Animal Writings

"I ask people why they have deer heads on their walls. They always say because it's such a beautiful animal. Well, I think my mother is attractive, but I just keep photographs of her." -- Ellen DeGeneres

when there is so much human suffering?"

Rabbit Interior Designers

Design skills are very important
To any self-respecting rabbit.
Why live inside a plain old pen
When you can turn it into something elaborate?

Now this concept might sound strange,
Maybe even funny.
But you'd take the subject quite seriously
That is, if you were a bunny!

First you'd change the floor plan.
I believe it was Sigmund Freud
Who said you can better express yourself
Inside a trapezoid!

Next you'd move the litter pan
From the south side to the north.
No special reason needed;
"Bunny's prerogative" and so forth.

For interest you'd add a paper bag
With entrances front and rear;
The ulterior motive being, of course,
To make it disappear!

You'd highly regard your water bowl -
Fine stoneware, sturdy and stable.
All the more fun to tip it over
and turn it into a table.

"I'd like some new toys - ASAP!"
That's the point you'd get across
As you threw out your current supply of playthings
With one determined and decisive toss!

Knowing that a well-balanced living space
Needs maximum Feng Shui, (*)
You'd increase your Chi by randomly spreading
Large amounts of hay.

By far the best part of any abode,
Whether you're a Dwarf or a Rex or a Lop
Is a comfy fleece mat, placed right where you want it -
A tired rabbit needs to flop!

So remember this lesson, and remember it well --
If you ever come back as a rabbit:
Your number one job is to thoroughly change
The place that you inhabit!

(*Pronounce like "fung shway")

My Favorite Part of My Cat
What part of my cat do I like best?

The eyes, of course. Blue. Haunting. Mesmerizing. Enchanting. Like a lake with a sapphire surface. The water is warm and oceanic and enveloping and deep. The eyes are flecked with gold and hues and the sun and stars.

But that tail! It speaks and lashes and slashes and curls and says "Mr. Watson, come here I want you." It twitches before a pounce. It arches forward to say "Hi." It's a barometer: straight up means fair weather, half-mast means trouble brewing. It has a vocabulary of a thousand words and I only know a hundred of them. At rest, it is a tail of two kitties. One is peacefully sleeping, the other is wrapped around, nurturing, protective.

But it must be the nose! Velveteen. Precocious. Demure. Investigative. Sometimes lightly snoring. When God had an idea to add something cute to the world, He added a kitty nose and said to Himself, "stop right there, that's perfect." Brush, brush, brush the nose. Kitty closes his eyes and breathes.

Those ears! Two detectives. Buddies, thinking independently, acting as a team. Danger! Food! Playtime! The front door! Food! Food? An army of two. Alert! Stand down. Like Yoda when a noise happens off to the side. Ears back — ready to attack. Ears forward — on duty at the window. Ears at rest — two punctuation marks. Just like a five year-old's picture: little circle, big circle, curly-cue, and those two exquisite pointy ears.

The claws! When my cat steps up to his cardboard scratching pad, his paws dig and stomp. And he's like a little buffalo, and shreds of cardboard are flying everywhere, and I say "good boy," and he scratches more vigorously, and it's loud, and it's a big, fun mess. And his claws are like fine silver cutlery. When he kneads, he lets the claws come out just a little. He bunches up the bedspread, then lets go. He does this over and over. It's more calming then waves on the beach.

I almost forgot the purr! It puts me into a deep sleep. It soothes me. It heals my bones and makes me well when I am ill. Cats are small furry nursemaids — they come up and purr for animals and people to help them feel better. It's a wonderful mystery. Scientists are trying to solve that mystery. Why?

They're all my favorite parts because they're all part of my cat. He's a good cat, and he just gave me a big head-bump to remind me.

