The Frugivore Diet

For the animals and all of us !

2013-12-01T17:43:22.000Z

Hi fruity people !

Sorry for my English. A french translation is following after this

This is a petition to change the law in France about the legal status of the animal. To recognize them as living and sensitive being instead of the same categorie as furnitures... This is the website to sign :

http://www.30millionsdamis.fr/agir-pour-les-animaux/petitions/signer-petition/pour-un-nouveau-statut-juridique-de-lanimal-22.html?utm_source=EM&utm_medium=EM-Nsign&utm_campaign=Petition?confirm=1

Please help and share this. Maybe somebody could write it in a better English and invite all the 30 bananas members on the front page to sign.

Thank you so much !

Aime

Bonjour à tous,

Voici une pétition que je viens de signer sur le site de la Fondation pour la protection et la défenses des animaux www.30millionsdamis.fr

afin que les animaux acquiert un nouveau statut juridique et soient reconnus comme des êtres vivants et sensibles et ne soient plus considérés comme biens (ex: des meubles...)

Merci de la signer et de faire partager pour tous les animaux de la terre et pour nous tous.

http://www.30millionsdamis.fr/agir-pour-les-animaux/petitions/signer-petition/pour-un-nouveau-statut-juridique-de-lanimal-22.html?utm_source=EM&utm_medium=EM-Nsign&utm_campaign=Petition?confirm=1

Aime

Such an uplifting video

2011-10-10T14:42:32.000Z

I hope everyone who sees this video will consider adopting. I thought it was so well done! Enjoy.http://www.youtube.com/spcawake

Comical Animals

2011-01-08T21:53:02.000Z

Hey everyone,

If you have any humorous tails to tell, favorite comics, or funny pics of your pets, please share them with us. I will get you started:

Hanging out with non vegan friends:

News Years Weight Loss Resolutions from Mutts:

My personal stowaway:

In Peace, PK

Wild things you have done for your pets??!!

2010-07-13T17:52:34.000Z

My dog was diagnosed with cancer a couple of months ago. Due to moving and other things we were really short on money. My mom thought it would be best to put my dog to sleep and my boyfriend did also.

I ended up selling all of the appliances in the kitchen to pay for surgery. I also told my story on craigslist and got 2 appliances- refrig and stove for free. The dishwasher I paid 20.00 for. My boyfriend was forced to eat salads and fruit for a month.

Abbey has healed and her tests came back normal that it hadnt metasticized to her lungs etc.

I met some great people here and started working for one guy as well whos dog had also died of cancer.

There are so many amazing benefits from doing the right thing.. have a wonderful animal loving day! =)

The Way of the Rabbit

2010-05-13T22:25:07.000Z

Poppy is a beautiful silver rabbit whom we got from the SPCA as a companion to Gaw the philosophical guinea pig. So first let me tell you about Gaw even though this is not his story.

Gaw was originally named Pansy for some completely inexplicable reason. We took him in because the people he was staying with couldn't keep pets. We couldn't either, but when I explained to our landlords that my son was so desperate to have a little friend that he was playing with and even naming the woodbugs, they relented. Gaw had a very sagacious look even when he purred. It was the look of a wise being.

Once in our own house, therefore, Poppy at the impressionable young age of 8 months, met Gaw and was no doubt taken with him. Gaw taught him the lessons of life and leadership and eating each day, though Poppy would play hooky once in a while by jumping up onto a chair and hiding from Gaw - or possibly that was the location he'd been instructed to do his meditations in ... these things are hard to know.

And when Gaw felt that Poppy had learned all that was needed, he decided to depart his guinea pig form and go on to other things, but again in his own style - Gaw died in front of Poppy, my son and myself, happily eating away in his 8th year of life.

Poppy was about 4 years old now and we went to the SPCA to find him a companion. Going into SPCA's is generally a painful experience - there are so many who yearn for a caring home, yet so few will ever know one. However, these rabbits were setup in luxury! Housed in large cages, they enjoyed a multilevel suite with all the amenities a rabbit could likely wish for. In fact, I rather doubt any of them wished to leave.

We brought back a very friendly fellow named Buster, a fairly large brown and white individual who had been treated for sinus problems. He got along wonderfully with Poppy for a few months and then died rather suddenly due to a common rabbit problem called middle ear infection. It was touching to see Poppy prod and lick the dead body of his companion trying to get some movement out of him. Rarely have I seen such diligence and caring given to a friend who is no more.

We went back to the SPCA to try again. The worker this time chose a very timid fellow who had been born there and just didn't want to leave. He was nevertheless taken since we humans have this habit of knowing what's best for everyone. His name was Martin and Poppy took as good care of him as he had done with Buster. Martin became Martoon and was eventually shortened to Toony.

Then we learned that we had a chance to bring Toony's mother, Pebbles, home as well. The intent was excellent, but like Toony, Pebbles had no wish to leave. Why should she? She'd lived at the SPCA for two years. It was her home. She too had been treated for a sinus problem, so we were a bit concerned, but we were enticed by the notion that two years was a long time to be without a home (even when you had one) and that the mother and son reunion would be a joyous one.

Well it wasn't. Neither Pebbles nor Toony had the slightest interest in each other and the former was even more timid than her son. Poppy did his best to make her feel at home, but she wasn't happy to be in the company of other rabbits.

My son, Kyron's music teacher, Iris at this time was breeding rabbits. Well, she really wasn't breeding them, but they were breeding at her place because she kept feeding them. Soon the population had grown to around 50 and they were wandering all over her property. Some of them weren't given a fair start in life and died early, but there were two we know of who beat the odds.

The first was Simon. He was a small rabbit who had to be taken in and cared for by Iris because he had serious health issues when he was very young. However, through her efforts he became stronger and it became possible to release him. Of course, he hung around with all the others as an ordinary member of the pack. Simon, though wasn't an ordinary rabbit. Despite the slow start he'd been granted, he had a sense of responsibility and eventually became the lead rabbit that all the others followed through the bluejay quarrels, the otter attack (which claimed the life of more than one rabbit), as well as the counter-attack on the feral cats which kept these away. It was a true 'underdog' story if there ever was one! Being the leader does not come without a price though and Simon died at the usual age of 5 which is fairly common for top rabbits. After Simon, Iris stopped the feeding and the rabbits gradually dispersed.

The other rabbit was a small white runt that was continually picked on by the bigger creatures. Iris not only felt sad for him, but thought he was likely in danger so she asked if Kyron could take him home. This little fellow's body was just a bit longer than his ears and so, primarily for that distinction he was named Yoda. He was put in a box in the bathroom with Pebbles initially just so that the two male rabbits didn't go after him and things went admirably the first day.

On the second day, we heard a great commotion in the bathroom. Yoda had gotten out of the box and Pebbles was chasing him all over the place. Fortunately, he was considerably faster so she never caught him.

Gradually all four rabbits were brought together and Poppy maintained an appropriate level of justice. While Yoda was small he protected him from Pebbles. When he got large enough to take care of himself he let them be. And when Yoda reversed the tables and started going after Pebbles, Poppy brought him back into line. He always tried his best to make Pebbles part of the group and succeeded to some extent, but we now feel it would have been much better to not have moved her from her place at the SPCA.

One day we returned home to find Pebbles dead apparently from the same middle ear infection that had killed Buster. It is curious that both had similar sinus issues, both had been treated by the same vet and both had died suddenly.

So now there were three and this is where our story really starts.

Poppy had already gained the respect of the other two and kept them nicely in line. Doing so required only a little effort since everyone was quite good-natured. Still, it didn't hurt to assert one's authority from time to time by chasing the other two around the room, which Poppy dutifully did.

Toony's reaction to this routine was expectedly submissive. He was for law and order so he went along and played timid. Yoda wasn't quite sure what to do though because he wasn't sure what a hierarchial structure really meant - in fact, we've never been sure whether he understood the concept of a structure in the first place. So while he would run away from a charging Poppy, it was unclear to everyone including himself as to why he was doing so or where he was running to. While he accepted Poppy as the leader, the deference was rather moot since he didn't seem to have a clue what a leader was. As far as Poppy was concerned though, it didn't matter.

While Poppy had established himself as the ruler and Yoda had taken on the role of court jester, Toony proved to be the intellectual of the group and chief advisor to King Poppy. In preparation for this role, he'd allowed Poppy to trim his whiskers, something that Yoda either didn't permit or meet the requirements for filling the position.

When not being timid, Toony appeared very calm and thoughtful. He especially liked to play that game with empty toilet paper rolls which the others never seemed to see the point of. The idea was to put a roll upright and Toony would snatch and toss it. You'd have to set it up again and he'd go through the process once more. He'd also take it from your hand if you held one to him, but it is likely he preferred the original to the variation. We still haven't figured out what the purpose of this game is, but one only need to take a look at human games which involve grown people chasing after a ball or throwing things and one may be just as puzzled.

Yoda entertained himself in a different fashion. He would hop into our bed which is on the floor enclosed by planks of wood designed to keep the rabbits out. However, just as Yoda didn't have the concept of 'leader' clarified in his mind, he didn't seem to appreciate that he wasn't supposed to breach the barrier. He liked going into the bed partly to escape the other two and partly because it was fun in there - blankets and sheets to push around and chew up.

