Sometimes I think I don't quite understand people at all, and most of my feelings are toward animals. It's cool enough just to spot one outdoors an watch it, but wow, it's such a crazy privilege to really know one and be trusted by it, and to be greeted with ridiculous enthusiasm each day. When I wake up with a dog's head on my shoulder I feel like the queen of the world.
So many animals everywhere having a horrific life---just seems to be worse all the time. To go to sleep at night I have to repeatedly tuck their faces aside and focus on stupid things...
Well, worrying doesn't help anyone. I should do more, but I do help several great organizations all I can. They don't just need money---they need letters/emails written to help things happen. You can check out a couple right here, but of course there are always shocking videos, so I'm warning you right now:
Humane Farming Association
An awful lot of people eat meat, and you can join them or hate them, but in the end it's most important for both sides to help end the torture. That's factory farming---all of the animals penned up inside in horrid conditions. This is not a site to promote vegetarianism, but it might inadvertantly convert folks.
The Humane Society of the United States
Lotsa good. Lotsa different ways.
The SPCA international
Hey, help the soldiers bring their adopted pups back from overseas.
The SPCA Texas
They are stretched so thin that they can't even take in animals right now. Ugh.
And now a good event:
At the factory where my brother-in-law works, a stray cat had babies in a box in a warehouse. After a bit the mom moved the babies elsewhere, and those boxes were closed and put on shelves. Days later someone was reopening some of the boxes and they found one of the kittens. It had been left behind---maybe the mom cat hadn't come back for that one yet when the boxes were being closed. So counting back, the guys knew that kitten had been closed in the box without food or water for TEN DAYS. It was ridiculously small/skinny, but still alive.
My brother-in-law took it to my sister, the veterinarian. She kept it at work and helped it come back to life. As it got well he began to be called "Possum," as he was curled up and playing dead in the box.
She's decided to keep Possum, and here he is, totally recovered:
Good news in a world of bad