Good Morning.
I find it incomprehensible that it is so difficult to get laws passed at either the state or local level to deal with animal abuse. There are noise ordinances that prohibit everything from loud parties to barking dogs, but animal protection? Forget it. As far as I'm concerned, those who mistreat animals should get twenty years in solitary confinement and then twenty years of community service at the Humane Society. I am so nuts about animals that I prefer the version of Jingle Bells barked by dogs. Don't mess with me on the subject of animal treatment. I regard pet hair as a fashion accessory.
On a chilly, blustery afternoon recently, I settled in with a pot of coffee and watched several reruns of a veterinarian show
entitled Dr. Jeff, Rocky Mountain Vet. It's an excellent show as long as you like animals. If you don't, you were raised wrong.
Dr. Jeff is on the animal planet channel, but I think it should be on one of the big three networks in prime time because a vet show at 8 p.m. on NBC, CBS, or ABC would attract a wider audience and maybe start a national conversation about animal treatment. Dr. Jeff and his staff don't just stitch up a dog that was hit by a car or a cat who swallowed a rock; he crusades for getting pets spayed and neutered, he heals up pigs and chickens, he rescues dogs from puppy mills operated by the true monsters among us, and he goes to farms to take care of large animals like llamas and yaks. His clinic in Denver caters particularly to people who cannot afford high-priced veterinary care and his country trips often involve pro bono work. The show isn't boring anymore than ER was or Grey's Anatomy is. I was glued to the TV and actually learned something. Perhaps that would disqualify the show from being a prime time hit.
I saw an article on Facebook recently about what people who think they're good pet owners should quit doing forthwith. No chaining up the dog or throwing him or her in a crate for long periods of time. No swatting with a newspaper or anything else, no leaving a pet in a car, even for a few minutes, and no yelling at them. Animals understand people better than people understand people and are capable of feeling love, loyalty, fear, sorrow, and depression. I had neighbors one time who treated their dogs like garbage. They'd go off for twelve hours at a stretch, leaving those beautiful labs in the hot sun or the frigid cold. One time I threw a hose over the fence to water them and cool them off. My husband called the owners up about once a week and was told what he could do with his fine self. These people were highly-educated but were obviously not enlightened. There's a difference, a big one, and animals know whether someone has a Master's degree or a kind heart.
After Jamie died, I was afraid that our dog would sit in the window for years and refuse to eat but she has watched over me like a nursemaid. This is because we are friends, close friends, and when she departs from the earth, I will be devastated beyond words. After my last dog passed, I thought about joining a support group for those who had lost a spouse or a child but eventually I sent away for a book written by a Methodist minister who declared unequivocally that pets go to heaven and phooey to those lunkheads who say that God doesn't want them because they don't have souls. I beg to differ.
Best regards,
Elisabeth
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