One game he liked to play was to attack the bed sheet when it was waved in front of him. He'd really get quite energetic about it and growl as he swiped it with his front paws. The other thing he rather enjoyed was to hop all over me during the early hours of the morning just about when I was in a state of not wanting to wake up. He particularly liked to find the highest point of elevation when I was lying on my side and stand on his hind legs to peer over the barricade. Then he'd run all over the bed again and return repeatedly to that position. Amazingly he never ran over Oooochiiii the cat who slept near my head or use my face as a launching pad.

At some point in their existence, Poppy decided they should assist in our day-to-day affairs. We have several computers networked together and that seemed to him like an ideal opportunity to show what an effective and helpful threesome his crew was. Networked computers have all these wires running from each other and can look rather untidy. No doubt this was the issue in Poppy's mind, he and his charges being such a clean set of individuals.

The rabbits were accustomed to coming into the computer room from the adjoining bedroom, so their presence wasn't anything new. So it was much to our surprise when we started noting that we couldn't connect to the internet or access one another's computers one fine day. Now you must understand that this really was a surprise to us since being Unix users we don't enjoy the multiple delights the Windoze operating system offers such as its celebrated blue screen of death. Therefore, unlike the typical and unfortunate windoze user, we don't experience issues - our systems run flawlessly!

Well we checked the network config files. We checked the physical connection to the ethernet cards. Out of desperation, we even did the windoze rebooting ritual! No luck! We were perplexed and finally decided to examine the cables connecting the various computers. The cables were there alright except there seemed to be more of them. Our helpful rabbits had chewed them into various pieces!

Our rabbits go out during the warmer weather to an enclosed space near the compost and spend a couple of hours there playing with the cats and guarded by our dogs. Their activities range from eating to digging burrows to chasing each other to just laying around.

The protocol for these outings is very rigorous. Poppy is the first to be carried down the stairs and put into the area. While he's checking out the terrain, Toony is brought down. Just at the bottom of the stairs, Toony, unfailingly starts to wiggle and flail about. As soon as, Kyron's feet touch the ground though, he's completely calm. Finally, Yoda is brought to the place and proceeds to seek out the other two, Poppy acknowledging his presence and Toony running from it. Sometimes the chase becomes so intense that no one knew who was running from whom and all three of them would take off madly in all directions. When it is time to go back inside, the order of return was reversed: first Yoda, then Toony (no wiggling going back), and finally Poppy.

Once Poppy actually got through the narrow fencing beyond the enclosure. We all, dogs included, rushed to get him back in a panic. Poppy clearly had no intention of running off though. He hopped around a little as if to show everyone they really had no chance of catching him and then squeezed his way back through the same opening and started munching on grass while we looked at each other in relief.

Yoda disappeared too. We searched all over and under since the rabbits had made a burrow beneath the compost. We even hosed that area since it was the only way to literally flush them out when it was time to go inside. No Yoda. We waited and kept looking. For one hour, then two, then three to no avail. After dinner we tried again, but still no sign. I went up to the second floor to survey the backyard hoping that this high vantage point might reveal some insight. It did, but unexpectedly. Instead of spotting a white furball hopping about the yard, what I saw was Yoda emerging from under the compost. We rushed over in relief and he just looked at us with the what-is-the-big-deal expression. It seems he had found a home away from home and was somewhat reluctant to leave it on our time.

The years went by and our rabbits enjoyed each others company as we enjoyed theirs. Of course, the other characters were in the picture too. Oooochiiii the cat who slept at my head had plenty of occasion to experience Yoda's frolicking in our bed. Bin Bon cat wasn't regarded as civilized by our rabbits in his younger days because of his unwieldy pawing and was generally ignored, though as he matured his behavior changed and the rabbits started tolerating him. The Oh-Oh cats Opi and Obi got along famously with them the latter being particularly fond of Yoda, while the former was fond of everyone. Opi could be seen on many occasions grasping either Martoon's or Poppy's head in her paws and licking the same gently (she actually does that with my head too). And while he was with us, the Soleil the rooster stayed with the rabbits sharing their meals and companionship.

After Soleil died, a strange development started between Poppy and Yoda as the latter started to rebel. It is difficult to say what the mechanics were, but when Poppy would try to bring Yoda into line, Yoda would fight back. Eventually, we had to keep the two separated. Yoda had been neutered years before, so we were surprised this was happening both indoors and out.

One day Yoda did escape from the outdoor rabbit space and though we saw occasional bits of his fur over the weeks both in our yard and during our walks, we still haven't been able to lure him back or catch sight of him. We are still waiting for the return of the Jedi, though we figure he is busy creating his own empire amongst the wild rabbits outside which is after all where his origins lie.

Several months later, Martoon who had reached the age of about 9 years, passed away. Again, Poppy attended to the body just as he had done with Buster. Martoon left with the unpresumptuousness with which he'd lived his life - never demanding, always cooperating.

Though his longtime friends were gone, Poppy was not alone and moved into the next part of his life with the same dignity and grace he had learned from Gaw and had always shown. We were unsure as to whether to bring another rabbit into the picture since we know Poppy likes to manage things, but chose not to because we felt that Poppy may prefer not to bear that burden after all these years. Instead, we spent more time with him as did Opi in particular.

Poppy took it all in stride as the wise rabbit he was. He'd spend the nights in his bedroom domain, but during the day he'd take up residence under the piano from where he could survey the goings on of the household. Opi, of course was his closest companion, but Bin Bon had grown to respect him and the two occasionally hung out together as well. Even the rambunctious Jumpr dog maintained decorum around him.

Poppy's already robust health seemed to improve in these new surroundings. He was active, explorative and energetic showing no signs of slowing down though being more than a decade old. We thought of him as our very own ever-ready bunny.

As the weather warmed, he'd go out to the rabbit area to eat grass and run around quite often with Opi mutually chasing and being chased.

Every afternoon, I'd share some apple with him as he sat under the piano. This was followed by a pear. Then we'd enjoy some goji berries which he liked to take from my hand one by one. During our dinner, Kyron would sit by him while giving him his own dinner that was the precursor to the main nighttime meal which took place usually around 2am in the morning.

Last night, he came charging out from under the piano right into the kitchen because he knew Kyron was getting a bit of raisin bread for him, a treat he occasionally relished. This appetizer was obligatorily followed by the usual 2 almonds, before the inevitable meal of greens and veggies after which it was time to settle down to await the arrival of a new day.

This morning after waking up, I went to pet him as I do each morning, to find him lying lifeless. It appeared he had died only a couple of hours before, quite suddenly, though looking into his eyes and the relaxed postion of his body, it appeared to be a peaceful exodus. Quite possibly, he had been eating at the time, just as his guru had done years before. Perhaps the ever-ready batteries had finally run out.

It is difficult to say though. Richard Bach wrote:
"Here is a test to find whether your mission on Earth is finished: If you're alive, it isn't."

Poppy had lived with not just zeal, but with responsibility, awareness and self-discipline. He had taken the teachings of Gaw and had applied them to nurture the existence of many beings from members of his own species to cats, dogs, birds and humans. He had shared his composure and resoluteness with everyone, reminding us that what is always important in life is not so much to just live, but to live one's purpose ... what the Hindus say is our dharma.

As such, I think Poppy chose to depart because his mission as a rabbit was indeed over. He had honored his dharma with the highest integrity. May we do no less.

in friendship,
prad

The Oh-Ohs

2009-11-20T08:03:28.000Z

I was reluctant to have the Oh-Oh's live here.

It wasn't that I didn't like cats, but we already had two.

Our first cat Chuchu better known as Oooochiii had recently died. She had found us more than 8 years ago and was a gentle, uncomplaining soul who had unfortunately lost the ability to use her hind legs. I remember the first day she showed up having miraculously evaded our dogs and sat looking up hopefully at my young son. Her back legs moved with awkwardness at that time and she had recently given birth (who knows how many times). Gradually, the condition worsened, but not her spirit.

She had to be carried to most places, but could walk on her front legs when the back portion of her body was supported in a cloth loop. When she moved, everyone dogs, cats and people got out of her way. She kept an inquisitive watch over everyone who came within her proximity. She used to sleep by my head which is where she passed away one night at the age of more than 14 years. I just woke up to notice a slight fidgeting and she left. I guess it was her saying good-bye.

Carbon the BinBon was a black-and-white stray cat one of our friends found trying to get into her house. He was a very large and powerful cat with the courage of a mouse. The people at the SPCA who'd taken him in said he was a bit bossy, but that was really an illusion. What BinBon liked to do was stir up trouble and then run like the blazes. He and Oooochiii got along fine, but it was with the dogs Riky and Jumpr that BinBon found his place. In fact, I believe he thinks he's really a dog and not a cat. He recognized Riky as top dog and so sucks up to him, but Jumpr he likes to push around despite being a fraction of the size ... that is when he's not being trampled by Jumpr's enthusiatic charges as most in this house are.

