In Repose Blog

PETA's Euthanasia Record

That's right. Their EUTHANASIA record. From the People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals.

Looks like PETA has had their hands caught on the gas chamber switch.

The People for the Ethical Treatment of animals killed 95 percent of the adoptable pets in their care in 2008. That's 2124 pets.

How could they be so hypocritical? They don't want you to wear leather shoes, but they gas puppies.

According to public records from the Virginia Department of Agriculture and Consumer Services, PETA killed 2,124 pets last year and placed only seven in adoptive homes. Since 1998, a total of 21,339 dogs and cats have died at the hands of PETA workers.

This information is from the Center for Consumer Freedom. You can read more about it here.

The Center for Consumer Freedom is a nonprofit coalition supported by restaurants, food companies, and consumers, working together to promote personal responsibility and protect consumer choices.

Polo Pony Poisoning

Regular In Repose readers may recall my post regarding the FDA test called the LD50.

Its the FDA test Lethal Dose 50% that absolutely requires medicine to kill at least half of the lab animals it is fed to in some concentration before it can be labeled (a supposedly beneficial)drug. If a substance does not kill, it cannot be called a medicine.

Well geez. Whatever it was they gave to those polo ponies, it must have been some very good horse medicine. It would pass a FDA "LD100" test. It killed every polo pony it was given to.I sure want to know what chemical was so important to this polo team that they fed it to 21 of their ponies. What medicine in the world would so many apparently athletic horses require?

I want to make sure I steer clear from anything even remotely like it for my own little herd of equine. The more I learn about the chemicals we so blithely put into our bodies, and into the bodies of our children and animals, the less I want to do with them.

What would happen if we just ate good organic non-genetically altered food and drank clean pure live water instead?

From the maker's press release:

"On an order from a veterinarian, Franck's Pharmacy prepared medication that was used to treat the 21 horses on the Lechuza Polo team. As soon as we learned of the tragic incident, we conducted an internal investigation that was led by an outside lawyer and, upon its conclusion, we immediately alerted the state Department of Health and Board of Pharmacy. The report, which we are furnishing to these agencies, concluded that the strength of an ingredient in the medication was incorrect. We will cooperate fully with the authorities as they continue their investigations.

"Franck's Pharmacy has been providing patients, physicians and veterinarians with custom medications for more than 25 years. We are in the healthcare profession and are committed to improving the health of our patients.

"We extend our most sincere condolences to the horses' owners, the Lechuza Polo team and the members of the United States Polo Association. We share their grief and sadness.

"Because of the ongoing investigations, we cannot discuss further details about this matter at this time."

A Spring Filled with Buntings

When I saw the gorgeous blue feathers of the sprawled and still bird on my sidewalk, my heart sank.

An indigo bunting...oh no!

Buntings, both indigo and painted, seem to be plentiful here in Central Texas this spring, but not so plentiful that it was not painful to see one lifeless upon the ground  At first I thought my rascal cat Aidan might be the cause of this pitiful sight, but he was inside the house and could not be found guilty of this bird's condition.

The head was turned under the body, the wings were open, the feathers disheveled, the beak was open, the eyes were closed.

But it was breathing. It was alive. Brilliant blue plumage throughout meant this was a male. Females are more brown in color.

I picked the beautiful jewel of a bird up and immediately began to "run energy" into his body, the term used by Quantum Touch practitioners to deliver healing. It didn't look good at first. The beak remained open and the eyes closed. The head lolled about a little, I was afraid of mortal injury. I asked for assistance from Archangel Raphael.

Slowly, then, the bird came back to life. The eyes opened first. He lay sideways like this in my hand for many minutes.

Then the beak closed. Its body was still limp as I increased the energy flow and centered it within its neck region and then, within its heart. That seemed to work very well and suddenly  he became alert and sat up in my hand.

After a minute or two more he comfortably perched on my finger and began to look at me in the eyes. Back and forth his head turned and we seemed to have a bit of a conversation. I switched hands and fingers slowly, while he perched and re-perched, encouraging a bit of movement, but he seemed to be in no hurry to leave. He stayed on my finger for a good long while, once stretching his wings open and closed to arrange his feathers back into position.

"Don't you think you ought to fly up into that tree now?" I asked him gently.

And off he went and did just that, but stayed in the lowest branch looking at me for just a little while longer.

The Rainbow Bridge

A friend is putting her dog down this morning and my heart goes out to her. What a night of sorrow she and her family must have endured. I have been there myself many times. Most people who know and love animals are familiar with this prayer. It seemed like an appropriate post for today on In Repose.

Just this side of heaven is a place called Rainbow Bridge.

When an animal dies that has been especially close to someone here, that pet goes to Rainbow Bridge.
There are meadows and hills for all of our special friends so they can run and play together.
There is plenty of food, water and sunshine, and our friends are warm and comfortable.

