The Lingering Shame Of Mankind ..................Continued

The whaling industry is another example of mankind’s brutality to creatures we share this planet with. Japan’s yearly whale hunt slaughters many species including the endangered humbacks, not only for their blubber used in cleansing and other commercial products, but also their flesh for human consumption, considered a delicacy by many middle and far eastern societies. The killing method of choice for the very large mammals is by firing harpoon laden explosive charges that detonate within the whales body, usually killing them instantly, but at times causing a slow agonizing death to these gentle giants. For many of the smaller whales, non explosive carrying harpoons are fired into their bodies, often two or more times as they struggle to stay alive. After being hauled aboard the whaling vessels, sometimes still slightly conscious, they are skinned and dissected for the processing plants while being towed to port. It is pointed out that Japan, though the most prominent offender, is not the only country engaged in the barbaric slaying of these gentle ocean going beings.

The Lingering Shame Of Mankind .................continued

The way a society treats its animals, particularly horses, speaks to the core values and morals of its citizens. The cruel treatment and slaughter of horses, both wild and domesticated is of grave concern to equine rescue groups and horse lovers around the world. Although the slaughter of horses for human consumption in the United States has been banned, around 100,000 horses are killed annually by foreign owned slaughter houses in America for human consumption in other countries. Additionally, many thousands of horses are shipped annually to slaughter houses in Canada and Mexico for the same purpose. They are transported in low clearance, deck cattle trailers for 24 hours or more without food, water or rest; and without separating the stallions from the mares or foals, causing injury from crowding and infighting during the trip. Upon arrival at the slaughter house, they are rendered unconscious, usually by captive bolt to the head before being shackled, hoisted by a rear leg and slit across the throat. However, some are improperly stunned, and despite repeated blows, are still conscious when they are being shackled. In Mexico, an alternate, more tortuous method of ending their lives is by stabbing in the back and severing the spinal cord, causing a slow agonizing lapse into unconsciousness and death to an already terrified animal. And the horror goes on and on against these very loving, gentle and sociable animals. Probably, the most superhuman thing about horses is th contrast between their unearthly strength and their inherent gentleness. The passage of the American Horse Slaughter Prevention Act
(H.R. 503/S. 1915) would put in place an immediate and permanent ban on, not only the slaughter of horses within the United States, but the exportation of horses for slaughter abroad.

The Lingering Shame Of Mankind ............continued

The inhumane treatment of factory farm industry animals is no less unconscionable than that which mankind is capable of inflicting upon itself, to wit, “the holocaust” during World War I l. Calves taken from their mothers when they are less than one month old, are confined to tiny enclosures called “veal crates”, where they are unable to turn around and have to lie in their own excrement while sleeping. They are put on a special diet which causes them to become anemic and keeps their meat lean and pink for future human consumption. This is the way these helpless creatures live out their short sixteen years of life until they are led to slaughter. Farm pigs undergo a similar fate when pregnant sows are imprisoned in two foot wide “gestation crates”, where they too have no room to turn around and must live, eat and sleep amidst their own feces and urine until being slaughtered for pork. Egg laying hens are mercilessly jammed into “battery cages”, wire enclosures so restrictive, they cannot spread their wings or even turn around. AS baby chicks, the tips of their upper beaks are cauterized and smoothed tp prevent pecking injury to handlers while being confined to their cages when they become adult hens. The modified beaks also make it difficult to eat and engage in the natural habit of grooming their feathers.

The Lingering Shame Of Mankind ............continued

Household pets, like cats and dogs, are considered as much a family member as their very own children by many caring, responsible people across the land. Yet in less considerate situations, they are neglected and abused when their owners decide they have become a financial encumbrance and shirk all responsibility for their continued care. Rather than being taken to an animal shelter, rescue facility or sanctuary, they are often abandoned in remote, desolate, uninhabitable places where their chances of survival are very slim. Dogs acquired as puppies become “backyard dawgs”, chained to a fence, post or tree for hours or days at a time, without shelter from the ravages of hot, cold or inclement weather, and with minimal food and clean water at their disposal. As a result, they become susceptible to life threatening disease and ailments from prolonged exposure to such conditions. Yet , in spite of neglect and abuse, many dogs remain inexplicably loyal to their owners, perhaps because of an intrinsic need to love and belong to someone, rather than not belonging to anyone at all. Sometimes, even under the worst imaginable conditions, a dog’s ongoing loyalty to its owner(s) is legendary. Is it any wonder then, that the indomitable canine has earned the noble distinction of being called “Man’s Best Friend”?

