I bring home a trapped coyote and let it loose in the kitchen. Hackles up. Teeth bared. Pissing on the floor. My wife says, "Get it out." I tell her that is a very unwelcoming and unchristian way to speak about a future house pet. The children back into the hallway. I tell them it's a rescue. I tell them fences are fear. I tell them cages are barbaric. I tell them the old rules were cruel. I tell them it will domesticate in time. Then I grab my lunchbox and leave them to live with my principles. When I get home, there is blood on the floor, and the experts who sold me on compassion are already explaining why nobody could have seen this coming. Anyway, that's Western migration policy.