All the animals who had been ill and old are restored to health and vigor; those who were hurt or maimed are made whole and strong again, just as we remember them in our dreams of days and times gone by.

The animals are happy and content, except for one small thing; they each miss someone very special to them, who had to be left behind.

They all run and play together, but the day comes when one suddenly stops and looks into the distance. His bright eyes are intent; His eager body quivers. Suddenly he begins to run from the group, flying over the green grass, his legs carrying him faster and faster.

You have been spotted, and when you and your special friend finally meet, you cling together in joyous reunion, never to be parted again. The happy kisses rain upon your face; your hands again caress the beloved head, and you look once more into the trusting eyes of your pet, so long gone from your life but never absent from your heart.

Then you cross Rainbow Bridge together....

Author unknown...

Farewell Sweet Dante

He was our last little ratty boy. He was over three years old. In human years, that made him about 100. Many rats die of old age at a mere two years. Over the years we have had seven fancy rat pets. Dante was the oldest of them all.

He'd been alone in the grotto since  Cielo  died a few months ago. I took him out most mornings and put him in my lap while I drank coffee and checked email. I would give him a grape or a nut for his own breakfast. He was such a sweet little boy who gave many rat kisses and cuddles.

His health had always been robust until a few days ago. I wrestled a little bit about the option of taking him to the vet, but I didn't in the end. I didn't want his, and our last memory to be of a cold silver table and a needle piercing his heart. He was not in pain, and I actually had some ratty pain meds in my fridge just in case.

I basically held him and stayed with him since last Friday. Lauren took turns too. Each night when I put him in the grotto I truthfully expected to find him still and cold the next morning. Even this morning, I did not find him that way. Somehow he was still moving around,and I amazingly found him standing on his hind legs attempting to climb into his favorite hammock.  I put him on the hammock and went to make coffee. I was surprised he was still alive as he had refused food or water and had been getting so much weaker.

I was going to then get dressed and hold him after other chores when I decided not to wait. I took him to the sink and used warm water to wash his eyes and nose and groom his little head with a soft paper towel. I wrapped him in a fuzzy cloth and carried him with me as even in my nightclothes I gave hay to my horses and fed the dogs and the cats. I just finshed those chores when I sat down to re-wrap the little boy's blanket. He grabbed my finger gently,then groomed his eyes twice. He looked at me and then really stretched his whole body long, and gave a great big yawn.  He looked at me one more time and sighed. I held my hand over him and felt the shimmering of his soul detaching.

He was gone.

Dante managed to do just what his brother Cielo did, which was hang on overnight and wait to be with me during his transition over to the next world.

I had asked the angels for this gift for both of us.

Thank you Archangels Raphael and Azrael.

More on Healing. What works. What doesn't.

The belief that repressing an illness through drugs is of use to the healing process will come to be seen as harmful rather than beneficial.

Caroline Myss, Ph.D.

Probably not anytime real soon, Ms. Myss.  We humans don't like change very much.

But I like to think we have evolved enough as a species to at least consider that reality. Why is it, that we think of energy medicine as "experimental"? The Chinese have practiced some form of it for 8000 years! In contrast, traditional allopathic medicine has far fewer years under its belt.

I seem to be on what might be seen as a quest for healing. I truly never consciously chose this path. Honestly, I have tried for decades now, to just make art and ride horses.That was the plan, plus have a couple kids on the way. Life has made sure that I have never really been able to fully concentrate on those passions as I have nearly always been in some sort of health crisis. Either my own, or a family member's or one of our dear animal companions. I have been a nurse more than an artist or equestrian.

I am not a newbie to energy medicine. I have been a reiki master since 2000. But I am learning some new modalities. Only a week ago I learned a variation on accupressure points and thought therapy called EFT. At first glance, EFT makes most people giggle if not laugh outright. The basic idea is you tap on points on your body while saying affirmations.

Hocus Pocus, right? Bear with me. I have a story.

Here is our cat Ellie.

We used to call her "sweet little Ellie". No one has called her that for a long while. She seemed to change right around 2002 when her best lover cat boyfriend Foxboy died suddenly. She frankly has never been the same. A couple of years after Foxboy died she started picking lots of fights with the other felines of the house. Then, she started to aggressively lick her belly. Until the hair was gone. Until the skin was gone. Until she bled.

The vet said she was allergic. To what we don't know. I saw it as more of an OCD but played the good mother of the patient and applied all creams and lotions, shoved all pills and squirted all liquids down her throat trying to "fix" her with drugs and chemicals. Cortizone shots seemed to work, sort of.  For about two or three years we took her in for expensive shots that became less and less effective as time wore on.

