Day 72: Thanksgiving massacre

Between You, Me and the Lamp Post

Day 72: Thanksgiving massacre

When a hundred people die individually, nobody knows, nobody cares. When a hundred people die together, it makes the news and it’s called a tragedy. 

When millions of turkeys are slaughtered, we call it Thanksgiving. 

Do you understand the picture above? We love cats, and dogs for that matter, but we mercilessly slaughter barn animals.

Why is that some animals are loved and others are killed without a second thought? 

Is it because cats and dogs are cute and barn animals are not? What does that say for people? Do those of us who are beautiful or at least good looking have more right to live than those of us less attractive?

A few days ago, millions of turkeys walked around happily. They felt the warmth of the sun, pecked at bugs in the grass, and enjoyed each other’s company. Today they sit golden brown on your table. Do you ever think what happened to them between then and now? They were grabbed and slaughtered.

If a million turkeys were killed, and each turkey had one liter of blood in him or her, that means a million liters of blood was spilled. Do you ever wonder what happens to so much blood? I Googled it and this is what I found:

It is taken to rendering plants with blood processing facilities, or disposed of in sewers (which lead into the nearest water body), in landfills or spread over land. Some amount is used to make human food and animal feed.

Frightening isn’t it, blood is disposed of in sewers that lead into the nearest water body ... that means blood ends up in rivers, lakes, and oceans. So when you swim in a river, lake or ocean, you’re actually swimming in blood.

Equally disgusting is the fact that some blood is used in human food. I Googled that too and found that blood is used in:

Pig or cattle blood is most often used. Typical fillers include meat, fat, suet, bread, rice, barley and oatmeal. Varieties include biroldo, black pudding, blood tongue, blutwurst, drisheen, kishka (kaszanka), morcilla, moronga, mustamakkara, sundae, verivorst, and many types of boudin.

So today, on Thanksgiving, don’t just give thanks for family, friends and all the good things you enjoy in life, thank the turkey who gave his life, for you. 

   

www.connymanero.weebly.com

Day 139: The day Greyson scared us half to death

My Project: 365 Creative Writing Prompts

Day 139: The day Greyson scared us half to death

There are people who complain that their life is boring, that nothing ever happens. In my opinion, those are lucky people. Here there’s always something happening and none of it is good. Take the past weekend for instance …

After a long hot summer, last Saturday the temperature dropped to about 18 degrees C (64.4 degrees F). Not exactly cold, but the air was definitely chilly. Still, I saw no reason not to let the cats out on the balcony. Dieter even took a nap in the swing there, joined by Halley and Greyson.

Saturday evening Halley and Greyson were playing, as usual, racing in and out of the living room to the balcony and back again.

This continued on Sunday morning. Halley and Greyson were playing while I showered and got ready for the day. And then suddenly things went wrong.

When I presented my fur kids with breakfast, Greyson didn’t take one bite. Thinking that he didn’t like that type of food I scooped meat from another can on a plate, but he didn’t want that either. Instead, he curled up on the couch.

When I remarked “Oh this is no good,” Dieter thought I was panicking for nothing. “So Greyson doesn’t want to eat, so what?” he said, “perhaps he’s just not hungry.” This sounded absolutely ludicrous to me. Greyson is always the first one by his plate and the last one to leave. That kitten has an appetite that makes me wonder where he puts it all.

For the rest of the morning, Greyson remained on the couch. Dieter thought he was just tired and sleeping, but I knew something was wrong. I know the difference between a cat who rests, who sleeps and who doesn’t feel well. Still, maybe he just had a cold from being in the chilly air the previous day, so I tried not to be overly concerned.

Dinner time came and went and again Greyson didn’t want to eat. Okay, so now even Dieter had to admit that something was wrong. I called out vet, but unfortunately, the doctors at the clinic were fully booked.

Now it so happened that Greyson had an appointment today, Monday, at 9:30 a.m. for his second inoculation. If he couldn’t see the doctor on Sunday afternoon, at least he would be able to be seen the next day. He wouldn’t be fit to receive his inoculation, but at least he would get a doctor’s attention.

By 6:00 p.m. his situation turned into an emergency. Greyson became unresponsive and we decided to take him to the emergency hospital. I called a cab, we put him in his carrier and took him downstairs to the lobby of our building.

And then something strange happened. While we waited for the cab to arrive, Greyson got up on his feet, took an interest in his surroundings and seemed so much better. He clearly wasn’t as sick as I thought he was so I canceled the cab and we went back upstairs.

