Growing up on a farm, I witnessed a great deal of animal
abuse by people passing by our twenty-acre farm. I would
like to share with you some of my experiences:
* ROCKING THROWING IS A GREAT SPORT. Rock throwing was a
popular sport of the youngest vsitors. The point of the
game was to see who could hit one of the animals first. The
cows made the best targets because of their size and
lumbering movements.
* ANIMALS MAKE GREAT TARGETS. Christmas was another joyous
time when teens received their first BB guns. Aiming and
hitting an animal was the same as shooting a bulls-eye
target. Their squeals of joy were heard across the farm. My
dad spent many hours trying to heal the bleeding holes in
the animals - many BBs never recovered, infections ensuing.
How I wish they could have watched the senseless pain they
caused the animals and my family.
* GARBAGE IS A YUMMY SNACK. Children weren't the only ones
who wreaked havoc on the farm. Even the simplest, careless
act would lead to harming an animal. In the later years,
our farm was surrounded on three sides by sub-divisions.
Although garbage pick-up was available, neighbors bordering
us saw our farm as a dumping ground and a place to tromp
our hay down for their baseball games. I never understood
as our family drove along the fence lines throwing our
neighbor's garbage into the back of our pickup truck why
they weren't humiliated by their deeds. It has never
stopped to amaze me looking back at this time, how they
thought they benefited by their acts. They could still see
the garage over the chain-link fence. Why not gaze upon the
beauty of a green field instead?
As the cows and horses grazed the pastures during different
seasons of the year, an interesting morsel of nails,
plastic bottle caps, or the remnants of a ham sandwich in a
plastic baggie would catch an animal's eye or be eaten with
a mouthful of tasty alfalfa. I remember helping my father
inject magnets down the cow's throats with a bolus to
collect as much iron and steel as possible. This was to
prevent punctures in their stomachs. The iron and steel
caused Hardware Disease or peritonitis. The magnets would
hold the metal in place and cellulous would wrap around it
much like a pearl in an oyster.
* ROCKS BREAK MORE THAN WINDOWS. This garbage practice
over the fence did nothing to help the flow of farming.
Despite regular collections by my family, garbage magically
appeared continuously, including rocks which couldn't
always be seen in a stand of alfalfa. These "gifts" from
our neighbors damaged and broke our farming equipment of
bailers, rakes and plows - costing valuable time and loss
of crops for the animals.
* PETS ARE LIKE FAMILY. Being a dog lover, the episodes
we suffered with the dogs caused my heart to ache the most.
One of my favorite dogs in my youth was Duke, a blue
heeler. Despite the name, Duke was a female. She was a
protective dog even to us kids and she worked the sheep and
cattle like a pro.
One summer day, Duke crawled to the back porch door,
whimpering. We found her on the steps, a bullet in the top
of her head. My father was an excellent veterinarian
without ever having had any formal training. Somehow, he
miraculously managed to save Duke's life. She was never the
same after that. We soon realized there had been some brain
damage to her.
One day my dad and I, along with Duke, hauled a load of our
neighbor's garbage to the dump. Duke rode in the truck by
my feet. When my dad left to rake out the back of the
truck, I reached down to pet her head. She lunged at me,
knocked the glasses from my face, and bit my cheek and
eyelid. The blood poured profusely from the bite. I was
shocked by the act of my once protective, loyal friend. But
as young as I was, I still understood. The love for this
dog was strong in me and I didn't want her to get into
trouble with my dad. I searched the glove compartment for
tissues or towels to cover my injured face but to no avail.
I wiped the blood on my jeans and on the Naugahyde roof of
our old 1964 Ford pick-up truck.
I quickly turned my head so my father wouldn't see me as he
stepped into the truck. He noticed the blood on my jeans
and the roof of the truck instantly. He turned my face
toward him and stared at me in disbelief. My words were
soft, "Please don't be mad at Duke." We returned home and I
was never to see Duke again. I asked my dad where she had
gone, and he told me she had wandered off. In my heart, and
by the pain in his eyes, I knew what had truly happened.
* DOGS AND CARS. Over the years we had many dogs on the
farm. Although many of our animals were injured by careless
acts, some were deliberately ran over by people speeding
along the road.
All of these acts proved painful and senseless over the
years. I am happy that most of the states have passed the
law that animal abuse is a federal offense. Alaska, Idaho,
Mississippi, North Dakota and South Dakota have still not
passed this law. If you live in these states, please
contact your senators and representatives today.
So far in my books, I have included dogs and also deal with
the subject of animal abuse. It is an issue close to my
heart. I hope through this article and my books people will
come to understand that animals are not targets.
----------------------------------------------------
Animal abuse is a topic Cindy A. Christiansen finds close
to her heart and she writes about in her books. You can
find out more information at her website:
http://c.a.dragonfly.googlepages.com
EasyPublish this article: http://submityourarticle.com/articles/easypublish.php?art_id=55191
0 comments
Post a Comment