"[Masson] invites us to listen to...a gander trying desperately to help his mate with a broken wing limp over a vast plain to their southern wintering grounds:

She had set foot on the long journey to the Falkland Islands by foot. He would not leave her, so after flying for a few hundred yards, he would alight and wait for her to catch up. He would fly ahead, to show her the way, then return, again and again, calling to her with his wildest and most piercing cries, urging her to spread her wings and fly with him to their distant home.

Having gotten to know chickens and turkeys and ducks and studied the faces of factory-farmed animals in footage and photos over the past twenty years, I see in this image of the desperate gander and his struggling mate a symbol of the agony in the birds and mammals we've imprisoned "in situations where they cannot express the emotions they inherently possess" apart from desperation, fear, loneliness, degradation and defeat. Farmed animals carry within themselves an imprint of their "distant homes."

-- Karen Davis, founder and president of United Poultry Concerns

.............

I am happy to join with you today in what will go down in history as the greatest demonstration for freedom in the history of our nation.

Five score years ago, a great American, in whose symbolic shadow we stand today, signed the Emancipation Proclamation. This momentous decree came as a great beacon light of hope to millions of Negro slaves who had been seared in the flames of withering injustice. It came as a joyous daybreak to end the long night of their captivity.

But one hundred years later, the Negro still is not free. One hundred years later, the life of the Negro is still sadly crippled by the manacles of segregation and the chains of discrimination. One hundred years later, the Negro lives on a lonely island of poverty in the midst of a vast ocean of material prosperity. One hundred years later, the Negro is still languishing in the corners of American society and finds himself an exile in his own land. So we have come here today to dramatize a shameful condition.

In a sense we have come to our nation's capital to cash a check. When the architects of our republic wrote the magnificent words of the Constitution and the Declaration of Independence, they were signing a promissory note to which every American was to fall heir. This note was a promise that all men, yes, black men as well as white men, would be guaranteed the unalienable rights of life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.

It is obvious today that America has defaulted on this promissory note insofar as her citizens of color are concerned. Instead of honoring this sacred obligation, America has given the Negro people a bad check, a check which has come back marked "insufficient funds." But we refuse to believe that the bank of justice is bankrupt. We refuse to believe that there are insufficient funds in the great vaults of opportunity of this nation. So we have come to cash this check -- a check that will give us upon demand the riches of freedom and the security of justice. We have also come to this hallowed spot to remind America of the fierce urgency of now. This is no time to engage in the luxury of cooling off or to take the tranquilizing drug of gradualism. Now is the time to make real the promises of democracy. Now is the time to rise from the dark and desolate valley of segregation to the sunlit path of racial justice. Now is the time to lift our nation from the quick sands of racial injustice to the solid rock of brotherhood. Now is the time to make justice a reality for all of God's children.

It would be fatal for the nation to overlook the urgency of the moment. This sweltering summer of the Negro's legitimate discontent will not pass until there is an invigorating autumn of freedom and equality. Nineteen sixty-three is not an end, but a beginning. Those who hope that the Negro needed to blow off steam and will now be content will have a rude awakening if the nation returns to business as usual. There will be neither rest nor tranquility in America until the Negro is granted his citizenship rights. The whirlwinds of revolt will continue to shake the foundations of our nation until the bright day of justice emerges.

But there is something that I must say to my people who stand on the warm threshold which leads into the palace of justice. In the process of gaining our rightful place we must not be guilty of wrongful deeds. Let us not seek to satisfy our thirst for freedom by drinking from the cup of bitterness and hatred.

We must forever conduct our struggle on the high plane of dignity and discipline. We must not allow our creative protest to degenerate into physical violence. Again and again we must rise to the majestic heights of meeting physical force with soul force. The marvelous new militancy which has engulfed the Negro community must not lead us to distrust of all white people, for many of our white brothers, as evidenced by their presence here today, have come to realize that their destiny is tied up with our destiny and their freedom is inextricably bound to our freedom. We cannot walk alone.

