Animals and the Afterlife (47 page)
Somehow, no matter how many times I witness such deliberate behaviors, I am touched at a core level—not only by the acts of compassion themselves, but by the fact that they are taking place among a species that my own species generally considers valueless. I feel honored to be a witness to such boundless expressions of compassion in a place where most don’t even look for it and wouldn’t expect to find it. I am equally touched when such boundless compassion is expressed by my fellow humans.
I could not have slept tonight if I had left that helpless little creature to perish on the ground.
—A
BRAHAM
L
INCOLN
O
NE DAY A MESSAGE WAS LEFT
on my answering machine by a man who was looking for a home for a young female rat. He had been referred to me by a local veterinarian who knew I rescued rats. When I returned his call, he told me the story of how he had ended up with this rat.
He had discovered a small black rat living in his home, so, being a compassionate soul, he had set a humane trap. Upon catching the rat, he had then driven several miles away from his home to set her free in a safe area.
Shortly thereafter, the rat returned. So, once again, he set the trap, and upon catching her, he took her on a drive even farther away and set her free. As soon as he opened the trap that spelled freedom for the rat, instead of running away, the rat turned to him, stood on his foot, and looked up at him as if to say, “Please don’t leave me here.
Please
.”
Staring down at the desperate and determined little creature who stood on his shoe and continued looking pleadingly up at him, he was deeply moved and unsure what to do. As he looked down at her, she stood up and continued looking straight up at him. At that point, he noticed her white underbelly. He didn’t think wild rats
had
white underbellies, so it suddenly occurred to him that this might
not
be a wild rat after all, and perhaps she didn’t know
how
to fend for herself in the wild.
Unable to turn away from this tiny creature who was clearly asking for help, he took her back to his home and settled her safely in a borrowed cage. He told me that he had talked to some of the other residents of the brand-new housing development in which he lived. The same rat had been spotted by several neighbors, who claimed the rat seemed to be just hanging around and looking for help. Apparently not all of the neighbors had shared this man’s level of compassion or choice of traps, as evidenced by the rat’s cropped tail, which appeared to have been chewed off midway in order to release herself from the painful grip of a more traditional trap.
My schedule was becoming increasingly hectic, so my dad was now helping me out with the ever-growing number of rats under my care. He proudly called himself the “Rat Chauffeur” and often picked up new rescues and took the rats on vet trips as needed, so we arranged for him to pick up the new rat the next day. When he arrived at the man’s house, both he and the man were
quite
surprised at what they found in the cage with her: three
tiny
, pink baby rats.
No wonder she had been asking for help
.
Unfortunately, two of the babies appeared to be dead and the third one seemed quite weak. There was no nest, and the babies had fallen partway between the bars above the floor of the cage. No provisions had been made for the babies because no one knew the mama rat was pregnant in the first place. So, when my dad arrived with the rats, I opened the cage door and placed it in front of a new cage I had set up, complete with a nesting box. The mama rat desperately checked each of her babies and seemed visibly agitated by the fact that two of them were indeed dead. She then reached for the living baby and delicately picked him up. She carried him into the new cage with her and settled him into the nest waiting inside.
I was concerned about both of them, as the mama seemed quite small and thin and her baby seemed quite tiny and weak. I wondered if she was too young to have babies, or if she had been poisoned or malnourished, or if the stress she had endured during her pregnancy had just been too much for her and her babies. I provided her with plenty of fresh water and food so she could regain her strength. I kept her cage in a quiet area and left her undisturbed so that her maternal instincts could do the rest. I quietly checked on her regularly to make sure she and her baby were okay.
The mama rat, whom we named Danielle, did her best to take care of her one remaining baby. She groomed him and nursed him and kept him warm. However, sadly, he died less than a week later. When I later saw what newborn rats normally look like, I was amazed that he had lasted as long as he did. He was much smaller and more fragile than newborn rats normally are. His fur had just barely begun coming in when he died, and I noticed he had the familiar pattern of a human-bred rat. This was no wild rat. This was the product of human irresponsibility. I was saddened by the loss but determined to make it up to Danielle.
Although saddened by her loss as well, Danielle seemed genuinely grateful for what we had done for her. With plenty of tender loving care, she soon learned to trust us. She regained her health and joined the other rats in our beloved rat family. Today she is a full-grown healthy rat with a soft, shiny coat and a playful spirit. She has lots of rat friends and has become a very special part of our family. Whenever I hold her and look her in the eye, I see an expression of gratitude and a remembrance of how she ended up here at the Rat Refuge. I massage her and tell her how much I love her. I then set her back down, and she trots off happily to run around and frolic with her buddies, her little half-tail bobbing back and forth all the while.
If a man aspires towards a righteous life, his first act of abstinence is from injury to animals.