Back home again Greyson curled up on a blanket on Dieter’s bed and went to sleep. Thinking that he had to eat at least something, I opened a tin with lots of gravy and let him lick my finger. After licking my gravied finger perfectly clean a few times I switched to a spoon. I loaded the food onto the spoon, presented it to Greyson and he licked/ate the gravy and meat. Ten minutes later he had finished his plate.

That made me feel a whole lot better. He had eaten and with this food, he would get his strength back.

From there on it got better and better. About an hour later Greyson came and ate from the big plate, a little later went for seconds and finished off his dinner with some kibble and a drink of water. Another half an hour later he was playing with Halley with a ball.

Today he’s back to his usual self. He eats, drinks, grooms himself and plays. It’s hard to believe that this is the same kitten that was so sick yesterday to the point that we thought we had to take him to the emergency room.

 www.connymanero.weebly.com

Day 134: Puss in boots

My Project: 365 Creative Writing Prompts

Day 134: Puss in boots

Most people you meet will tell you that they have no problem remembering something that happened years ago, but don’t ask them what they had for lunch yesterday. I’m one of those people. I remember my first date, how I felt when I first sat on a horse, and what I wore to a friend’s wedding. Safe to say, there’s nothing wrong with my long-term memory. My short-term memory … hm, that’s a whole different story. For instance …

Last week I was ready to go out when I couldn’t find my shoes. As always, I turned to my son.

“Dieter, do you know where my sneakers are?”

“Where did you take them off?”

Yeah, what kind of a dumb response was that? If I knew where I had taken them off, I would just go there and put them on. It was Dieter who eventually found them. “They’re over here,” he called, “under the kitchen table.” 

Under the kitchen table? Now that was strange because I never leave my shoes in the kitchen.

The next day it was the same scenario.

"Where were my shoes?"

“Again?” Dieter asked, slightly annoyed. 

Yep, again. A search party was dispatched and this time the shoes were located deep under my bed. Once again, I thought this was strange. While I sometimes place my shoes under my bed, I never store them in a way that I can’t see them anymore.

Two days later it got even stranger. Now I found one shoe behind my bedroom door and one shoe in the laundry cabinet. Something was definitely happening, and I wasn’t sure if I wanted to know what kind of strange forces were at work here. Was I the victim of a ghost who was playing a prank on me?

Having had experiences with ghosts in the past, I wasn’t particularly keen on that idea. Fortunately, before I could get myself too worked up about the possibility of a spook, the truth was revealed, and its name was … Greyson.

While folding some laundry, I saw Greyson coming into my room, grabbing hold of the laces of one of my sneakers and dragging the shoe with all his might into the living room. Considering that Greyson is a 10-week-old kitten who barely weighs 1,5 kg and the shoes are twice as big as he is, this was quite a formidable task.

The question is … what was he trying to proof by stealing my shoes? Play a game of puss in boots?

Then again, the way Greyson runs and jumps it might be a good idea for him to have some supportive footwear. At the rate he’s going he’s going to wear out his poor little feet.

www.connymanero.weebly.com

If the rich were forced to share, how many would benefit?

As a rule, I avoid social media like Facebook, Twitter, and others for the simple reason that some of those posts annoy me. But every now and then I still get confronted with articles or news headlines and they do more than annoy me, they make me bloody angry.

First, there was the news that America’s First Lady bought a $51,000 jacket. In my opinion, it’s the ugliest thing I’ve ever seen and they Dolce & Gabbana would have to pay me $51,000 to wear it, but that’s beside the point. The point it, how can anyone spend that kind of money on a jacket they will wear only once?

If it was up to me, I would enforce a rule that if people spent that kind of money on frivolities, they should be forced to donate an equal amount of money to a worthy cause. For a lot of people, $51,000 is equal to five years or more of rent. So why not give five hard-working families $10,000 each? Or ten families $5,000. Not folks who receive welfare, but people with jobs who genuinely do their best but still find it hard to make ends meet.

A few days later another outrages purchase caused me more aggravation. This time it was David Beckham who bought his wife a $379,261 purse.

Now wouldn’t it have been nice if Beckham would have been forced to donate an equal amount of money to the victims and families of the recent London terror attacks? That would have been money well spent.

Another worthy cause would have been to donate $379,261 to various animal shelters to supply food and medical services (such as spaying and neutering) to cats, dogs, etc.?

Or his money could have helped quite a few people who needed help with their mortgage. Or a particular city could have used the funds to subsidize public transportation.

And this is just the beginning. Middle Eastern sheiks buy diamond encrusted cars and paintings for hundreds of millions of dollars. They should be forced to help others with an equal amount. Not only would this help out deserving families, but they might think twice before flaunting their wealth.