The Lingering Shame Of Mankind ............continued

I truly believe our animal friends were put on Earth for a godly and moral reason, and deserve the same respect, love and consideration we desire. They are “God’s other children” our unspeaking earthly companions that cannot tell us of their suffering and pain. Why then are millions upon millions of them treated so egregiously by nations throughout the world? Even The United States Of America, the most resourceful, abundant and sociological advanced nation on earth, has yet to enact and enforce stringent laws prohibiting inhumane laboratory experiments on innocent, helpless animals, and by its inaction, remains a shameful partner in the global animal cruelty arena.

The Lingering Shame Of Mankind

(A Treatise On Animal Abuse And Cruelty Around The World)

THE GREATNESS OF A NATION AND ITS MORAL PROGRESS
CAN BE JUDGED BY THE WAY IT TREATS ITS ANIMALS
Mohandis Ghandi

Descriptive Detail Throughout This Article May Be Upsetting To Some Readers. Reader Discretion Is Advised.


PROLOGUE
I have often pondered the question ”do animals, like human beings, have a soul"? I believe they do. Although it cannot be seen or held, weighed or measured, the soul exists, nevertheless ,beyond the persona and physical form; an unseen (spiritual) entity that defines the very essence of what it is to have life, i.e., to be alive! Many years ago, when I saw my beloved cat Jason, right after he died, I had the most eerie awareness that something was missing; indeed gone. His soul (spirit) had departed to another realm, and, in that very moment, I realized that Jason, as I knew and loved him, was no longer here, nor will he ever be again. I also believe that animals have feelings and go through the same litany of emotions, i. e., fear, anxiety, anger, joy, sadness, loneliness and depression that we human beings experience throughout our lives. ..............to be continued

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Household pets are, of course, cherished members of many families. If you love animals, as I do, and would like a professionally written story about your pet(s), I encourage you to contact me to discuss the details of your pet’s story. If you are interested, let’s get together soon.

Animal Hit And Run: Misdemeanor Or Felony?

In virtually every state in the nation, the act of drivers knowingly hitting an animal and fleeing the scene of the incident is considered a misdemeanor rather than a felony. I suggest that every such incident be mandated and prosecuted as a felony just as it is when a human being is the victim. The animals certainly deserve that consideration. What say you, dear reader?

Amadeus

Hello! I am a Hermann tortoise and my name is “Amadeus”. My species hails from France, where I was adopted by an American tourist visiting an exotic pet store in Paris, where I spent two miserable, boring months in captivity. Anyway, my new adoptive parents took me home with them to America and glorious Southern California where I am now part of a wonderful cooky family. I say cooky because how many people do you know that are nutty enough to take on a turtle as a household pet? Not too many, I’m sure.

My new home is an elegant three story town house in Santa Monica, where I now get to roam (slowly) about a beautiful high rise patio garden and sundeck all day long. I must tell you, it sure beats the living heck out of that noisy pet store in Paris. One of my adoptive parents (female version) is an avid equestrian, so I also get to go horseback riding on “Christopher Robin”, her miniature stallion, and sometimes on “Goliath”, her high rise stallion. Since saddles for turtles are hard to come by, I have to ride bareback. And what an experience it is. I love it!

This coming weekend, we’re going ti the high desert, where I’ll get to meet lots of interesting critters like Geckos and other tiny lizards (which I love to eat if they’re small enough and I’m hungry enough) and also some big guys , like desert foxes and coyotes which I’ve heard so much about. If any of them get rambunctious with me, I’ve got my shell an beak to have a go at it. Snakes I can do without, especially rattlers, but if I come across any, I’ll just have to keep my head tucked deep into my shell. And who knows, I might even come across a friendly desert tortoise or two. And how about rock climbing? I guess I could do it if it isn’t straight up. Na, even then I don’t think so. My schtick is level! Anyway, we’ll spend two days in the desert and hope I don’t get lost. Then Its back to the city.

My new human mom and dad are really cool, and very smart too. And I know they love me. Next week they’re taking me to the vet for a thorough checkup. And after that, I’ll be going to the groomer where my shell will be scraped and polished and my nails trimmed. After that it’s back to the patio garden and sundeck where I’ll lull about all day long doing absolutely nothing. Ah, what a life!  What a life!

By the way, dear reader, this has been my first cut at story writing. Not bad for a turtle, eh? I hope you enjoyed this little tale as much as I enjoyed writing it. And remember, don’t be a finger nipper when someone tries to pet you, as I once did until my human dad broke me of the habit. It doesn’t win you many friends.

