MJ's little flock

[LaFemmeKatia]

Sorry for putting that topic out there. I'm not sure how it popped into my head but, while I'm sorry, I'm also glad I asked because now I have the benefit of your insights

It’s a worthy topic, and it’s appropriate to chickeneers.
It’s why I don’t just throw food and water at my chickens and forget about them.
I choose good food, keep the grit and oyster shell dishes full, I change their water and clean their waterers with Clorox. I keep the coop fresh as possible. I rake their run and broom sweep their porch.
And I talk with them often. Give them healthy treats. Take their pictures. Stuff like that.

 

[LaFemmeKatia]

Here's a question. We all know and openly acknowledge the joys of providing care for animals. Should that joy be denied to someone who can't afford to provide a high standard of care? Does your answer change if that person can't afford care through no fault of their own? Eg someone who is precluded from wealth by being born into a poor family in a poor nation? What if that's what had happened to you?

Or, just ignore me because I'm being too thoughtful today

I know I am posting backwards, but this is a great point. I do believe poor people need to have pets too. Food, water, and love & attention cost very little.
The problems arise when veterinary care is needed, and I don’t have an answer for that.

 

[LaFemmeKatia]

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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This is a wonderful story!

 

[rjohns39]

Good evening folks

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.
View attachment 2888408View attachment 2888409View attachment 2888410View attachment 2888411

What a wonderful story! Traveling internationally with pets is challenging at best.

 

[BY Bob]

View attachment 2888023View attachment 2888025

These chickens are moving with much more purpose these days. I love these shots of them out and about.

 

[BY Bob]

Here's a question. We all know and openly acknowledge the joys of providing care for animals. Should that joy be denied to someone who can't afford to provide a high standard of care? Does your answer change if that person can't afford care through no fault of their own? Eg someone who is precluded from wealth by being born into a poor family in a poor nation? What if that's what had happened to you?

Or, just ignore me because I'm being too thoughtful today

Ok, I will engage in this debate.

So much depends on the standard of care. Is it they can't afford veterinary care or is it that they cannot even provide basic food and shelter? I say you must at a minimum keep them safe and fed. Now we can debate feed and safety some but any animal for which you are guardian deserves that at a minimum.

 

[BY Bob]

Oh wow MJ, this may be too heavy a topic for me to engage with properly as I am still not quite back to myself.
My first thoughts are that there are base line responsibilities of caring for an animal - things like food, water, protection from abuse - that can be provided without much resource.
If someone is unable to provide those, they are probably barely able to survive themselves and probably can't care for an animal.
There are also the psychological needs of animals to consider - I always find it heartbreaking when people have to give up their pets for adoption because they lose their home. That just feels like a tragedy all around.
Now my head is hurting again so I am signing off and going to bed.

We may be in alignment on this.

 

[BY Bob]

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.
View attachment 2888408View attachment 2888409View attachment 2888410View attachment 2888411

What a wonderful story. I'm crying right now.

 

[BY Bob]

I know I am posting backwards, but this is a great point. I do believe poor people need to have pets too. Food, water, and love & attention cost very little.
The problems arise when veterinary care is needed, and I don’t have an answer for that.

Charity care is something the vets themselves should provide. It's a simple solution that just needs some guardrails.

 

[RoyalChick]

Charity care is something the vets themselves should provide. It's a simple solution that just needs some guardrails.

Some do, but I think it is mainly through animal shelters and TNR organizations.