Grizu had been left at a dumpster with a plate of catfood. He was confused and frightened, but came to us with plaintive meows when we'd arrived to drop off some stuff. He is one of those very vocal cats who you think was actually talking to you - everything involving him generates a meow of some sort. You could pet him and there would follow a series of meows. You could pick him up and there would be more meows. Try putting on his leash (all our cats go out on leashes) and more meows. It has never been clear as to whether these meows were complaints or otherwise, but they invariably sound forth like endless inextinguishable flames which I suppose is appropriate, since he was named, by our friend Michael, after the little dragon whose human father, being a fireman, kept trying to convince him to control his urges.

BinBon enjoyed tormenting Grizu by sneaking up on him whenever and wherever he could. Grizu always reacted with horrified meows followed by vicious hisses. This would bring top dog Riky into action to break up the squabble by barking loudly and the rest of the household would show up to investigate the commotion, only to find that BinBon was nowhere in sight. Of course not! He'd launched his attack, gotten Grizu and everyone else to react, and could congratulate himself on a job well done, while hiding somewhere in the sidelines. After a while though, Grizu figured out what was going on and launched his counter-attacks which would cause Riky to bark even more and bring the rest of us to the scene faster and in greater numbers. While the counter-attacks were a major shock to BinBon initially, he soon realized that these made things even more fun because there was far greater commotion!

So after Oooochiii left us, we had these two cats keeping everyone occupied and the thought of any other additions to the family seemed to me to be out of the question. The problem is that no one ever asks me any questions.

Ranjana and Kyron have the same music teacher Iris. One day they were surprised at their lesson to see two little kittens in the waiting room. One was a long-haired black and white kitten about 3 weeks old, and the other was an orange kitten about half that age. The first had been destined to go to a petshop, but Iris intervened and took her in. The second had been found on Iris' property, nearly dead under a bush. His mother, a feral cat, had somehow been prevented from returning to her child and was thought to have been killed by a raccoon.

As the music lessons continued, the kittens grew in size along with Ranjana's desire to bring them to our house. Kyron wasn't so sure and didn't let the 'cuteness' affect him. His concern was how would the interaction go with the other members of the family. My concern was the same and I felt that this was hardly an emergency because it wasn't as though the kittens needed immediate rescue. Ranjana though, was convinced the kittens wanted to go home with her because they'd had a great time in the waiting room and meowed at the door when it was time to leave.

Iris, who is allergic to cats, really wanted to give them to a good home and appealed to her students, but no one was willing to take both. Iris refused to seperate them because the two of them were like sister and brother, the older one teaching and looking after the younger. We suggested that she feed them a properly supplemented vegetarian diet, since Kyron also reacted badly to cats who were fed the usual meat-based stuff, but found no problems at all with our veg cats. Iris was quite willing, but her husband had it stuck in his head that cats have to eat meat and refused. Unfortunately, it meant that the cats were kept in the small waiting room for most of the day and when Iris did let them out briefly elsewhere, she'd be the one to suffer.

Now, none of us liked the fact that these two were kept in that little room and every week when it was time to leave, the younger one, in particular, would call out to Ranjana and Kyron from behind the waiting room door. So one day, it was decided! They were to come here!

Ranjana and Kyron went over to a very happy Iris (she'd really been hoping we'd take them) and put the two in a box. When I helped them out of the car, I noticed that the elder was very intently looking around trying to absorb the situation, while the younger stayed as out of sight as possible inside the box. The two were taken up into a bedroom right away so we could gradually introduce them to the rest of their new family.

In a new setting it is generally a good idea not to introduce food till everyone acclimatizes a bit first, so we gave them a bit of time to look around the room. However, they seemed so comfortable that we thought we'd see whether they were interested in eating, but first, we had to go through the naming process.

It used to be when Kyron was 12 years or less, he'd offer the names, but he soon realized that no one calls anyone by name in this house so what's the point? He left the job up to his mother who seemed to take a special delight in such things. The logic she employs to come up with the names is completely beyond me (after all how many cats are named after the sixth element of Mendeleev's periodic table?), so I was not surprised when she chose Oberon for the orange baby and Ophelia for his black and white companion. She claimed that he looked a bit kingly (which he didn't at all - and the fairy king was a bit of an immature dude anyway) and the other 'just felt right' even though she acknowledged the unfortunate ending the cat's namesake came to in the Shakespearean play.

I wasn't going to argue though and made the most of the situation by shortening the complexity. Oberon became Obi, and Ophelia was, quite logically, Opi. Ranjana however, had to mangle the simplicity by doing the Obi-Wan Kanobi Star Wars routine (whatever happened to Shakespeare?) and instead of appreciating the obvious symmetry of Opi to Obi, she insisted in calling the poor confused kitten Ophi. In any case, they had been named and as a combination became known as the Oh-Ohs ... and with good reason as you will see.

Now that they'd been named and all was well, it was time to try eating. The kittens had been fed the usual commercial cat kibbles that have who knows what in them, but since cats can become very 'attached' to a particular food, we were a bit apprehensive as to how they'd take to our homemade vegetarian creation. All three of the other cats had been used to eating vegetarian Evolution kibbles (moistened with purified water) for years, but when we switched them to the homemade creations (supplemented with Harbingers of a New Age), they much preferred it, so we were hopeful this transition would go smoothly.

Instead, it went ravenously!

Opi and Obi went at the food as though they hadn't eaten in days! They kept eating and eating ... two, three, four helpings and finally there was a pause. When we told Iris about this, she was astonished because they ate quite minimally at her place. The increased culinery gusto was most likely due to the fact that fresh food always tastes better, particularly vegetarian. After this massive meal, we thought it best to let them have a much deserved nap and so we left the room.

The nap didn't last too long though since the Oh-Ohs were soon ready get on with life and started scratching at the door. It was Opi who wanted out, while Obi was quite happy to stay put until his 'sister' had evaluated the situation.

So, Opi was carefully introduced to Grizu first since she spotted him nearby. We were a bit concerned because Grizu was prone to hysterics, but the meeting went quite well from a mutually respected distance. Now it was time for the BinBon cat to find out who the newcomer was and Opi was brought before him. Possibly daunted by his remarkable size, she hissed at him. He, however, was quite good-natured about the whole thing, no doubt wondering what this little fuzzball a quarter of his size was getting all excited about.

Then the dogs had to get in on the act. Riky, being the more mature and understanding, kept his distance, but Jumpr of course, charged in with his usual exuberance and had to be restrained. Well so much for initial introductions.

We took Opi back to her room only to find Obi lying comfortably on the bed and a messy, smelly deposit on the floor. It was quite soft and we were wondering if the food hadn't gone well with him, but found out later from Iris that his stools had always been like that and he didn't always use the tray (possibly because he had no mother around to teach him). Apparently, he had a digestive issue and had been dewormed by the vet. Our feeling was that a sensible vegetarian diet would likely be of greater benefit than traditional vet interference. Over time it has proven to be so. Not only have his stools firmed up generally, but his control and skill at using the litter tray became equal to any of the cats.

The Oh-Ohs were kept in the room at night, but were gradually introduced to the rest of the household. The get togethers with the rabbits and Soleil, the rooster we had found wandering on the street, were particularly entertaining. Obi was always the cautious one, letting Opi do the initiations. Opi on the otherhand, is the most adaptable being I have ever encountered. When she's with the dogs, she is a dog; with the rabbits, she becomes accepted as a rabbit; even Soleil took to her as a fellow companion chicken! So one scene that was quite frequent at night was to have the 3 rabbits gathered around for their evening meal with Soleil pecking at his share (occasionally pecking at the rabbits, just for the fun of it), Obi looking on nearby, and Opi spawled in the middle of the greens and veggies!

Somehow, Opi's customary maneuver is related to sprawling. I once saw her approach Carbon, who took some friendly swipes at her and she fell down right in front of him. Once in a while, she'd get up on the cats' 3 level playground and fall from there. Twice we've heard a thud, only to find that Opi fell from the upper level railings of the stairs (a fall of about 10 feet) onto either the hard tiles or into the pot holding our Norfolk pine tree. Exactly why falling is such fun for her is unclear, but she certainly seems to enjoy doing so - maybe it's a bit like flying.

Obi's trademark though is to hide. He is, in fact, very good at it - so much so, that on many occasions he had us worried he'd escaped from the house. The worst such incident occurred when we had a wood-pellet stove installed and Obi decided he didn't want to take any chances with the installers. About half-way during their efforts, it was suddenly noticed that all the cats were accounted for except for Obi. One of the installers said he saw a small cat on our porch so we naturally thought it was Obi and that he'd taken off. We all started turning the place inside out and then went outside, desperately trying to find this little cat, but to no avail. The installers' last words as they left were that they hoped we find him and that he'd probably show-up when it was time to eat. Well he did show up right after they'd left. Exactly where he was hiding and how it was that we couldn't with our best efforts find him is a statement to his skill.