The last shot, last summer, didn't work for one day. In desperation, we tried yet another drug after that that made poor Ellie vomit and have horrid diarrhea. I was so upset to put her through making her so sick on top of everything else.  I angrily threw that poison in the garbage. (A regular ocurrance for me. Standing at the trash dumping out the contents of expensive pill bottles).

 There were no solutions left to try.

We resorted to poor Ellie having to wear an elizabethan cone collar 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. She has been wearing this for 6 or 7 months. She flat wore out three collars.She was so miserable she even obsessively licked the collar itself. Every day or so I have sat with her, or taken the collar off for her to try to let her groom or me groom for her with a damp towel. She usually attacked her belly within seconds, the moment she got the chance.

Its been very very sad.

Well last weekend I took a workshop on EFT. Emotional Freedom Technique, an energy healing modality based upon those aforementioned acupressure points.

One of my first attempts at using the technique was for my poor little miserable Ellie.

After the first EFT session I took the E-collar off she went after her belly after about 5 minutes.  I put the collar back on and tried a second time a bit later. The second time she seemed a little bit calmer, but had to put the collar back on after about 20 minutes. The next day, I had time to try to come at Ellie's issues from a lot of different angles. I addressed every kitty emotion I could think of with EFT for 20 minutes. How she missed Foxboy. How those other boy cats annoyed her to no end. How itchy she felt inside her own skin.

Then I took off her collar one more time. She just breathed a really big sigh and promptly took a nap. I watched her like a hawk. She finally woke up and groomed, but normally, not like she was on amphetamines.

Its been almost a week and I haven't had to put the E-collar on since that 20 minute EFT "tapping" session.. The first night where she was so much better before bedtime my family thought it was a monumental mistake not to put the collar on overnight. They all completely expected open bloody wounds this morning, and every day since actually.... I am happy to report that she is grooming normally and seems amazingly calm.

EFT worked. It flat worked. I still check on her all the time because the change in her is so dramatic its hard to believe.

Wanna piss me off and call it "the placebo effect"? Go ahead make your case. I know EFT just worked. And its not an uncommon story. More and more people are discovering how to help themselves and their pets.

I can't wait to tell my vet.

A Dog's Purpose

The story below is from an email being passed around that landed in my inbox this morning (Thanks Joy!)

I am posting it here mostly for my Dad who I know is missing this good old black lab mix, Murphy. I miss her too, Dad. And our dog Raven is looking more like Murphy every day, with the cloudy eyes and the white muzzle.

Being a veterinarian, I had been called to examine a ten-year-old Irish Wolfhound named Belker. The dog's owners, Ron, his wife Lisa, and their little boy Shane, were all very attached to Belker, and they were hoping for a miracle.

I examined Belker and found he was dying of cancer. I told the family we couldn't do anything for Belker, and offered to perform the euthanasia procedure for the old dog in their home.

As we made arrangements, Ron and Lisa told me they thought it would be good for six-year-old Shane to observe the procedure. They felt as though Shane  might learn something from the experience.

The next day, I felt the familiar catch in my throat as Belker's family surrounded him. Shane seemed so calm, petting the old dog for the last time, that I wondered if he understood what was going on. Within a few minutes, Belker slipped peacefully away.

The little boy seemed to accept Belker's transition without any difficulty or confusion. We sat together for a while after Belker's Death, wondering aloud about the sad fact that animal lives are shorter than human lives. Shane, who had been listening quietly, piped up, 'I know why.'

Startled, we all turned to him. What came out of his mouth next stunned me. I'd never heard a more comforting explanation.

He said, 'People are born so that they can learn how to live a good Life -- like loving everybody all the time and being nice, right?' The Six-year-old continued, 'Well, dogs already know how to do that, so they don't have to stay as long.....

A Question for PETA

Anyone who knows me well or reads this blog knows how much I love animals. I don't eat mammals or wear fur but I do still eat fish and chicken and use leather products. (I call it my "Little House on the Prairie" method for determining use/consumption of critters.) I try my best to do right by the animals in my care and even the ones I put on my dinner plate by supporting cage-free and organic products.

But I have been thinking for a while how outrageously out of control and extreme PETA can be in their efforts to "help" animals.

I have been wondering something for a while. Probably due to the fact that I love my companion rats so much, walking down the "pest control" aisle in the grocery store is almost an impossible feat. We all put different values on different life forms, don't we? My beautiful Cielo was my friend, but might have been YOUR vermin stuck fast on a glue trap.

Maybe one of you out there can answer this question: If every living thing has a right to live, I want to know PETA's stance on bacteria and viruses. If a PETA member had, say, an extreme skin eating bacterial infection, would they allow said bacteria to live and thrive and eschew any treatment using anti-biotics?

Doesn't the bacteria have as much right to live as any life form in PETA thinking?

Just wondering.