—A
LBERT
E
INSTEIN
N
OT ONLY DO OUR ACTIONS
hold extreme power, but our words do as well. As much as we would all like to believe otherwise, words do indeed have the power to hurt or to heal.
“Ew, I
hate
rats!” I’ve heard these words on more occasions than I’d like to recall. These words particularly sting when spoken by someone sitting near me in an animal hospital waiting room, as the life of one of my precious companions is slipping away and my heart feels like it’s breaking into a million pieces. I know that the people speaking these words are merely reflecting a cultural stereotype that goes back a long time, but I also know that they probably wouldn’t even
think
of saying such a thing if they had any idea what a powerful blow their words could deliver on an already fragile heart.
We’ve all said things we regret, things we would take back if we could. Rather than wishing we could go back and un-say them, I feel we can do a world of good by resolving to choose our words more carefully henceforth. Withholding unnecessary or hurtful comments, while being generous with positive words of comfort and support, can benefit both the sender and those on the receiving end. Perhaps if we can learn to see everyone as an
individual,
we’ll stop making hurtful blanket statements. My own experience at fielding negative comments toward rats has assisted me in being ultra-aware of the power of words.
There was a time quite a few years ago when our rat April didn’t seem to be feeling well. I called an animal communicator to find out what was wrong, and I was surprised at what she had to say. She told me there was nothing physically wrong with April, but rather, April’s
feelings
had been deeply hurt. She said April told her that we had recently had a houseguest who had made some derogatory remarks about rats, and April had taken them very personally.
I confirmed that we had indeed had a houseguest the day before who had made just such comments about rats the moment April had entered the room (despite the fact that we had told this person in advance about the rats, and that they are a special part of our family). April had come out to greet us and our guest, as she always did, and she was accustomed to receiving a warm reception filled with comments on her beauty and loving disposition, to which she always responded with overflowing affection.
As soon as the insulting commentary had begun, April had left the room. I hadn’t thought about it much at the time, as I was too busy defending my “rat children.” However, now as I looked back, I realized that April’s demeanor had changed ever since that moment. We did our best to reassure her and to let her know that humans sometimes say very hurtful things, but not to take it personally. And Jameth proclaimed, “Anyone who hurts our children is not welcome in our home.”
This incident reminded me of a time many years earlier, when I was in high school and our family dog, Charger, had an appointment with a groomer. After many long hikes in the nearby canyons, his long fur had become quite messy and tangled, and our brushing and bathing routine just wasn’t doing the trick. Being a sheltie (or, as we often called him, a “miniature collie”), Charger was very proud of his beautiful coat, so as a holiday treat, my mom scheduled a visit from a mobile groomer. We figured Charger would prefer a groomer who came to our home, rather than having to go somewhere else.
After assuring me that she would take good care of Charger, the groomer escorted him inside the grooming van parked in our driveway. I went into the house to do my homework.
When the doorbell rang an hour or two later, I knew it signaled the completion of Charger’s beauty appointment. So I headed to the front door with the check that my mom had already written for the groomer. As I opened the door, I was shocked at the sight before me. I was basically speechless as I handed the young woman the check and escorted Charger back into the house.
The best way to describe the scene is “Lassie joins the military.” Charger had a crew cut, his beautiful, long fur all shaved off. He looked like a little pig with the face of a collie. Even the flowing mane that once surrounded his face had been cut very short and angular, making the poor little guy look like the helpless victim of a very bad joke. The young woman
had
told me she would have to do a
lot
of grooming to get rid of all those tangles, but I’d had no idea
this
was what she’d meant.
My mom called the grooming company and expressed how we felt about Charger’s haircut, but of course, that didn’t bring his coat back. So Charger, the formerly outgoing, very popular, proud, and beautiful little dog was now anything but beautiful. His whole personality changed. He acted shy, insecure, and often ran for cover when anyone came over.
During a holiday party in our home, he shrunk in humiliation as each guest arrived and laughed out loud, commenting with brutal honesty on his appearance. He did look funny, but he certainly wasn’t laughing. We did our best to comfort him, but the damage had been done, and his normally confident disposition did not return until his coat did many months later. I felt so sorry for him, and being a self- conscious teenager myself at the time, I felt I really understood what he was going through.
Animals may not know words (or at least not
all
of them), but they certainly understand the meaning
behind
the words. I think we forget that sometimes, because they don’t just say, “Hey, that hurts my feelings.” Maybe that’s why we hurt other humans’ feelings as well. In my experience, the feelings of animals are every bit as fragile as the feelings of humans. The more time I spend with animals, the more I realize we’re really not so different after all.
Holding Animals in a New Light
I have developed a deep respect for animals.
I consider them fellow living creatures with certain rights that should not be violated any more than those of humans.