If the rich were forced to share, just how many would benefit?

www.connymanero.weebly.com

Spay/Neuter Incentive

He said he loved me

He sang to me and whispered in my ear

All the words I wanted to hear.

He was so handsome

So utter gorgeous if truth be told

We talked and kissed, danced and rolled

When we made love

I lost myself in his eyes and in his arms

Succumbing to his considerable charms

I thought I was safe

But all too soon I found to be

The result of that love growing inside of me

When the babies were born

Their daddy was long gone

And all alone I had to be strong

I was not the only one

Others like me had to find a way

To deal with the consequences of mating day

How many babies died?

How many will grow up to be

Fools in love, just like me

If only those who loved us

Had taken the time to take us to the vet

The fling I had would be easy to forget

As it is and pay attention now

This spring fling of mine

Can result in 420,000 babies over time

We are helpless, but you are not

The pet population needs your assistance

Because when spring comes around, it’s not in our nature to keep our distance.

Why not visit my website at: http://connymanero.weebly.com/

Thank you for your help

On May 2^nd the Toronto Cat Rescue (TCR) is hosting its tenth annual Bowl-a-thon.

To all of my friends who have already contributed, a big THANK YOU for your financial support. I can’t tell you what a wonderful feeling it is to ask for a donation and actually get one!

You probably have no idea how important your donation is in making a difference. Before I became involved in fund raising and bowling for the TCR, neither did I.

The Toronto Cat Rescue is no ordinary rescue organization. Like many other animal organizations, they have a no-kill policy. Unlike other, there is no building where cats are kept in cages. Instead, they operate from a series of foster homes run by volunteers.

If someone wants to adopt a cat or a kitten, they are thoroughly screened. Then they can pick and choose from the many cats and kittens on the TCR website. The last step is a visit to the foster home where the specific feline they want to see is kept. Hopefully, if there’s a match, a kitty gets a forever home and the person gets a loving cat.

Needless to say, caring for so many animals is costly. Not only is there food and kitty litter to consider, but also the important step of neutering/spaying to prevent more unwanted kittens. This important medical step is very costly.

TCR does even more though. To control the cat population in Toronto, they trap feral cats and spay/neuter them. After their visit to the vet, they are set free again because their feral life has made them unadoptable.

Your donated dollars makes all this possible. Because of you, cats and kittens are well fed, have clean litter boxes, and receive excellent medical care.

If you haven’t donated yet, please visit https://www.canadahelps.org/en/pages/toronto-cat-rescue-bowl-a-thon-5/ where you can make your contribution directly to the Toronto Cat Rescue.

Don’t let the suggested amount on the website deter you. Most people have donated cash or made their donation to my PayPal account at conny.manero@gmail.com . Any amount you can spare will make a difference.

Thank you for opening your heart and your wallet for Toronto kitties.

Debbie’s new look

As some of you might remember, a few weeks ago I parted ways with my publisher after a trust issue. Since then, my designer and I have been working on a new cover and new illustrations.

Now here it is … Debbie’s new look.

http://tinyurl.com/m6yrhs9

Debbie is about a ferret who gets adopted from a shelter and goes to live in a condo, where she meets Charlie, the resident cat. While Charlie teaches Debbie the ways of the world, Debbie enlightens Charlie about the life of a ferret. Together they have adventures and get into all sorts of mischief.

The following is a little taste of the story …

Hi there!

My name is Debbie, and I’m a ferret.

You know what a ferret is, right? Have you ever seen a picture of a ferret? Please don’t say that ferrets look like rats. I’m nothing like a rat, and I’ll take it as insult if you compare me to one!

For starters, rats are rodents, while ferrets are more highly evolved in the animal world.

Rats are very active creatures, always scurrying after something.

Ferrets have a much more relaxed lifestyle. We like to take things easy. Did you know that we sleep, on average, 17 to 20 hours a day?

Other than that, rats are not exactly the prettiest animals in the world, are they? But ferrets definitely are. I mean, look at my picture, am I cute or what?

Whenever humans looked at me and my friends, they stopped in their tracks, peered into our cage, and said, “Oh look at these adorable ferrets!” They would comment on our pretty little pink ears, tiny black beady eyes, pert little pink nose and short little legs.

 My fur is a mixture of the same sand color as that of my friends, but with touches of black. I even have a black stripe over my eyes. People would say that I look like a bandit. Hmm … perhaps that would be an appropriate name for me, as ferrets are thieves by nature. Well, not actually thieves, let’s just say that ferrets like to collect things and then hide them!