Moths are usually of great interest to cats because they move. The Oh-Oh's had different approaches to these flying creatures that on rare occasions found their way into our home. Obi stared at them intently and would start a peculiar clicking sound with his jaw, much like the chattering of teeth (he does that when watching birds out the window too). I have never seen a cat do something like this. It was obvious he had no intent to try to chase the moth (much less to kill it), but what was he doing? Was it a form of communication or a signal that he was actively involved in observation? Opi, on the otherhand, was interested in at least trying to catch the moth sometimes, though not to kill it. In fact, once she found one in the dog's water bowl and was trying to scoop it out carefully with her paw. She was not successful though, but fortunately, we had become aware of her efforts and managed to rescue and release the object of interest unharmed.

One of the realities that must be faced when there are cats around is that it becomes necessary to give up the usual seating arrangements. Cats have a way of finding their way to one's favorite armchairs and making themselves at home there. So just when you feel the urge to sit down with a good book in your favorite region of the family library, you find you can't because a cat is in contemplation, occupying what used to be your spot! Of course, it would be rude to move the cat, so you just have to let it go.

However, when one has an understanding with a particular cat, one finds that sharing is quite possible. For instance, Obi having adopted me as the 'favorite person' and regularly making full use of any beard stubble to rub his face upon, will often position himself on one side of the armchair, allowing me to squeeze in. Together we will go about our business, I reading, he sleeping. The arrangement is quite equitable. Opi, on the otherhand, likes Ranjana's chair. Sometimes she plops herself down in the middle so nothing can be done, but most times she prefers to go under it to fall asleep. Ranjana has to be careful not to step on the tail that protudes from under the chair, but is at liberty to sit normally otherwise.

Both the Oh-Ohs like to use their teeth for things other than eating. This is likely a natural action for growing cats (as it is for dogs) and chewing on things seems to be an enjoyable activity at this age. The problem unique to the Oh-Ohs though is what they chew.

We take our cats out on leashes because we don't want them to take off (I've seen too many dead cats on the road), nor do we want them to terrorize the local fauna population (a talent they might develop if allowed to roam). So their leashes are hooked up to long (30 meter) cords which serve as a cat run. They thoroughly enjoy this activity, chasing and playing with each other within this restriction. The popular misconception that cats don't like leashes is just not true.

In fact, Opi loves leashes - far too much. After a few months, she decided that leashes were things to be relished, particularly the plastic clips of the harness. So whenever she got the chance she'd get into the closet where the leashes are hanging and start chewing on the clips, not only of her own leash, but of all of them. By the time we discovered her activity, all the clips bore teeth marks and some of them ceased to function optimally. They are still usable, but Opi has been labelled a menace around closets.

Obi, on the otherhand, likes to chew on people, especially at night. Obi generally sleeps beside me, but before falling asleep he enjoys being petted. The arm that pets him becomes an object of such affection that he feels he must grab it with both front paws and start chewing upon it. Sometimes, he'll employ the same devotion to the top of one's head. Some cats know their own strength and some don't. Fortunately for us, Obi is one of the former, so beyond a few scratches these interludes don't result in any serious injuries, though one nearly resorts to prayer during them.

Something we could never figure out is the envy between the cats and the dogs as to food and water. The dogs, particularly Jumpr, loves to steal the cats' food whenever he can. Even when we give them all the same food as an experiment, he'll avoid the contents of his own dish and relish that of the cats. Riky loves to drink water out of the small container for the cats. The feline company is not begrudging at all. They tried to get at the dog food to the point where we had to put the large bowls outside. Also, for some inexplicable reason, the cats will not drink out of their own waterbowls, preferring the rather large, and in my eyes, awkward ones, which are for the dogs.

After being here nearly a whole year, the Oh-Ohs have carved their niches into the household (in more ways than one). Opi has gone from Ms Congeniality to She-Who-Must-Be-Obeyed, chasing after the 3 male cats whenever she pleases. Obi gets mauled regularly, Grizu runs for cover desperately, and the much larger Carbon gets wrestled to the ground frequently! She is, however, considered a delight by both the dogs and the rabbits. She sleeps every night by my feet just the way Oooochiii used to sleep by my head.

Obi on the otherhand, has not only become MrSnugglebug (though at night he hangs out with the BinBon), he uses the stubble on my face to give himself facerubs whenever I'm working on the computer. I don't get to do much on the computer these days because after the facerub, he generally insists on having a nap on the keyboard.

You can, therefore, no doubt understand why it is particularly difficult to write further about them ...

[Editor's note: this story was taken from our towards freedom site blooks. our 4 cats keep all of us busy!]

Rare parrot video-hilarious!

2009-10-05T11:45:04.000Z

Check out this video: http://www.mirror.co.uk/news/top-stories/2009/09/30/video-stephen-fry-s-photographer-gets-humped-by-a-rare-parrot-115875-21712427/

A love affair :)

2009-08-28T15:06:11.000Z

I a love affair -with a horse from Iceland.His name was krabi (Oh that doesnt sound too good in english!!) . He was such a beautiful spirit. Together we were like one. I remember a little girl told me "you look like your horse". Normally that would not be a compliment ;);) But I knew it was:).It felt like I didnt even had to give him instructions on what to do -he kind of knew. Well, there was a couple of times when he decided it was a great idea to run as fast as he could in any given direction and I didnt quite agree....but well, its a give and take , right ;);)I loved his movements -there was just nothing like it. He had a very royal aura about him, always lifting his legs high even when he didnt need to.He was fast -really fast, and riding him through the forest was like flying, he just knew how to move around the trees withtout having to slow down, and we were in perfect balance.I always cry when I think about him. He died some years ago. I really miss him. I have been riding a horse once since, and I dont really feel like riding ever again actually.I hope to meet him again in some way or form -he meant (means) so much to me.Its strange. Because he was "just a horse" -but then again...why do I tearing up writing this??Well, maybe its because an animal really can be a friend, and there can be a very real connection!!

escapegoats!

2009-08-13T15:52:33.000Z

that's right! not scapegoats, but escape goats isadora and duncan.in friendship,prad

A loving pigeon....

2009-08-11T01:44:42.000Z

Sweeet.....These little bunnies, about 6 days old, were attacked by a dog and orphaned.Two out of the litter of five did not survive, and these three were not doing very well.Noah is a non-releasable, one-legged homing pigeon that we have here in rehab. Noah kept going over to the bunny cage and looking in...even sleeping in front of the door to the cage.Then, 2 days ago, I only counted 2 bunnies in the cage, so I hurriedly picked Noah up from the front of the cage so I could look inside. And to my surprise...there was the tiny bunny...under Noah's wing...sound asleep! The bunny had crawled through the cage....preferring a featherbed, no doubt.Now, they are all together, and the bunnies are doing GREAT. When the bunnies scoot underneath Noah's feathers, he extends his wings out to surround them..and they snuggle. When one of them moves and they start sticking out here and there, he gently pushes them back under him with his beak!!!!!This is amazing!!!'He will cover you with His feathers,And under His wings you will find refuge.'(Psalm 91:4)