—J
IMMY
S
TEWART
O
NE AFTERNOON SEVERAL YEARS AGO
, Jameth and I were driving between our office and our home when we noticed the motionless body of a cat in the middle of a busy road. Cars were whizzing by at a frenzied pace. We watched as half a dozen or so drivers ahead of us drove over the cat’s lifeless body, not so much as slowing down to take a look. Although the cat’s body was in the
middle
of the lane so the tires didn’t actually run
over
the body, but rather,
around
it, I couldn’t help but notice the complete lack of respect for that pile of fur that was once a cat. I knew that if it were a
human
body lying on the road, the pace would be much different.
“That cat deserves some respect,” said Jameth as he pulled over to the side of the road and put the hazard lights on. I agreed. We always keep emergency rescue items in our vehicle, so I reached for our cat- sized makeshift stretcher as Jameth motioned to the oncoming traffic that we intended to retrieve the cat’s body. We figured we would pay the cat our respects, apologize on behalf of humanity, and then find a more dignified resting place for his body.
Seeing what we were up to, a thoughtful driver put his hazard lights on and slowed down, allowing us to safely collect the cat’s body. We smiled and waved in gratitude as we hurried back to our own vehicle, cat in tow. As we ran, Jameth looked down at the cat and then up at me.
“This cat is
alive!
” he exclaimed, and I then noticed the cat’s side moving up and down to the rhythm of breath. The cat opened his eyes and looked up at us with an amazing combination of fear and gratitude. I noticed blood coming from his mouth. I wondered how much time he had left.
With Jameth behind the wheel and me in the backseat doing my best to comfort the terrified, bleeding cat, we headed to the nearest animal hospital. I offered soft words of comfort and stroked the cat gently, wondering if this would be yet another heartbreaking, futile rescue attempt.
Once inside the animal hospital, we explained what had happened, expecting the staff to spring into action to help the cat. Instead, one of the women behind the counter began casually asking us who was going to pay, explaining that they wouldn’t do anything for the cat unless they had payment up front. They obviously assumed we didn’t want to take on any financial responsibility because this cat wasn’t our
pet,
as if an animal’s life only has value when they’re the “property” of a human.
“Of
course
we’ll pay for the cat!” we exclaimed simultaneously. “Just
help
him!” We then scrambled for a credit card with enough available credit and filled out the paperwork that would determine whether or not anyone would help the suffering cat. After what seemed like an eternity, we offered some final words of comfort as the cat was whisked away to the back room. We were told that the outlook was dim.
During the cat’s hospital stay, we paid regular visits, delivering herbal remedies and words of comfort, as our new little friend made a remarkable recovery. We put signs up all over town hoping to locate the cat’s home, but the fact that he had no collar had already prepared us for the fact that no one would likely come forward. And no one ever did.
Having a house full of rats, we knew we couldn’t offer a home for this lone hero. So I called Maggie, our good friend and fellow animal rescuer. She already had more rescued animals than any one person should have to care for—and she took good care of them all (and still does), in addition to working full time, serving as a City Council Member, and engaging in countless other humanitarian and community efforts—so I certainly didn’t
expect
her to take yet another animal. But of course, she did. She took him in and named him Boris. She gave him his daily medications, remedies, and healing foods, and assisted him in completing his healing process. We kept the signs up around town, but no one ever called to claim a missing cat.
To this day, every time we go over to Maggie’s house, a very happy and well-cared-for Boris is there to greet us. I’m grateful that in his second chance at life, living with that incredible woman named Maggie, he is seeing the good side of humanity, certainly something worth sticking around for.
Nothing is more powerful than an individual acting out of his con- science, thus helping to bring the collective conscience to life.
—N
ORMAN
C
OUSINS
P
ERHAPS ONE OF THE MOST
sobering things a person can do is visit an animal shelter filled with the innocent victims of human irresponsibility. Jameth and I recently spent a Sunday afternoon visiting several local shelters where the majority of the animals will remain unclaimed and unwanted, and will have to be “put to sleep.” As we solemnly walked from cage to cage and pen to pen, looking into the soulful eyes of these abandoned animals, I realized that it was no different than visiting Death Row, except that these inmates had committed no crime … and they had certainly done
nothing
worthy of such punishment. They looked so sad and lonely. It broke my heart to know that we couldn’t help them all.
From disposable goods to disposable companions, we live in a world of excess and irresponsibility. Unfortunately, animals are often the ones who pay the price. According to the most recent statistics I’ve come across (as of this writing), there are forty-five cats and fifteen dogs for every human born. Furthermore, only one out of ten dogs born (10%) and one out of twelve cats born (8.3%) will find a permanent home. That means that 90% of all dogs and 91.7% of all cats will end up homeless, either dying in the streets or ending up in shelters. According to the HSUS Pet Overpopulation Estimates (
www.hsus.org
), three to four
million
dogs and cats are euthanized per year in the United States because they are not adopted or placed into homes. (This includes purebreds, who account for 25% of dogs in shelters.) That’s roughly 10,000 cats and dogs per day, seven days a week, which amounts to approximately 400
per hour
. (This doesn’t even include all of the other types of homeless animals who share a similar fate: rabbits, guinea pigs, rats, and other animals.) That’s a lot of lives.