But that was not the case. As it turned out, when I was adopted, my new owner had a proper name ready for me  He picked me up, held me at eye level and said “Hello cutie, I’m Andrew. What shall I call you?” His eyes squinted a bit and he cocked his head to the side before he suggested, “How about Debbie?”

Fine by me, I liked the name Debbie. Aren’t there movie stars or celebrities named Debbie?

Andrew, a tall human with red hair and green eyes, bought me a handsome metal cage, wood curls to line the bottom, a flowery velvet hammock to sleep in, a bag of dry food pellets especially for ferrets, some toys, and a litter box for ... hmmm, well, you-know-what.

Home was a condo on the 15^th floor. Through the holes in my box, I saw a large sunny room. Keep in mind that, small as I am, everything seemed a bit overwhelming to me.

My cage was placed in one of the rooms, and I saw Andrew taking my food into another room.

And then, gasp! I was taken out of the box.

Whoa, but the place was spacious! Being inside the box didn’t give me a true perspective on the size of the room. Once I was out of it, the room seemed enormous. Scared and intimidated, I cowered low to the ground.

“Welcome to your new home Debbie,” Andrew said, picking me up. “Shall I show you around? This is my bedroom. This is where I sleep at night.”

As Andrew started walking, I got the feeling that I was gliding through the air. He took me from room to room, complete with explanations. Let me see if I remember them all: there was a guest bedroom where visitors slept; a bathroom where Andrew washed himself; a kitchen where meals were prepared and the dishes were washed; and a living room which was, as Andrew said, for hanging out. “And that,” Andrew said, still holding me as we were back in the living room, “is the balcony. Want to see?”

Did I have a choice?

He opened a floor-to-ceiling sliding door and stepped outside.

Good grief! We must have been high up, because I could see for miles and miles!

“We’re on the 15^th floor,” Andrew said, moving closer to the edge of the balcony. “Here, have a look.”

Now that I could look down, the true height of 15 floors up made me turn rigid with fright. I had never been outside before, let alone being on top of the world. My whole life I had been in a cage, and if I thought Andrew’s apartment was spacious, that was nothing compared to what he called “outside.” There seemed no end to this breezy room. I guessed it was a room, except that I saw no walls, no ceiling and most frightening of all, the floor was so far away.

“Don’t worry,” Andrew said, feeling my panic. “I won’t drop you.”

Good, I thought, because falling was not an option! It was time to go back inside, because I felt sleepy and needed a nap.

Andrew must have understood, because he carried me back to his bedroom and put me in my comfy new cage. I crawled right into my velvet hammock and rolled myself into a ball. Ah, that was better. I knew I would go to sleep the moment I closed my eyes.

I awoke to a frantic tapping against the bars of my cage, and Andrew calling my name. Drowsy with sleep, I opened one eye.

“Hi Debbie,” Andrew said. “Wanna play?”

Was he serious? I couldn’t have had more than four or five hours of sleep. I yawned wide, as a hint that it was way too early for me to get up.

Instead of taking my hint, he persisted in rattling my cage, but I ignored him. Surely he would give up eventually, but not until he had poked and prodded me a bit through the material of the hammock. When I played dead to the world, he went away.

He must have started cooking something, because a short time later delicious smells wafted my way. Human food no doubt, so no need for me to get up.

Later still, Andrew made a second appearance. Again he tapped my cage, but I still felt too tired to move, let alone get up.

“Come on Debbie wake up,” I heard him say. “I want to introduce you to someone.”

Sheesh, but I really had to do something about this man rattling my cage. Didn’t he know anything about ferrets? Didn’t he know that we sleep most of the time?

I yawned, hoping he would get the message a second time, but clearly he didn’t. He kept on making that dreadful rattling noise.

“Wake up sleepyhead,” he sang. “Someone wants to meet you.”

Oh alright then, let him make the introduction. The sooner we got this over with, the better! After yet another yawn, I slowly uncurled and got to my feet, ready to meet … GOOD HEAVENS WHAT WAS THAT?!

Available on Amazon: http://tinyurl.com/m6yrhs9

"Debbie" - page 1

Looking for a cute children’s book?  You might be interested in “Debbie”.

“Debbie” is a children's book about a ferret who gets adopted by Andrew, goes to live in a condo and makes friends with Charlie the resident cat.  Together they have all kinds of adventures. 

Hi there!

My name is Debbie, and I’m a ferret.

You know what a ferret is, right? Have you ever seen a picture of a ferret? Please don’t say that ferrets look like rats. I’m nothing like a rat, and I’ll take it as insult if you compare me to one!