loving pigeon.jpg

Loving pigeon 2.jpg

you have chosen tears

2009-08-01T07:24:41.000Z

this is a rather morose title for what is a pretty good story told with considerable creativity as well as a cleverly placed acronym! while i have some doubts about the logic employed by the 'Angel' and the desires of the 'Loving Ones', one really can't argue that the 2 main characters the 'Kind Lady' and 'Orange Boy' are wonderfully genuine.though the story may appear somewhat speciesist and anthropocentric in nature, one only has to remember that the aspirations of a pet are no different than those of a chicken, a cow, a pig or any of the billions of unfortunate animals who are denied their gift of life, because certain individuals have decided that these creatures are not entitled to the same kindness that their 'precious' will receive and are to be imprisoned, abused, exploited and eventually murdered.so as you read the story, remember that 'Orange Boy' really speaks for all sentient beings (regardless of what the writer intended).in friendship,prad========You Have Chosen TearsThe little orange boy stopped. Behind him, kitties were playing, chasing each other and wrestling in the warm sunshine. It looked like so much fun, but in front of him, through the clear stillness of the pond's water, he could see his mommy. And she was crying. He pawed at the water, trying to get at her, and when that didn't work, he jumped into the shallow water. All that got him was wet and Mommy's image danced away in the ripples. "Mommy!" he cried. "Is something wrong?" The little orange boy turned around.A lady was standing at the edge of the pond, her eyes sad but filled with love. The little orange boy sighed and walked out of the water. "There's been a mistake," he said. "I'm not supposed to be here." He looked back at the water. It was starting to still again and his mommy's image was coming back. "I'm just a baby. Mommy said it had to be a mistake. She said I wasn't supposed to come here yet."The kind lady sighed and sat down on the grass. The little orange boy climbed into her lap. It wasn't Mommy's lap, but it was almost as good. When she started to pet him and scratch under his chin like he liked, he started to purr. He hadn't wanted to, but he couldn't help it. "I'm afraid there is no mistake. You are supposed to be here and your mommy knows it deep down in her heart," the lady said. The little orange boy sighed and laid his head on the lady's leg. "But she's so sad. It hurts me to see her cry. And daddy too.""But they knew right from the beginning this would happen.""That I was sick?"That surprised the little orange boy. No one had ever said anything and he had listened when they thought he was sleeping. All he had heard them talk about was how cute he was, or how fast he was or how big he was getting. "No, not that you were sick," the lady said. "But you see, they chose tears.""No, they didn't," the little orange boy argued. Who would choose to cry? The lady gently brushed the top of his head with a kiss. It made him feel safe and loved and warm - but he still worried about his mommy."Let me tell you a story," the lady said. The little orange boy looked up and saw other animals gathering around. Cats - Big Boy and Snowball and Shamus and Abby and little Cleo and Robin. Merlin and Toby and Iggy and Zachary. Sweetie and Kamatte and OBie. Dogs too- Sally and Baby and Morgan and Rocky and Belle. Even a lizard named Clyde and some rats named Saffron and Becky and a hamster named Odo. They all lay down near the kind lady and looked up at her, waiting. She smiled at them and began:A long long time ago, the Loving Ones went to the Angel in Charge. They were lonesome and asked the Angel to help them. The Angel took them to a wall of windows and let them look out the first window at all sorts of things - dolls and stuffed animals and cars and toys and sporting events. "Here are things you can love," the Angel said. "They will keep you from being lonesome.""Oh, thank you," the Loving Ones said. "These are just what we need.""You have chosen Pleasure," the Angel told them.But after a time the Loving Ones came back to the Angel in Charge. "Things are okay to love," they said. "But they don't care that we love them." The Angel in Charge led them over to the second window. It looked out at all sorts of wild animals. "Here are animals to love," he said. "They will know you love them."So the Loving Ones hurried out to care for the wild animals."You have chosen Satisfaction," the Angel said.Some of the Loving Ones worked at zoos and wild animal preserves, some just had bird feeders in their yards, but after a time they all came back to the Angel in Charge. "They know we love them," they told the Angel. "But they don't love us back. We want to be loved in return." So the Angel took them to the third window and showed them lots of people walking around, hurrying places. "Here are people for you to love," the Angel told them.So the Loving Ones hurried off to find other people to love."You have chosen Commitment," the Angel said.But after a time a lot of Loving Ones came back to the Angel in Charge. "People were okay to love," they said. "But sometimes they stopped loving us and left. They broke our hearts."The Angel just shook his head. "I cannot help you," he said. "You will have to be satisfied with the choices I gave you."As the Loving Ones were leaving, someone saw a window off to one side and hurried to look out. Through it, they could see puppies and kittens and dogs and cats and lizards and hamsters and ferrets. The other Loving Ones hurried over. "What about these?" they asked. But the Angel just tried to shoo them away. "Those are Personal Empathy Trainers," he said. "But there's a problem with their system operations.""Would they know that we love them?" someone asked."Yes," the Angel said."Would they love us back?" another asked."Yes," the Angel said."Will they stop loving us?" someone else asked."No," the Angel admitted. "They will love you forever.""Then these are what we want," the Loving Ones said.But the Angel was very upset."You don't understand," he told them. "You will have to feed these animals.""That's all right," the Loving Ones said."You will have to clean up after them and take care of them forever.""We don't care."The Loving Ones did not listen. They went down to where the Pets were and picked them up, seeing the love in their own hearts reflected in the animals' eyes."They were not programmed right," the Angel said. "We can't offer a warranty. We don't know how durable they are. Some of their systems malfunction very quickly, others last a long time." But the Loving Ones did not care. They were holding the warm little bodies and finding their hearts so filled with love that they thought they would burst. "We will take our chances," they said."You do not understand." The Angel tried one more time. "They are so dependent on you that even the most well-made of them is not designed to out live you. You are destined to suffer their loss."The Loving Ones looked at the sweetness in their arms and nodded. "That is how it should be. It is a fair trade for the love they offer."The Angel just watched them all go, shaking his head."You have chosen Tears," he whispered."So it is," the kind lady told the kitties. "And so each mommy and daddy knows. When they take a baby into their heart, they know that one day it will leave them and they will cry."The little orange boy sat up."So why do they take us in?" he asked."Because even a moment of your love is worth years of pain later.""Oh."The little orange boy got off the lady's lap and went back to the edge of the pond. His mommy was still there, and still crying."Will she ever stop crying?" he asked the kind lady.She nodded. "You see, the Angel felt sorry for the Loving Ones, knowing how much they would suffer. He couldn't take the tears away but he made them special."She dipped her hand into the pond and let the water trickle off her fingers."He made them healing tears, formed from the special water here. Each tear holds bits of all the happy times of purring and petting and shared love. And the promise of love once again. As your mommy cries, she is healing. It may take a long while, but the tears will help her feel better. In time she will be less sad and she will smile when she thinks of you. And then she will open her heart again to another little baby.""But then she will cry again one day," the little orange boy said.The lady just smiled at him as she got to her feet. "No, she will love again. That is all she will think about." She picked up Big Boy and Snowball and gave them hugs, then scratched Morgan's ear just how she liked."Look," she said. "The butterflies have come. Shall we go over to play?" The other animals all ran ahead, but the little orange boy wasn't ready to leave his mommy."Will I ever get to be with her again?"The kind lady nodded. "You'll be in the eyes of every kitty she looks at. You'll be in the purr of every cat she pets. And late at night, when she's fast asleep, your spirit will snuggle up close to her and you both will feel at peace. One day soon, you can even send her a rainbow to tell her you're safe and waiting here for when it's her turn to come.""I would like that," the little orange boy said and took one long look at his mommy. He saw her smile slightly through her tears and he knew she had remembered the time he almost fell into the bathtub."I love you, Mommy," he whispered. "It's okay if you cry."He glanced over at the other pets, running and playing and laughing with the butterflies."Uh, Mommy? I gotta go play now, okay? But I'll be around, I promise."Then he turned and raced after the others.Author Unknown

ode to pericles

2009-06-18T01:30:43.000Z

Now, little PericlesWon't you come a bit closer, please?And whisper softly in our earThose sweet phrases we long to hear"Baby", " Hi", and "Where are you?"Surely that's not all you can do!Oh yes, "Hi ho, Hi ho"As you rightly knowIs our very favorite.We listen, we moan, we savour itWhenever you bless us with that tuneSadly we wonder why you stop so soon.But we know your wishes are supremeSo we merely wait until you deemIt fit to begin your song againJoyously we listen and thenYou peck us with a perfunctory kissAs a smokescreen so that we all will missYour devious trip to the plantWhich you desire though knowing you can'tQuite reach its lofty, perilous tipWithout considerable fortitude and hardship.Still you embark on this onerous taskWithout fear. However, of us you askTo leave in peace so that only youOn those green threads, can gleefully chew.As you approach your destinationYou are jolted by a terrible sensation -A large knobby hand grasping at your chestIn a most morbid, miserable, mutinous testOf your patience and your good mannersWhich you maintained, having waved bannersOf friendship to those now blocking your way."Is this how they choose to repayThose countless hours I devoted to them?Do they not realized I am a gem?"You query, thoroughly disgusted, out loudFaced with yet another "disallowed".It seems Round One you have decidedly lost.You feel it was worth whatever the cost.Having accepted some measure of defeatYou flop onto The Shoulder and begin to eatThe fluff that appears on your scruffy collar.You know this is safe, no one will holler.We watch as you tire and puff into a ballClose your eyes, question the meaning of it all.For in the distance you can hear us squealPericles, Pericles, our beloved cockatiel!We notice your every move and featherThinking you dream of beautiful heather.You smile inwardly at us, as youLie busily scheming for Round Two!We shout our delight as you awakenThe deafening roar leaves you visibly shaken.However, you proceed with great dignityTowards the tempting bended kneeOn which you place a little depositThen fly off, wondering why does itBother us so, this act of natureWhich only helps to maintain your stature.When we call you, as we climb upstairsYou promptly mount the head with less hairs.To reach the pinnacle of your successYou pause to obtain another caress.Yes, we are falling right into your trap,Round Two is underway in a snap!As we appear to be dresser boundYou lean towards that mahogany moundShowing us that you truly wishTo walk on that little dish.Strutting carefully, you hide your desireTo jump into the drawer quagmire.Pretending to ignore our actsYou are quickly adding up the factsOf when you might merrilyAttack those hairpins and broaches you see.With lightning speed you flash into the pitIf only you could dapple in itAs freely and heartily as you could choose.Oh no! Not more terrible news!Down swoops that dreaded hand.This time you decide to take a stand.You flap your beak, hiss with blusterAs fiercely as courage could musterSwerve and swoon with tremendous skillContinuing to maneuver untilUnfairly looms yet another handWhich grapples mightily with the commandOf the post you had obtained.Alas, your energy finally waned,You yield, completely, to circumstanceBut, bearing no grudge, you begin to pranceUpon The Shoulder you really love so.All is forgotten as you again are aglowWith curiosity, caring, and compassion.This is the substance we try to fashionOurselves after, learning from youWhile you entertain on a running shoe.We beckon to you, missing you already.Your company, you see, is really a steadySource of immeasurable pleasure to usThat's why, Pericles, we create such a fuss.Your friendly, gentle, beguiling wayHas found a place in our hearts to stay.[editor's note: the above was written many years ago by ranjana about pericles, our first child. if you want to see a pic of both of them go to www.towardsfreedom.com/Irtcles.html and look for Ode to Pericles]

