Love that idea. Never heard of it happening , but I hope you are right.I can't remember which city but a big one in the US makes tiny houses for the homeless ~ basically a bedroom but out of the weather & safe.
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Love that idea. Never heard of it happening , but I hope you are right.I can't remember which city but a big one in the US makes tiny houses for the homeless ~ basically a bedroom but out of the weather & safe.
I odn't think for most here on this forum money is the point of neglect.You've got me thinking I should find a way to subsidise the vet costs of those who are less fortunate than I am. I'll suggest that Dr Mark starts up a little fund.
For me (well-off in a global poverty-wealth sense, but slightly above average when compared to my neighbours), a high standard of care includes sufficient food, clean water, attentiveness, suitable housing with species-appropriate enrichment, and vet support when necessary.How high is your high standard of care?
Is the creature in question a purchase?
There are many poor people who take better care of their animals than many better off people.
Does your view of care including killing a creature that is sick but possibly could be cured given sufficent funds?
Lots more questions...
Agreed. I don't think there are many genuinely poor folks on byc.I odn't think for most here on this forum money is the point of neglect.
For many the most expensive thing it seems, although they seem to have plenty of it to spend posting on BYC, is time.
Rich kids that get the best of everything often don't get the only thing that really matters and that's their parents time.
Excellent idea!You've got me thinking I should find a way to subsidise the vet costs of those who are less fortunate than I am. I'll suggest that Dr Mark starts up a little fund.
Lovely story RC. I got all teary while reading it.This reminds me of when I moved to New Jersey from overseas. It was a move for my job so the company paid to move my three cats.
There are special areas of the cargo hold for pets so it is reasonably safe for them to travel but obviously still traumatic.
I was a complete wreck deciding do I fly with the cats? That means I can crate them up but then we all arrive together to a new place that is not yet cat-safe and doesn’t have cat friendly places to hide away. Or do I leave the cats so I can fly first and prepare their new home. In the end I did the latter and had a friend crate them up and hand them over to be loaded in the plane.
It was winter and cold and dark and I had to find my way to the cargo depot at Newark airport. I was in a tiny rental car and had arrived myself inly 24 hours before. I had spent the time getting cat food and checking the house for cat dangers and placing bedding around the place that I had brought with me so they had some familiar scents to calm them.
The cargo depot at Newark is where a lot of perishable produce comes in to the US from Europe. I remember peppers from Spain particularly.
It is filled with long-haul truckers who then drive the produce into the middle of the country.
These are big tough guys. The group of four who were waiting when I went in had more ink than teeth, and their 18-wheeler rigs dwarfed my little rental car in the lot outside.
A little nervously I went to the counter which was one of those counters that officialdom uses to intimidate the public. It was almost as tall as me and a stern, gun-carrying customs officer stood behind it looking down.
He gave me a bunch of forms and told me to wait my turn.
I said “thank you sir” and obediently turned to sit with the truckers (I wasn’t about to cause any trouble in that setting!).
But the cats heard my voice. They were out of sight behind the officer presumably stacked up with the peppers.
And they started crying. All three of them. It was a chorus of yowls and pathetic squeaks.
All four truckers leapt up and went to the counter and started banging in it, and with raised voices demanded of the customs officer to “give the lady her kitties RIGHT NOW!”.
The customs officer relented and let me in the back to get the cats. The truckers accompanied me and picked up the cat crates and carried them for me to my little rental car. Three carried one cat crate each and the 4th held doors and helped load them into the car.
This all accompanied by a chorus of “here kitty kitty you will be at your new home soon, don’t be scared”.
Remembering this still brings tears to my eyes. I was tired and stressed and these four guys were so kind and to a man such softies trying to pet the cats through the bars of the crate.
I don’t have good pictures of them - they lived until they were just shy of twenty which was just as we were getting phones with cameras. Here are the two sisters well advanced in age. Their brother was a sweet ginger tabby who died before I got a phone.
And for tax I give you Minnie from yesterday - still sporting her lone tail feather and being active in the yard.
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It looks like those cockatoos that were opening the garbage bins.A picture puzzle for you.
Can you identify what this is a picture of? (Aussies, please wait until our OS friends have had a go )
Answer in spoiler below.
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This is one of our resident Sulphur Crested Cockatoos. He comes and stands on the kitchen window sill, knocking on the window until someone comes to fill the bird feeder. Unfortunately he is a bit camera shy and flew off as I tried to get a photo.