Au revoir et salut

Mel Salvat
Cathedral City, California

Rusty Remembered

Its been approximately four and one half years since I first came across Rusty. While going to fellowship services one beautiful February morning, there appeared on the chapel grounds the most distressed looking Chow I have ever seen. He was terribly emaciated, frightened and untrusting. Probably he had been abused, neglected and abandoned by some uncaring person at one time in his life, or perhaps he had always been a “dog of the streets”.

As I cautiously approached him, I noticed what little coat he had left was terribly matted, and lesions covered his entire body, causing uncontrollable itching, bleeding and pain. When I gazed into his big brown eyes, I saw the forlorn look of loneliness and despair. But I also sensed within him a deep spiritual soul begging him on and telling him “you’re going to be okay, my friend”. Tears welled and my heart went out to him. It was in that moment I realized that this sad and fearful animal somehow reminded me of my own unhappy, tortured childhood and I became determined to do all I could to give him a second chance at life.

Rusty continued to hang around the chapel grounds day after day as if he knew the dear lord would work through someone there to give him that second chance at life. I became that someone, bringing him food, water and pats on the head daily for the next month or so. Whenever I arrived he was anxiously waiting for me. The bond between us became inseparable.

Rusty was finally picked up and taken to the local animal shelter, and with the help of my canine rescue friend, Sharon Levy, released and hospitalized for long term medical treatment and rehabilitation. Rusty became one handsome, healthy Chow with a “teddy bear” face and a delightful personality. Sadly, the pet regulations of my community kept me from adopting him. Consequently, Rusty was taken to the desert humane society’s Orphan Pet Oasis, an extraordinary “no Kill” sanctuary in North Palm Springs, California, where he will happily remain until he is adopted or goes to “doggie heaven”. Meanwhile this wonderful canine has become my very special “pet away from home”.

I visit Rusty as often as possible, to play with him, give him some goodies and take him on long, brisk walks. He is always excited and happy to see me, as I am to see him.. This wonderful “born again” Chow has taught me so much about unconditional love and trust, but above all, about being grateful. Thank you Rusty, my friend. May God bless you and keep you well. You will forever be in my heart and thoughts.

Mel Salvat
Cathedral City, California

Remembering Jason

Recently, I thought about the day when Jason first came into my life and stayed with me for sixteen wonderful years. The day he passed away was truly one of the most heart wrenching days of my life. The sudden realization of never seeing him again was unbearable. I thought about the day I met Jason, and how our meeting came to be. My girl friend, Kelly, called me that morning to tell me she found a kitten roaming about the department store parking lot where she just finished shopping. She said “honey, I remember you telling me how much you wanted to get a cat. Well, you just have to see this little guy. He’s just adorable”

So I rushed out to meet Kelly, sitting in her car on the parking lot. There, perched on her shoulder was this tiny, bright eyed, orange and white, four legged fuzz ball. When I picked him up, he nudged against my cheek, started purring and began kneading the front of my neck. He certainly was a friendly little guy, but had a terrible smell from feces residue caked in his coat. It was nothing that soap and water couldn’t cure, so I decided to take him to my apartment (picking up cat food and a litter box along the way) and give him a bath (an event most cats find very distasteful). But he began purring at full volume when the warm water ran over his body. After his bath, I put him down on the floor, and his innate curiosity instantly kicked in to begin checking out every nook and cranny in the place.

The next day, when I came home from work, he was nowhere to be found. I searched everywhere, so I thought. “But where could he be”? He just couldn’t vanish into thin air! In my fear and frustration, I sat on the sofa to think and gather my thoughts. Did I miss some secret hiding place he happened to come upon? When I leaned back against a cushion, I heard a loud squeal behind me, and lo and behold, there he was, curled up behind the cushion, nervously glaring back at me as if to ask “why did you sit on me? I picked him up to calm him and, as if he understood, asked him to forgive me. It was then I decided to name him “Jason”, a name I felt just seemed to fit him. In the ensuing years, Jason and I bonded intensely and became the best of pals. He loved getting his baths and followed me around wherever I went, like a puppy dog in a cats body. Some people think all cats are snobbish, unsociable creatures that simply put on acts to get what they want from their masters. But Jason was nothing like that, adding so much to my experience of life with his love and concern, and his totally unbridled companionship. Jason grew up to be quite a large, long haired ”tabby” and constantly shed wherever he went. There was hair everywhere, even in the refrigerator. How it got there always astonished me. On bright sunny days he enjoyed sitting out on the balcony and peering down thru the railing bars, watching people going to and fro, while wearing the harlequin style sunglasses I brought to protect his eyes from the bright sun. It became an almost daily ritual that comically endeared him to everyone in the building.