Your animals

2009-06-16T04:18:19.000Z

Animals can really bring joy to your life, they are the companion that you don't have to worry about looking stupid in front of! Why not show a picture or a video of yours?I will once I'm able to

A Snake Called Phatlington

2009-06-13T00:25:49.000Z

In a village where streets were named for trees, former residents that the villagers chose to honour, and some romantic names, there lived a family, father, mother and son who were a little eccentric even for people who chose to live on an island. They really believed that each living thing had a right to its life and merited respect. Their house reflected this belief; a couple of birds, a rabbit, a guinea pig, two dogs and a cat all shared the same rooms. It was truly a multicultural household. Only the parents' bed was off limits to some of the critters - a barricade had to be built to keep the rabbit out because he seemed to like the smell of the wood shaving mattress for his bathroom.The yard reflected the right-to-live attitude of the family. Thistles grew tall, wild flowers flourished, many kinds of grasses and Forbes thrived, as did the insects and other small life forms. The thick damp grass and many insects was very popular with the local population of garter snakes. And this is where our story begins.Although I do not like to begin a story with a tragic event, this is what I have to do, as it seems that a small garter snake had had an accident or some unknown misfortune that severely bruised its body and damaged it right eye. Its plight was discovered by the boy when he noticed his dog, Jumpr, being very very interested in rather feeble movements in the long grass. Knowing Jumpr's habit of handling things, sometime with undue caution, the boy rushed over to check out Jumpr's current interest. And there, rolled into a bundle, the way helpless snakes try to protect themselves, was this injured reptile. No questions asked, it had to be rescued.The snake, later to be named Phatlington, was placed in an aquarium with grass and a light bulb to keep it warm. This was placed in a small room in the basement where the boy did his scientific investigations. Then he went to the Internet to read up on garter snakes, and this was the beginning of a long and very interesting investigation. First he learned that snakes like a bath and swim. So one of his mother's rectangular Pyrex baking dishes became Phatlington's swimming pool. Although there was no way of knowing, it must have been days since Phatlington had had a drink, for when he was first introduced to the swimming pool, he just laid the first four inches of his body along the surface of the water and drank. And how he did drink! You could see his throat working as he swallowed the water. (subsequently, this became his routine when it was time for his swim) After drinking he would slide into the water and just laze about until he was ready to come out, usually five or seven minutes later.As weeks passed the snake seemed to be getting fatter. And this was strange for it did not seem to eat anything each day it was taken outside and let out of the aquarium. In fact it never ventured far from the place it now accepted as its home. Also, each day it liked the boy to handle it. It would weave in and out through his fingers, nestle in the palm of his hand, lay over his wrist to be stroked. And it seemed fatter each day. Then suddenly, he became a she! And this is how it happened.One morning when the boy went down to the basement to tend to the snake he just stood there and looked. Could he believe his eyes? Yes he could and gave a great shout and called his parents to come quickly. They came on the run and all watched Phatlington give birth to four little baby snakes, each four inches long, as big around as a piece of string, and each the perfect image of their mother!The boy and his parents were awestruck and very humble at having the privilege of watching new life being given to the world. Phatlington and her family were happy in the aquarium. And here it must be explained that it is next to impossible for a person who has never studied snakes before to tell a he from a she, and let it be known the snakes do not care. I never did get the names of the little snakes straight, as each day I received reports of their activities and the whole snake family now followed the same routine of time outdoors, swim, etc. as had been set-up for the mother. However tales of the adventures of one of the little guys intrigue me. He was named Explorer because his curiosity was always taking him farther a field than any of the others dared to venture. I guess it reminded me of when I was a boy and always wanted to see what was beyond the brook, or behind the next tree. I also felt a bit sad because I learned in time that if you do not venture now, you may never venture at all. But I digress.As Phatlington's visit stretched into four interest filled months, her family dispersed. She became a little lethargic and her colour dulled and her eyes looked funny. Again the Internet provided the answer. She was ready to shed her skin, a thing all snakes do. Two or three stones were put in the aquarium for her to rub her face on. A snake rubs its face on something hard to loosen the skin around its head, then it just crawls out of its skin. During the shedding period, snakes are very vulnerable and should be left strictly alone. The boy did this and next morning he found Phatlington with brilliant new colours and perfect semi-opaque, snake skin. One could see where the eyes were, the fine scales along the back, the large transverse scales on the belly that are used for locomotion.On another day as fall approached Phatlington seemed to become very sluggish and unwilling to move. Then she became very still indeed. Was she preparing to hibernate? According to the experts on the Internet, it is next to impossible, even with best instruments to tell when a snake is hibernating or dead. There was nothing to do but wait. In a day or so it became apparent that Phatlington's spirit had gone to wherever the spirits of snakes go when they are done with this place. So the boy returned her body to the earth from where she came so her molecules could again enter into the great cycle of life as the building blocks for a seed, or blade of grass, or one of those tall regal thistles. But I like to think she will turn into a flower, blue flax flower that brings a bit of sky into the backyards of those who have the imagination to care.[editors note: this story was written by garth harvey many years ago and appears on the towardsfreedom.com website]