As we walk, we must make the pledge that we shall march ahead. We cannot turn back. There are those who are asking the devotees of civil rights, "When will you be satisfied?" We can never be satisfied as long as the Negro is the victim of the unspeakable horrors of police brutality. We can never be satisfied, as long as our bodies, heavy with the fatigue of travel, cannot gain lodging in the motels of the highways and the hotels of the cities. We can never be satisfied as long as a Negro in Mississippi cannot vote and a Negro in New York believes he has nothing for which to vote. No, no, we are not satisfied, and we will not be satisfied until justice rolls down like waters and righteousness like a mighty stream.

I am not unmindful that some of you have come here out of great trials and tribulations. Some of you have come fresh from narrow jail cells. Some of you have come from areas where your quest for freedom left you battered by the storms of persecution and staggered by the winds of police brutality. You have been the veterans of creative suffering. Continue to work with the faith that unearned suffering is redemptive.

Go back to Mississippi, go back to Alabama, go back to South Carolina, go back to Georgia, go back to Louisiana, go back to the slums and ghettos of our northern cities, knowing that somehow this situation can and will be changed. Let us not wallow in the valley of despair.

I say to you today, my friends, so even though we face the difficulties of today and tomorrow, I still have a dream. It is a dream deeply rooted in the American dream.

I have a dream that one day this nation will rise up and live out the true meaning of its creed: "We hold these truths to be self-evident: that all men are created equal."

I have a dream that one day on the red hills of Georgia the sons of former slaves and the sons of former slave owners will be able to sit down together at the table of brotherhood.

I have a dream that one day even the state of Mississippi, a state sweltering with the heat of injustice, sweltering with the heat of oppression, will be transformed into an oasis of freedom and justice.

I have a dream that my four little children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character.

I have a dream today.

I have a dream that one day, down in Alabama, with its vicious racists, with its governor having his lips dripping with the words of interposition and nullification; one day right there in Alabama, little black boys and black girls will be able to join hands with little white boys and white girls as sisters and brothers.

I have a dream today.

I have a dream that one day every valley shall be exalted, every hill and mountain shall be made low, the rough places will be made plain, and the crooked places will be made straight, and the glory of the Lord shall be revealed, and all flesh shall see it together.

This is our hope. This is the faith that I go back to the South with. With this faith we will be able to hew out of the mountain of despair a stone of hope. With this faith we will be able to transform the jangling discords of our nation into a beautiful symphony of brotherhood. With this faith we will be able to work together, to pray together, to struggle together, to go to jail together, to stand up for freedom together, knowing that we will be free one day.

This will be the day when all of God's children will be able to sing with a new meaning, "My country, 'tis of thee, sweet land of liberty, of thee I sing. Land where my fathers died, land of the pilgrim's pride, from every mountainside, let freedom ring."

And if America is to be a great nation this must become true. So let freedom ring from the prodigious hilltops of New Hampshire. Let freedom ring from the mighty mountains of New York. Let freedom ring from the heightening Alleghenies of Pennsylvania!

Let freedom ring from the snowcapped Rockies of Colorado!

Let freedom ring from the curvaceous slopes of California!

But not only that; let freedom ring from Stone Mountain of Georgia!

Let freedom ring from Lookout Mountain of Tennessee!

Let freedom ring from every hill and molehill of Mississippi. From every mountainside, let freedom ring.

And when this happens, When we allow freedom to ring, when we let it ring from every village and every hamlet, from every state and every city, we will be able to speed up that day when all of God's children, black men and white men, Jews and Gentiles, Protestants and Catholics, will be able to join hands and sing in the words of the old Negro spiritual, "Free at last! free at last! thank God Almighty, we are free at last!"

.............

When I look at animals held captive by circuses, I think of slavery. Animals in circuses represent the domination and oppression we have fought against for so long. They wear the same chains and shackles."

"Before animals are skinned and made into fur coats or trim, they suffer incredible—and needless—cruelty."

"Cruelty is cruelty, whether it’s cruelty to children, to the elderly, to dogs and cats, or to chickens, animals who are at least as intelligent as dogs or cats and are interesting individuals in their own right."

