If I had to honor or give credit to someone with this little rant, then I guess the it would be going out to Paynesgray. She wrote something, and I read it and did a little digging.
How could any sane person take off and move and leave their pet behind locked in a closet, for God's sake.
When I read the entry, I had to stop. I couldn't go any farther. I nearly threw up. I'm an unconditional animal lover and animal rights defender. Over the years, if all of you only knew exactly how many kittens and young dogs that I've saved.
Just by working on a milk farm part time, I swear that I managed to place at least 2 hundred kittens over the time span of 8 and a half years. And I'm not kidding. Mom helped out. She worked at an IBM company for years and managed to place many of them into good homes. Thank God.
And someone had the gall to dump 3 young pups, there, too. It was one hellova cold February Sunday morning at around 5 am when I walked into the barn to start feeding the cows when I saw them huddled together, cowering and scared witless. One even had his forepaw broken and couldn't even stand properly.
Mom adopted him, a Boxer/Dane cross breed. It must of cost her at least $900.00 dollars to get that paw fixed back then. I don't even remember how many operations it took, and even then the results were only minimal. The paw never healed properly. She kept CIAOU (that's what she named him), until he died in her arms at home. He was almost 16 years old.
As for the other 2, one was adopted by the trucker that came to collect the milk every 2 days. Our boss kept the last one, a golden Lab, for about a month or so, until he could find a good home for him. His wife was allergic to dogs. Come to think about it, she was allergic to work, too. But that's another story altogether.
As for me, this year, I've been feeding several stray cats, trying to tame them. But the most unusual story, and I swear that this is true, happened last September.
It was a cold, very wet, rainy Saturday at the end of the month. There was a tenant in the building that had gotten the bright idea of buying hamsters for her young kids. the oldest was about 8 years old, at the most at that time, and the youngest just barely 2 and a half. I don't know exactly how many times that those hamsters were let loose in the apartment block, but I myself managed to capture a very specific one at least 4 times.
I later found out that the gray one, the one that had fallen down from the second story, didn't survive it's fall. Why am I not surprised? The tiny little thing was way too young to've been separated from it's mother. You ask how I know? My husband's nephew raised them for years and I often gave him a helping hand at selling them, knowing several pet shop owners here in town.
The pale brown one was drowned 'accidentally'.
Yeah, sure. And I pass my free time swinging from tree to tree.
JEEEZ! And this ain't nothin' compared to the horror stories that I could tell you that I saw during the '98 Ice Storm Tragedy that we were right smack dead in the middle of when it hit!.
Those memories are best left buried in the past. I did what I could, but even I couldn't save all of them, not that we didn't try, though.
As for the last hamster, well on that cold September morning, I'd just come in from taking my mutt, Kayla out. It hadn't been any more than maybe 15 or 20 minutes than she'd started whining at the patio door. At first, I thought that she wanted to take off after the squirrels again, & told her to behave. Usually this works & she settles down, but not this time. She kept on whining and looking at me & back through the glass. I got fed up & went to see if it wasn't one of those cats that I feed.
Lo and behold...it was a hamster. I had to blink because I was damned sure that I wasn't seeing things for what they were. What the hell...?
I put my boots back on and went to get him. He was very wet and almost frozen half to death. I stuck him into my bra (yes you read right) and brought him in. He stayed there for at least 2 hours. I thought for sure that he was a gonner. But, no, the little tike survived. And it took me about 3 months to tame him, he was just that traumatised. Every time that I would go and try to pick him up, either he'd fall onto his back, screaming, or he'd back himself in to corner, then lunge at me, trying to bite my fingers.
It seems that his owner got fed up with the way the he kept getting out of his cage, or so she said, and threw him over the balcony. It's no wonder that he didn't trust anyone.
(This was the cute, furry little bugger that I kept sending back upstairs?!)
Whatever! I REALLY wanted to call my friend that has the SPA here in Granby, but Serge talked me out of it.
So, I stuck him into a plastic pail, took my hubby to work, then went to the pet shop. It cost me about a hundred and fifty bucks, but it was worth it. Not one, but two cages, food and shavings and cotton batten balls (bought at the local drug store) to last me for about 6 months. Now, when his cage needs to be cleaned and I don't have the time right off the bat, I just make up the other cage for him and clean the dirty one out after work. Or at the very latest, the next evening, depending on how my day went.
AND...I toilet-trained him!
Yup! I went and bought him a tiny plastic corner litter box. I just clean it out like I do with my cat's box and put their sandy litter into it. He LOVES the stuff. You should see him scratch around in it. What a character!
Oh! I forgot to tell you. His name is Lucky. My hubby named him, and he really is a lucky little bugger. Not to mention a REAL PEST at night. I forgot to mention that just about all hamsters are nocturnal, although Lucky likes to be picked up & cuddled (now) in the morning. We stick him into his own wheely ball type of thing so he can get some exercise.
And you should see him teasing the cats. It's quite a laugh.
And you know something? For this Houdini Hamster that kept supposedly getting out of his cage, he hasn't escaped yet.
Maybe it's because I know how to close a cage door?
Anywhoos. I guess that I've ranted myself out, but it still pisses me off how some people treat their animal companions.
So, if any of you have furry friends that you love and take care of, give them all a kiss and a great big hug for me. Tell 'em that they're the real lucky ones, and show them exactly just how much you all care & love them.
I've seen enough animals hurt and in pain to last me for the rest of my life. Please take the time to show them that you care.
I'll luv ya & Leave Ya on this.
JA NE
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