The Pig Dog

2009-06-06T20:42:47.000Z

Jumpr was originally called Gordon Whitefoot by the couple who got him from the SPCA. I guess they either liked Lightfoot's songs or they thought they were being nomenclaturely clever. Unfortunately, they didn't realize that this dog wasn't interested in singing, but in jumping over their 3 foot high fence. No matter how they tried to stop him, he got over it, so after a short while they returned him in frustration.We thought that Riky would enjoy a dog friend, so we headed over to the SPCA and one of the workers, Sandy introduced him to Jumpr thinking the two might get along. They played around for over an hour and Sandy remarked she never thought 2 male dogs would be so amicable. So it was decided and off we all went back home, Jumpr and Riky sandwiching my young son Kyron in the backseat.We were initially very impressed with Jumpr who had obviously gone to dog-school. He didn't pull you around on the leash. When his leash got entangled in his feet, he figured out how to un-entangle it. He was happy playing second fiddle to Riky and there weren't any squabbles once the hierarchy had been established. In fact, we thought Jumpr might even teach Riky some of his elegant manners.What Jumpr taught Riky to do was to jump the fence (and Riky, in compensation, helped Jumpr to forget all sense of decorum).You see, the house we bought has a third of the acre surrounded by a four foot wire fence topped off with a strand of barbed wire. We never figured out why the barbed wire was put there because the fence certainly wasn't high enough to keep deer out. We therefore suspect it was more to keep the previous owners' children in.Now Jumpr's difficulty was that he was a sort of roundish being, likely a husky-shepperd cross. In fact, my son soon started calling him the 'Pig Dog', because he did have a similar profile. He was very strong, to the point where he would easily out-pull Riky in a tug-o-war, but agility wasn't his forté. Three foot fences he could manage, but four foot ones were not to his tastes.On the otherhand, here was an agile friend Riky, sleekly built and powerful! All Jumpr had to do was convince Riky how much fun it would be to get to the otherside of the fence. So one fine day, we go out to call the dogs, and Jumpr comes charging up to us all excited. We, of course, couldn't understand the commotion, but he led us over to the fence. It was then we noticed that Riky was nowhere in the yard. Since Riky had never run away even on leashless walks, we couldn't believe that the impossible had actually taken place. However, after a few loud "Riky's", sure enough our formerly ideal dog, stood at the gate wagging his tail vigorously!We tried to pass off this incident as an anomaly, but a few hours later, there was Jumpr all excited again and Riky was on the otherside of the fence!Ok! Time for defensive action! We spied on the dogs. Their communication was quite revealing. Jumpr would checkout different areas of the fence and Riky would follow him. Then there would be a pause where the two would look at each other with some sort of telepathy and suddenly, up and over went Riky.So our course was clear. Bolster up the dips of the fence with chicken wire - that should stop him! Of course, we had to get the chicken wire and within that time Riky went over several times without Jumpr's guidance - once actually through the six inch space between the barbed wire and the regular fence (don't ask me how he did it, but i saw it with my own eyes!) and once he didn't quite make it and was found dangling from one leg, caught on the fence wiring.Finally, the chicken wire was in place and we were sure we had ended this nonsense. Even Riky's athletic abilities couldn't overcome our ingenuity, so we figured all was well. Unfortunately, we'd forgotten about the mastermind, Jumpr.The Pig Dog understood that there was no way he was going to go over like his friend. However, there was plenty of opportunity to go under, right? All one has to do is dig and dig to create passageway. So suddenly, Riky comes up to us all excited, and sure enough, there is no sign of Jumpr in the yard. Where was he? He was standing on the other side of the gate, waiting for us to let him in!Over the next several weeks, Jumpr dug and we filled his tunnels with earth, wood pieces, stones, rebar and even concrete, but he always found a way out. Riky was far too dignified initially to go under, but in a short time he too followed whatever pathway Jumpr would create. Jumpr going out on his own wasn't a big issue because he'd just come around to the gate and wait, but when Riky started joining him, it all changed - they'd go touring the neighbourhood for a couple of hours at a time. They always came back, but this was not an acceptable situation at all! If you don't let your children run amuck, there's no reason to let your dogs do so.I realized one day that we were going about it all wrong. We shouldn't be trying to protect the exit points, we should deal with the culprits directly! So when they returned from their excursion, there were no greetings of relief. I put on a very unkind face (my extensive experience as a teacher prepared me well for that sort of thing), and took them both to the back and leashed them to the stairs of the deck: misbehave and this will be your reward!After an hour or so, I went to check up on them to examine the state of their repentance. Riky sat quietly in shame. Jumpr was sitting too, but looking around. Suddenly, I noticed that his leash wasn't attached to him! He had figured out how to wriggle free from his collar, but because he knew he was being punished, he just sat in the same spot! I thought I detected a bit of a smirk on his face, but it's hard to tell on that face! This scene occurred a few times, but the dogs soon figured out that we didn't want them running off from the yard, so we had reached an understanding.Jumpr and Riky had a lieutenant-general relationship. Whenever there was an important issue to be resolved in the yard, Riky would send Jumpr ahead to investigate with his usual thoroughness of checking out every molecule of earth, water and air. When it was time to defend the territory, Jumpr would lead the charge with his ferocious bark that made one certain there weren't any pig genes in his ancestry. However, Jumpr is the epitomy of the bark being worse than the bite. When Riky was around, Jumpr was in his glory, prancing and brave. However, if Riky wasn't there to defend him, it was a completely different matter. Classic evidence of this occurred with the neighbour's little terrier, Mini, with whom our dogs would playfully fence-fight.Jumpr had pulled off one of his escapes and was heading around the fence to take up his usual post at the gate, when who should appear out of nowhere, but Mini. Though a quarter his size, Mini had a presence, and in that moment it was uncertain what that presence had in mind. It took one bark and Jumpr moved faster than we'd ever seen him, straight to the gate which he tried to push open with his front paws. Luckily we arrived briskly to rescue him from that terror.Something that has proved fascinating is the relationship our dogs have with crows. We have tall trees surrounding our house making it an ideal spot for bird visitations of all sorts. At certain times of the year, there are eagles, sparrows, chickadees, owls, towhees, robins, woodpeckers and even hummingbirds. It is really quite a spectacular birdfest, which is completely ignored by our dogs. However, crows, for some reason are a different matter as far as they are concerned, for as soon as a crow flies overhead they would bark continuously and give chase, the lieutenant leading the way of course.I must admit I don't understand the point of this chase since there is a vertical separation of over one hundred feet between the dogs and the crows. We have a theory that the crows, who can be just as vocal as our dogs, are actually teasing them in some way that our dogs can understand. This would seem to explain the dogs' selective focus and response to only these birds.After he'd been with us about a year and a half, Jumpr developed some walking problems. Being part shepperd, hip dysplasia was a possibility, but what seemed to aggravate it were the 8km runs my son and I did with the dogs from his music teacher's house. Gradually, he could barely walk downstairs in the morning (he slept with Riky in our bedroom) so I'd have to carry him out. His bladder control went too and sometimes in the morning, I'd find him trying to lick up his own urine, trying to make up for the accident he felt responsible for.Despite all this, his spirits were high. He liked staying outside and sit under the alder trees by the fence at the back of the yard. He'd hobble out to his particular spot and just lie in the tall grass for the entire day and sometimes we'd carry him back when it was time to eat. Gone was the desire to investigate. Gone was the mischief.Jumpr's walk continued to deteriorate, but his bladder control came back. Then one day we noticed that his trips to the alders weren't as awkward and he'd make it back on his own at dinner time. Gradually, the walk got stronger and stronger. Then the rolly-poly bounce came back. Then the ability to run. One day, we were even happy when we caught him trying to dig and escape under the fence.Jumpr was back and surprisingly, stronger than before! We attribute the recovery to his being strict vegetarian and some form of communion with the grass and alders. It is surprising how diet, rest and seclusion, combined with a supportive environment can create what appear to be miracles.He seemed to recognize his new strength too. On walks, he'd pull you along relentlessly, always in a hurry to go goodness knows where. In the past, he'd been what people would call a lumbering lumox, crashing into things, stepping on our toes, but now you got in his way at your own risk! Riky, despite his rank as general, regularly got knocked aside with hip-checks that would be the envy of any hockey player. Jumpr would come charging through open doors (and sometimes closed ones), scattering objects and living entities like a bowling ball scatters pins.His favorite activity seemed to be to steal a cushion and parade it right in front of us, delighting when we'd take it from him and swat him on the head with it. Occasionally, he'd even do his thieving skillfully behind our backs and we'd have to retrieve the cushions from our yard.Somehow, even though no one can stand this menace, everyone likes him. He is always the first to greet or to play, or even to just sit beside someone of any species (and we have quite a few in our home) to provide a moment of companionship.The Pig Dog is just a juggernaut of joy.[Editor's note: again this was taken from our towards freedom site blooks. jumpr is more than 10 yrs old now, though no one would know it. people meeting both riky and jumpr still think they are puppies.]

Challenged puppy teaches respect

2009-06-06T06:21:03.000Z

just saw this article about wy-it the winner of the bc spca animal courage award.sandy trent is a good friend of ours and was instrumental in getting us riky and jumpr (whom you'll hear about later).i'm quoting the story below in case the link is extinguished in the future, but if you want to see pics, you'll have to go to the paper itself.in friendship,pradChallenged puppy teaches respectThe CitizenPublished: Friday, June 05, 2009A tiny, deformed puppy who has been fighting for survival since he was born is teaching Vancouver Island school children respect and appreciation for our differences.And that's just one of the myriad of reasons a little shepherd mix named Wy-It is the winner of this year's BC SPCA Animal Courage Award."He teaches tolerance and compassion for those who appear different, and that there are no such things as disabilities -- only challenges," says Cowichan & District Branch manager Sandi Trent, who adopted Wy-It.Wy-It arrived at the Cowichan shelter in October 2008. He was shivering, malnourished, the bones on his front legs were growing in the wrong direction and he had canine parvo virus. He also had a permanently dislocated kneecap.But Trent saw something in the perky pup's big, brown eyes and pulled out all the stops to give him a fighting chance at life. Wy-It spent nine days at the vet fighting parvo, and once he recovered visited an orthopedic surgeon to repair his legs. Unfortunately, once Wy-it was anesthetized and the vet was able to have a good look at his damaged limbs, it was decided that they were damaged beyond repair.Trent says she was prepared to have him humanely euthanized at that point because she didn't want him living with pain in the future, as he had so cruelly lived with in the past. Her mood was euphoric when the vet told her he wasn't in pain; he was just a little awkward on his feet."I couldn't believe it," recalls Trent. "You can imagine the rollercoaster of emotion you would feel hearing that the surgery wasn't possible, but also that he wasn't in pain and could come home."The vet also warned, however, that Wy-It was a "day-to-day" dog, and that a growth spurt could complicate his status; that is, he may not always be without pain.Trent took the information in stride, and makes sure that every day of Wy-It's life is a blessing."Every morning I wake up praying he won't have a growth spurt that will cripple his little body. I think about how hard it would be to say goodbye, but then I think about how much joy he has brought to so many."Trent brings Wy-It and her other dog, Holly, to local schools to teach children about tolerance and appreciation for one another. Coincidentally, Holly, a shy, gentle pit bull, was last year's winner of the BC SPCA Animal Courage Award, having survived being shot in the neck and left for dead at a local shopping mall.When Wy-It isn't in school or enjoying a day in the sun, he's tossing around orphaned socks in his own special game of fetch or batting the television remote control around Trent's house. Sadly, he also likes to make chew toys out of brand new $50 bills left unprotected on countertops."A word to those who have had a similar misfortune: You need at least two serial numbers to replace 'chewed bills,'" jokes Trent.There may come a day when Trent must make a difficult decision concerning Wy-It's health, but for now, he's a happy, and now award-winning, pup who teaches people about the things that matter."Sometimes, these little souls are only meant to touch our lives briefly, but the lessons they teach remain forever," says Trent. "Every day, I pray that he wakes up without pain, and that we have yet another perfect day to spend together."The BC SPCA Awards Program honours both people and animals who have made outstanding contributions to animal welfare during the past year. Recipients include veterinarians, staff, volunteers and even animal heroes.