Cielo's Gift

When the boys were babies and then growing up, I felt like I knew Cielo the least. He was the "scardy-rat" of the bunch, and would startle the easiest and hide a lot if the activity level or the tumbling games of his rambunctious brothers got to be too much for him. Lauren and I thought that made him the cutest in a way because he was the biggest of them all, but the least brave. He had the biggest ears too, and really to us looked like a teddy bear.

I spent the most time with Lennon with his tumor surgeries...and Dante, because those two were like peas in a pod and were the most brave and happiest to leave their grotto and explore the "big house". We had lots of time with Angelo, too, our quick little "thief" with his wonky teeth, we had many trips to the vet for trims and spent countless hours in the car and waiting room.

But until Cielo's stroke in May, I spent the least time with him and felt like I knew him least of the four boys.  Well, he took care of THAT little detail, didn't he? After his stroke he stopped being timid and he spent a lot of time out of the grotto and in the company of the rest of the family of cats and dogs and people, usually carried about in a wicker basket.

My days lately have been structured around his care, which has been hospice for so long it almost seemed like a normal way to live. The last visit to the vet for a tooth trim (he had been avoiding hard foods for a while now) I was afraid Dr. Buddy would try to talk me into putting him down. He didn't. I told him more than anything in the world I wanted this rat to decide for himself when it was time to leave his body, and with any luck at all I would be holding him at the time. Dr. Buddy said he understood.

We both agreed he was not in pain and as long as I was willing to care for him as I was and he was willing to keep living, we could keep going. As a matter of fact he said Cielo's weight was fine, he was not too skinny and gave me some eye ointment for a little scratch that said to use for two weeks. I actually did laugh at those instructions. "He doesn't have two weeks to live!"  But look how long he had beaten the odds since May?  Who knew how much longer he would stick around?

I fed him a nice dinner last night of mashed avocado, some organic turkey vegetable baby food, wheat bread and red grapes. He had been getting tired while eating and soon he fell asleep with a piece of grape in his mouth. I took it out and put him in the grotto with Dante and covered him up with a fuzzy little piece of blanket.

Every morning for months now, the first thing I have done when I woke up would be to head for the grotto. When I would open the door I would hold my breath for a moment to see if Cielo would still be warm and breathing. He was indeed still breathing this morning, but he wasn't very warm. I knew right away, today would be different. His eyes weren't moist and he wasn't blinking either. He was dying.

I wrapped him up in his little piece of sheepskin and held him close, saying prayers over him. (As I had at least three times this past summer.)  But this time I knew it was finally the end. I couldn't feel his heartbeat at all and his breathing was very shallow. I closed his eyes and wiped the tears from mine, and stroked his stiff old body and told him it was Ok to go.

I gave him a kiss on top of his little head and told him how much I loved him, and how glad I was that he had been in our lives. At that moment he took one final deep breath and then died. I had been praying for a long while for exactly this gift. I really believe Cielo hung on overnight to wait to die in my arms this morning.

Did I mention "Cielo" means cloud, or heaven in Italian? It was a good name for him. It fit him so well. He had a grand life and he was well loved and was gently cared for until his very last moment.

We should all be so lucky.

One Last Wish

My good friend Cristy writes a blog called Horse Stories Illustrated. Besides being a remarkably talented photographer, Cristy stretches her creativity and includes lovely considered stories to accompany her images. Today, her entry is called One Last Wish.

I find it amazing, just mind boggling, how many horses suffer the same horrible treatment by people here in the United States. Collected (and for what?) and then left to starve in pastures or paddocks it is not unusual for weeks or even months to go by before someone notices and is able to intervene. The law here makes it quite easy to abuse animals, unfortunately.

But One Last Wish is mostly the story beyond the shameful treatment by the original owner. Its lovingly told with dignity by Cristy, which mirrors the care the mare received in her final months, weeks and hours.

This story is so poignant to me now as I still am providing "hospice" care to my little Cielo. Every morning I hold my breath and am ready to find a still and cool body, but again, not yet this morning. Sometimes I wonder if I am nuts. Caring as I do, committing the time as I have been, every day, to care and keep this boy alive. My friend Marie says she would not let her animals suffer. I too, of course, do not want that for any of my creatures. I look at Cielo every day and ask him, and myself, are you suffering? So far the answer is "no".

No, he is not normal, he is certainly not healthy. Even without his stroke he would be a geriatric rat. But he is alert, has a great appetite, is able to groom his face, and he is affectionate towards me and his brother Dante.  He does not cry or seem to be in pain. So we have yet another day to be together, here, deep into October, when the odds were so great that he should just slip away early last May.

Here is Cielo grooming after his breakfast.

I am really hoping I don't have to make the decision to decide his last day. I am hoping Cielo decides that for himself.