Ultimately, building more shelters isn’t the answer. These animals don’t need ever more cages in which to live out their lonely lives; they need
homes
and
families
to give them the love and companionship they deserve.
When I’ve spoken with professional animal communicators about this, they’ve told me that the shelter animals they’ve communicated with feel deeply hurt and betrayed by humankind. I couldn’t agree more. So, how did this happen? Again, we live in a disposable world. Unfortunately, excess usually begets neglect, and neglect usually begets suffering.
Sure, there
will
be a place for them in the afterlife, but that doesn’t excuse the fear, sorrow, isolation and rejection they experience in the here and now, in a world where humans have bred them for our own wants and needs and then failed to take responsibility when things have gotten out of hand. In my view, every moment counts. The promise of a brighter tomorrow, while comforting, does not excuse the abuse or neglect of a gloomy today.
Every moment counts
. That’s why I feel it is so important for each of us to do whatever we can, no matter how small or insignificant it may seem. Just
being there
at the side of a lonely or frightened animal, adopting our next companion from a shelter or rescue group (for those who really want a specific breed, there are many breed-specific rescue groups to choose from), or simply offering our prayers and our support—these are acts that may go unnoticed in our society at large, but they never go unnoticed by those whose lives they touch.
Not to hurt our humble brethren is our first duty to them, but to stop there is not enough. We have a higher mission—to be of service to them wherever they require it.
—S
T
. F
RANCIS OF
A
SSISI
I look forward to the day when we all think twice before breeding our family pets, and the day we stop allowing unspayed/unneutered cats and dogs to roam our neighborhoods without considering the ramifications. I am hopeful that, as time goes on, we as a society will no longer neglect the importance of spaying and neutering as part of the responsibility that goes along with keeping animals as our companions.
I encourage those who are passionate about a specific breed to rescue their next companion from a breed-specific rescue group or, if they have the capacity, to start a breed-specific rescue group of their own. That way, they’re still involved with their favorite type of animal, but in a whole new capacity. The difference is, now they’re contributing to the solution rather than the problem.
We must encourage pet store owners to sell only supplies and
not
live animals—to use pet adoption, perhaps, as a humane way to get people in the door, and then to earn their living through the supplies that people buy. I applaud the stores that are already doing this.
As with most dilemmas in our world, it comes back to education. Most people simply don’t realize the magnitude of this situation. Many animal welfare organizations have powerful educational materials available. We must get them into as many hands as possible. People need to know. People need to visit the shelters and hear the cries, and look into the eyes of these abandoned animals to really
get
what’s going on. My heart goes out to those who work in shelters and face this reality day in and day out.
One of the most rewarding things we can do is volunteer to walk the dogs or cuddle the other animals at a local shelter. Although it’s not possible for any one individual to provide a loving home for
every
animal in need (and God knows, many of us have tried), each of us can take little steps that make a
big
difference.
Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful, committed individuals can change the world.
Indeed, it’s the only thing that ever has.
—M
ARGARET
M
EAD
“W
HY DO YOU HAVE SO MANY
? You
can’t
save them all,” I was once told by a houseguest who had decided not to like rats and certainly didn’t approve of the growing number of rats under my care. Between the lines, the comment implied that because I couldn’t save them all, I shouldn’t even bother—that it was a waste of time and there were more important things I could be doing.
“I do my part,” I responded. I then shared the parable about the person who was throwing beached starfish back into the ocean to save them. There were countless starfish that had been washed ashore and were littered all over the beach. When the person was told by an onlooker that it was pointless, that there were so many starfish on the beach that they couldn’t
possibly
all be saved—and that these efforts wouldn’t make a difference—the person tossed yet another starfish into the ocean and responded, “It made all the difference in the world to that one.” I love that story. The way I see it, we must not use what we
can’t
do as an excuse for not doing what we
can
.
Upon hearing of my work in animal rescue—and specifically rat rescue—another houseguest abruptly began talking about all the starving children in the world. Between the lines, this person was saying that my work in animal rescue was menial and unimportant, that there were more important things I should be doing. Again, this goes back to human arrogance and blatant disregard for the other beings with whom we share this incredible planet. I explained that I do what I can to make the world a better place for
everyone
—to help humans
as well as
animals. To me, it’s not an “either/or.”
I am in favor of animal rights as well as human rights.
That is the way of a whole human being.