The Rikster

2009-06-04T18:15:13.000Z

Riky the dog goes by a variety of names like Riky-Tiky or Rikle-Tickle-Pickle. He seems to be a black rotweiller-labrador-shepherd cross. This story lends itself best to his identity of being the Rikster.When we went to get him from the shelter, every dog was trying to get through the gate in their enclosure. It is sad to see the hope in each one's eyes, knowing that all but one will be disappointed. However, Riky was different, though not indifferent. He simply lay quietly at the front of his space, on his side with his head on the floor, just watching us. There was no jumping, no barking nothing that even hinted at "take me now!". Nor did he look sad or forlorn. He simply seemed to be willing to let things come as they will. Well it worked. This equanimity seemed to attract my son, Kyron, to him right away and off he went with us.He was a very good-natured, 8 month old fellow who had apparently been found wandering on a highway by the vet who had her office in our area. She had taken him to the SPCA and was pleasantly surprised when we eventually brought him in to be neutered. Riky seemed to be delighted going with the receptionist who took him into a waiting room for the vet to check him out. She explained it would be a simple procedure and he'd be ready to leave that afternoon.When we went to pick him up later that day, he had lost his bounce and energy because he was still recovering from the anaesthetic. He almost had to be helped into the car and then out of the car and then into the house. Complicating matters was the protective neck collar to stop him from going after his stitches. He slept most of that day, all through the night and was still sluggish the next morning.However, during the day he seemed to regain his alertness and with it, the awareness that something was bothering him down below. Now that neck collar is supposed to stop him from probing the sutured area, but it seems the vet staff hadn't quite calculated on Riky's flexibility for he was easily able to reach where he should not.So off came the collar and we tried to reason with him. This process amounted to all of us watching him closely for any effort to move towards the stitching. When from a semi-laying position the hindleg lifted up and the head moved down, we knew that licking and nibbling of the forbidden area was inevitable. The shouts of "No Riky!"and "Stop Riky!" resounded from all corners of the room. Riky initially seemed puzzled by these outbursts - after all, he was only trying to relieve an area that was causing him minor discomfort - but seemed to also enjoy the attention. The problem of course was that it wasn't possible to watch him continuously, so he knew all he had to do was bide his time and, especially at night, he could get away with his crime.During the day, he was usually caught which soon led to his deployment of a fascinating strategy. He knew just when we would react and what for, and so followed this sequence. He looked down at his goal. Then he'd look to see if anyone was watching. If the coast seemed pretty clear, the head would move lower and simultaneously the hindleg would move upwards producing an unobstructed path. Slowly ... slowly ... almost there ... "No Riky!" ... ooops. The hindleg immediately moved to the lowered head and proceeded to scratch it vigorously, while the face took on a look of innocent bewilderment."I am only scratching my head. What's the big deal? Why is everyone getting after me for that?"Riky realized that this technique paid big dividends. After all, if he was caught, the head scratching exonerated him and if he wasn't, well that's just the shortcoming of the police force. We have to admit that we were unable to find a way to match his resourcefulness.Despite his antics, Riky's stitches healed quickly (he is, after all, a strict vegetarian dog), and that resourcefulness has stayed thoughout the years. He enjoyed playing with us, but was also quite happy to play on his own if we were busy. I recall many times, watching him chasing his own tail with unbounded joy at 3am in the morning (when he had to be let out to relieve himself in the middle of the night). He didn't chase cars. He never tried to run away. He never went anywhere he wasn't told to. He would not only stay right with us during walks, if some members separated from the main group, he would run back and forth herding everyone together. He could get very excited, but managed to calm down whenever it became necessary. His athletic abilities were quite outstanding and he'd leave all other dogs (except one little whippet who he couldn't quite catch) at the dogpark, gasping during play.He was for quite a while the perfect dog.Yes he was, that is until Jumpr came along ... but that is another story.[editor's note: this is taken from our towards freedom site blooks. riky has been strict vegetarian for more than a decade (in line with this group's theme that "animals are our friends ..."). if you want to find out about more about riky or veg dogs, just ask. jumpr's story will be coming sometime in the future, assuming we can get around to writing about that menace!]

My cat Starshine (Shiny) Timmy, Shadow, Cruise, and others

2009-06-01T23:12:28.000Z

When I was 11 or so years old my fathers friends girlfriend had found a kitten sleeping in a dumpster in New York city. She moved in with my dads friend and needed a new home. Her name was Starshine, but we took to calling her Shiny. We took her in, but she was afraid and would hiss and run into the corner / closet of any room. The doorbell would freak her out and she would claw and run awawy. I took her into the laundry room in the lowest level of the house with me and sat her on my stomache, eventually. She sat there for hours and we bonded, she became friendly. She slept next to me every night, with her paw outstretched across my chest. I used to read mostly science fiction (and a bit of fantasy and psychology books) late into each night, and she would sit on my chest and hang out with me. this changed over the years as we moved but we always remained close.Unfortunately a trouble making pretend friend of mine and another fellow paralyzed her by dropping off 3rd floor to 2nd and she hit a glass table eventually, and told me they didn't know what happened, that she got in a fight with another cat, vets said shed die, then they said shed be fine, turns out she couldn't use her legs or control her eliminatory functions so my father had to express her bladder, and we picked up her feces, but she lived happily purring for 3 more years until my parents had her put to sleep. She could climb up and down stairs. Her leg would sometimes spasm.Interestingly enough we now have a cat named China, (from China White) and her brother Max, a long haired Persian, they are so cute and love each other deeply, we adopted them both. They cuddle and kiss and are very dear to one another. China is so loving she will come and rub up on you, she is more affectionate than any cat I've ever known, she always wants to touch you or vice versa. Big stomache, lots of fur, she sheds. Max the persian makes weird head movements when you go to pet him like your hand is an airplane circling, and he will put his butt to you and lay down and turn around.We had a cat Timmy who was a balanese, looked siamese but longer hair, he would pee in the toilet, come when you called his name, act more like a dog then a cat. He was very loving but died of renal failure.I had another cat named Cruise who had some serious health issues, would always meow and want to eat more but was so skinny. He lived only a few months from when we adopted him but he was pure white and at the end he slept with me in bed for a whole week while I was in bed much of the time too.I still wonder if raw food diet could of helped Shiny, Timmy, Cruise, and I have a cat Shadow now who is looking thinner. Shadow is like Timmy, very personable, he comes on walks with me, very affectionate, rolls on his tummy.well sort of disjointed but I love all the cats here at my parents, and the chihuaha Frodo now. The love from them is real, and days I turn off the pc and fast they keep me company and they are highly sentient. My cats also can tell when I am in an altered energetic state such as fasting or meditation.

billy

2009-06-01T07:54:08.000Z

for those of you who haven't heard about twyla, you can read a bit about her in bigG's helping our animal friends.you can also go directly to her page and view her powerful artwork and accompanying stories.below is one of them.in friendship,pradBilly was a cull boar we discovered freezing in an exposed, outdoor pen at an auction in Missouri. He had what we suspected to be a fractured left hind leg. Although Billy was an intact, adult boar he was the most gentle pig I've ever met.Billy quietly accepted us - fussing over him with a blanket and heating pad, feeding him cheerios, apples and yogurt by hand. We so badly wanted to rescue Billy, but it wasn't possible with his injury. We tried to reason with the auction workers to at least put him out of his misery and shoot him. We soon realized it would all be for naught when we were told it was the auction veterinarian that had bought him, left him like this and was taking him to the local butcher tomorrow.We stayed with Billy nearly all night but were eventually forced to leave. When we returned the next morning, we were not allowed on the premises but we discovered that Billy was no longer there and the rendering plant had not been called to pick up his body. It's most likely that Billy suffered through the night, freezing and in pain with his broken leg, only to be brought to slaughter the next day.I still have Billy's picture up in my office. He's my reminder of how animals return what they sense from us, that they appreciate kindness as all of us do and that we must fight for them harder than we ever have before.

It Takes a Community to Raise our Children

2009-06-01T05:26:16.000Z

this story is from our towardsfreedom.com site and written by ranjana. it was published in the local papers and everyone seemed to feel good about it for a while. may be these moments of understanding can grow to form a continuum for the human species.in friendship,pradThis is true for all our communities’ children, regardless of species! A perfect example is the story of Cathy Page and a duck family. Cathy was driving home along the Trans Canada Hwy when she spotted a mother duck and her brood zig zagging between the barriers on the northbound side of the highway. They were trapped and the mother was trying to lead her line of babies to safety.Cathy slowed down to see if she could help. Luckily, traffic was sparse allowing Cathy the time to observe and assess the situation. Soon a car came up behind her and then tried to pass. When the driver saw the ducks, she ,too, slowed down. The two cars formed an effective shield.Cathy rolled down her window and called out to this new found partner that if they could give the ducks enough time there would be a break on the right side barrier that the ducks could use to get off the highway.The two women kept guard while traffic piled up behind them.Cathy, noting the traffic and seeing that the ducks were not moving towards the clearing told her partner she would stop and get out of her car to usher the ducks off the highway. With her partner holding fort, Cathy, arms outstretched, quietly escorted the mother duck and her babies to the clearing where they happily ran into the grass, out of harms way.As Cathy rushed back to her car, she saw the waiting drivers clapping. Everyone was pleased to have been part of this rescue.Traffic resumed and life became normal again. But Cathy was filled with the joy of having helped this mother keep her children safe. Though the moment was over, all the people involved, could keep the warm glow that comes from contributing to the well-being of a vulnerable other.And somewhere there is a mother duck whose children are safe because of the support of a caring community.