Our relationship went on for the better part of sixteen years. Then, one day, I noticed him getting quite thin and lethargic, gradually losing his appetite and the desire to go prancing around the house. He got progressively worse, day after day and was becoming a pretty sick kitty. So I took him to the vet to find out what was going on. After an extensive checkup and many tests, it turned out that Jason, my loyal and wonderful best friend, was going into renal failure and the prognosis for his survival was not very good, maybe two months at best with proper medication, treatment, and lots of love. My heart ached and my eyes filled with tears at the thought that I would soon be without him. But there was nothing I could do except to shower him with the same love I had given him throughout his life and pray for happiness in his coming journey. For the next few weeks I would sleep on the sofa, picking him up to rest on the blanket crevassed between my legs. At first, he had enough strength to crawl up onto my chest and gaze mournfully into my eyes. Later on I had to lift him up to rest with me.

l like to think that Jason knew he was soon to enter a new world; a new life, and he finally did. After waking up one morning I noticed him lying on his side, legs outstretched, under the dining room table. He had passed during the night. His sightless eyes were wide open and I bent down to close them and kiss him goodbye. My veterinarian sent a staff member to recover Jason’s body and, at my request, have him cremated. His ashes were spread in the surf not far from where we lived. Jason was truly “A Cat For All Times”. I still think about him and miss him after all these years. Jason, “thank you for being a very big and important part of my life”.

Mel Salvat
Cathedral City, California

Bonzai

A California couple I’ve known for many years own a large, very sociable, yet covertly devious orange and white tabby, who, for all one knows, could be “Garfield’s” cousin. At a slim 23 pounds, Bonzai has been the “Master” of their household for over 8 years and obviously determined to hold the reins as long as he can.

On a brisk Thanksgiving morning, he was found by their daughter, Lara, wide eyed and shivering, lurking in the bushes on the front lawn, a pipsqueak of a kitten, maybe 3 to 4 weeks old, and so tiny he could easily nestle in the palm of a child’s hand. Surely, he must have been the runt of the litter. After a month of posting flyers throughout the neighborhood, no one called to claim him, so this itty bitty feline became the newest member of a wonderful, animal loving family. But Bonzai didn’t remain small for long, growing in size until he resembled Buddha, with a big, lovingly mischievous heart to match.

From day one, he was never afraid of people or dogs. He was a “pouncer”, and from a very early age, loved to hide under the couch, chairs and beds, just waiting for someone to walk by. He would then jump out and pretend to attack their shoe or leg, Even when he was smaller than a shoe, he was absolutely fearless. Once he attacked, he would jump straight up and dash back to where he was hiding. “Fun game”, he must have thought. If you watched him anticipate a surprise attack, he would wiggle his butt from side to side, ready to pounce out of seemingly nowhere, like the Japanese soldiers of World War II shouting their infamous battle cry “bonzai”, (bonz-eye) as they emerged from the bush to attack. And that’s how Bonzai got his name.

The house was, and remained Bonzai’s domain; his personal “Stage Of Performing Arts”, where he can show off his talent and many antics to the captive audience of his household and anyone else that happens to be around. From the getgo, Misty, the family dog, (a Lab, Sharpeii and Sheppard mix) bonded and got along very well with this new feline “intruder”. They slept together, played together and roamed together, with nary a scuffle interrupting their relationship. Then one day, enter Midnight (a Black Lab and Husky mix), the new “kid on the block”. She was quite hyper but intelligent, and had a tendency to be “socially stupid” (like not taking physical clues from other animals, always thinking everyone wanted to play). The day she came home, she ran into the house like a tornado, from room to room. Unannounced to Bonzai, sleeping peacefully on a rug in the master bedroom, she raced smack into him with a startling impact. And with all his weight, Bonzai was able to jump up and chase after Midnight, pinning her in a corner of the bathroom, where poor Midnight, who only wanted to be friendly, let loose all her bodily functions. Except for a possible twinge of shame, she was not physically hurt. After that, it was decided they would be better off separated, and have been kept so ever since. Bonzai has the run of the master bedroom during the day. Then at night, there is a “changing of the guard”, when Midnight takes over the master bedroom and Bonzai has the run of the rest of the house. Bonzai, to this day, is not afraid of Midnight, but she is very leery of him, respecting his turf and keeping her distance as best she can.

Bonzai, you are loved by all who have come to know you. Keep the show going, my friend!

Mel Salvat
Cathedral City, California
For Bonzai, Misty and Midnight, and their human family.