"While I am hardly one to complain about a young African American making an honest living, I urge you to ask yourself just how honorable it is to preside over the abuse and suffering of animals."

"Vegetarians are leaner than meat-eaters, so being a vegetarian is not only good for animals, it's good for your girth, too!"

"America’s meat addiction is responsible for immense animal suffering as well as poor human health. It's time for people to lighten up on animals and lighten themselves up, too."

"The animals of the world exist for their own reasons. They were not made for humans any more than black people were made for whites or women for men."

"Fur farmers have cultivated strains of mink and fox that are genetically distinct from their wild cousins and which are accustomed to ranch conditions." -- The Fur Institute of Canada

"But for the use of physical punishment by their oppressors, animals would never be part of a circus."  -- Richard Pryor

In six weeks' time they would learn to fend for themselves. Instead, the men move in, welcoming the newborns into the world with clubs, hakapiks and hooks. With all the manhood -- and less skill -- that it would take to execute tens of thousands of frantic puppies or kittens, they go by boat and snowmobile from nursery to nursery. British and Canadian veterinarians, observing the scene in recent years, estimated that about 40% of victims are skinned alive. Uncounted others are 'struck and lost,' meaning shot and drowned.

Those who followed last year's hunt, which brought death to some 350,000 pups, will remember such typical scenes as one seal trying to escape as another is clubbed nearby; the creature makes it to water's edge but, too young to even swim, must wait there as the man with the club approaches. Other footage -- seen across the world, however unfairly, as the face of Canada -- showed sealers routinely dragging conscious pups across the ice with boat hooks, or shooting the seals and leaving them to suffer.

Yet standing there, ankle deep in gore and innocent blood, the sealers just can't understand why anyone would object. And we're all supposed to feel sorry for them, these fine, upstanding fellows so unappreciated by the modern world. Mr. Efford, back when he led Newfoundland's fisheries department, demonstrated the mindset when he proposed to ban all cameras from the scene of the hunts -- as if the problem were public knowledge of the event, rather than the event itself.

Mr. Francis:

I am compelled to respond to your statements about glue traps, which cause severe trauma in their victims and kill them by starvation and thirst.

"We have found glue boards to be an effective form of rodent and pest control..."

"Control" and "effective" are code words for "lethal" and "killing." Death from glue traps is slow and agonizing; there's little debate on that. Anyone who killed their pet rodent with a glue trap would be considered a monster. If used on a cat or dog, the perpetrator might be charged with a felony and forced to undergo psychological evaluation. Yet mice and rats suffer essentially the same as cats and dogs; they just have less legal protection. You are exploiting this loophole to torture the cousins of the animals you sell as pets.

"...and their use to be generally accepted by the public."

The public is ignorant, not accepting of glue traps. Explain to the public how animals stuck in the glue lose hair and fur, and how they chew off their own limbs to break free. Show the public pictures and videos of the animals struggling. Then ask if they "accept" this method of killing. We both know what the answer would be.

But it really doesn't matter how popular glue traps are. That the CEO of a purportedly animal-oriented company so casually accepts this method of cruelty is reprehensible. Of all places, PETsMART should be using the most humane rodent management techniques possible, not one that is widely known to be excessively cruel. Those of us in the animal rescue community who have lauded your pro-adoption policies are deeply dismayed at your callous attitude toward the suffering of other animals.

Further Thoughts

You surprised me. Posing on the birdbath, like a statuette.

Regal, commanding, composed, relaxed.

Mesmerizing.

You were too large for the landscape; the surroundings were too small for you.

In the instant, in my head..."wow." (I was inarticulate and wordless.)

Then you took off.

Your wings were a series of arcs, like time-lapse.

The air compressed and displaced beneath each slow-motion stroke.

You floated against the sky, blue, white, and gray.

You became an outline. Then you were gone.

Come back...