if I keep up the occasional glance over my shoulder at you but expect in general that you’ll keep your paws to yourself and let nature take its course, howsoever much you might wish to speed things up and all. I’m not that awful, am I?