For starters, rats are rodents, while ferrets are more highly evolved in the animal world.

Rats are very active creatures, always scurrying after something.

Ferrets have a much more relaxed lifestyle. We like to take things easy. Did you know that we sleep, on average, 17 to 20 hours a day?

Other than that, rats are not exactly the prettiest animals in the world, are they? But ferrets definitely are. I mean, look at my picture, am I cute or what?

Whenever humans looked at me and my friends, they stopped in their tracks, peered into our cage, and said, “Oh look at these adorable ferrets!” They would comment on our pretty little pink ears, tiny black beady eyes, pert little pink nose and short little legs.

(To be continued)

Debbie - a children's book

LOOK LOOK LOOK !!!

Here it is ... the approved cover for  "Debbie".

Isn't it cute?

This children's book will be available on March 30, but pre-orders are accepted.  

Hop over to http://robintidwell.wordpress.com/2013/03/14/introducing-debbie/?utm_source=twitterfeed&utm_medium=facebook for more information.

Later on this afternoon Rocking Horse Publishing  will provide details.

Soon to be released

I have a bit of news.  Very exciting news. 

My children’s book “Debbie” has been accepted by Rocking Horse Publishing  and will be released on March 30. 

The book currently in the editing process, while an illustrator is hard at work sketching drawings to go along with the story, and ideas are being tossed back and forth for the cover art.

I wish I could tell you a bit more about “Debbie” but I don’t want to let the cat out of the bag just yet. 

Tell you what though, to give you a bit of an appetizer.  Here are the first 100 words.

Hi there!

My name is Debbie, and I’m a ferret.

You know what a ferret is, right? Have you ever seen a picture of a ferret? Please don’t say that ferrets look like rats. I’m nothing like a rat, and I’ll take it as insult if you compare me to one!

For starters, rats are rodents, while ferrets are more highly evolved in the animal world.

Rats are very active creatures, always scurrying after something.

Ferrets have a much more relaxed lifestyle. We like to take things easy. Did you know that we sleep, on average, 17 to 20 hours a day?

As you might have guessed, “Debbie” is about a ferret.  A very friendly and very curious ferret.  Want to know more?

Come back tomorrow and I’ll tell you a bit more about Debbie.  

Are we civilized human beings, or bloodthirsty killers?

Tana C posted a message and a picture on Facebook today, showing off the hunting rifle she just bought.

In light of recent violence and stricter gun laws, I thought this was in poor taste.  Of how many shooting have we heard lately? 

Being anti gun, anti violence and certainly anti hunting, I posted a comment in reply to Tana’s announcement.

The comments that followed were divided.  Some shared my views on gun possession, those in favor of guns clearly sided with Tana.

Tana herself defended her gun ownership and hunting actions by stating “Deer and elk provide food for my family”.

No arguing with that, but … just how much does the deer and elk she’s about to shoot cost her? 

I did a little research and found that the rifle Tana bought (a Savage 7 mm + scope) costs $599.  A box of 20 bullets goes for $20.  A hunting license set her back $219 per acre.  Total cost: $838.

I don’t know about you but $838 puts a lot of food on my table.

That’s not all though.  A hunter needs to wear camouflage and needs a hunting knife.  Let’s estimate that at another $200.

Once the animal is processed it needs to be frozen.  One needs a massive chest freezer to hold that much meat.  Shall we say $300 for that appliance?

Grand total: $1338.

Tana also stated that the animal she kills and eats is hormone free, unlike some of the meat that ends up in the supermarket.

While this might be true, there are other things to consider.  

Veterinarians inspect whether animals are fit for slaughter and once killed the Ministry of Health sends their inspectors to verify that meat is disease free and handled and stored in hygienic conditions.

While the deer that Tana shoots might be hormone free, what condition is he in?  He might be sick, he might have eaten contaminated food or drank polluted water.

Fact is, some people pretend hunting provides food for their families and that wild animals are more healthy, but that just an excuse.  It’s the kill they like.  They like to dress up.  They like going back to basics.  They like picking up a gun.  They like the power it gives them.

People will claim that some states are overcrowded with deer and that hunting is necessary to keep down the numbers.  In that case, the hunting rule not to shoot female deer makes no sense.  If anything, it’s the females that should be shot, because they are the ones reproducing.  If there were more male than female dear, there would be less offspring next year and the year after.

I’m against hunting and I make no secret of it.  I’m against the slaughter of animals too, but there are certain things in life that one just cannot change. 

If gun control ever kicks in, maybe the ban should include hunting rifles too.

Are we civilized human beings, or bloodthirsty killers?