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| Sunday, June 10, 2007 |
| Two weeks |
So, I'm on the two-week countdown to for the Korea trip.
Every time I sit down to post something, I suddenly lose any recollection of having done, seen, or thought anything blogworthy. I have been utterly unmotivated. What shall I blame this on? Inhaling too much pain-and-spakfilla dust while sanding the patches on the walls? Pre-travel jitters? Spending too much time thinking about moving overseas next year? Whatever it is, I have not been posting.
Next Saturday, the cats go for their rabies vaccinations so they can travel to the UK without having to do quarantine on arrival. Roswell also needs microchipping. One cannot take them to any old vet for this - we had thought we could just call our regular vet & give her some time to get the vaccine in, but no. They have to go to an AQUIS vet. So we tracked one down, and the cats are booked in for next Saturday, so I will take them back for their month-later blood test in July, and they can be ready to travel by January if need be. It was probably thinking about taking the cats with us that made me think of this story.
When Ata was Young Ata, one of the high-excitement outings she used to take was to the dump. I do realise that this does not SOUND exciting, but it was a very small town, and many interesting things could be found at the dump. Like bicycles with flat tyres, or radios that just needed batteries. And there was no kerbside garbage collection, so every now and then, one HAD to go to the dump.
On this occasion, Young Ata and her brothers were wandering about the edges of the giant pit where people threw their rubbish in - when full, the council would fill it over with dirt and dig a new one - keeping their eyes peeled for unlikely treasure. Ata's father was emptying the tray of the Hilux, quickly as possible to minimise the amount of time spent in the rising smell of garbage, and keeping half an eye on the kids to ensure they didn't wind up actually IN the dump. Young Ata was the one who heard it first, of course - a little mew, plaintive and lost in the heaps of garbage bags. She looked around, and spotted it - a ginger kitten, probably six weeks or so old. Ata's fondness for cats was firmly established by this point - her cat at home had been a street stray that her father brought home for her after it was found illegally entering the kitchen of the house he was visiting. The kitten spotted Ata at much the same time as Ata spotted the kitten. It's eyes lit up and it began scrabbling over the heaps of rubbish, calling excitedly - it was evidently used to living with people.
It was at this point that Young Ata's father called her to come and get in the car. Ata pointed out the kitten. Ata's father - not wanting to add another animal to the menagerie at home, much less a dump-kitten - insisted that she get in the car. Ata began dragging her heels towards the car, hoping that the kitten would reach her before she got there. Surely, if she had the kitten in her hands, her father could not say no. The kitten plunged into rubbish-valleys and clambered up rubbish-hills, checking at every hilltop that the people were still there and crying out in it's little kitten-voice. Overhead, crows wheeled and waited for the people to leave so they could continue scavenging among the unwantedness of human society.
The kitten was not fast enough. Ata got in the car and looked through the window as they pulled away. The kitten perched on a bag and watched them leave, it's little mouth still moving as it called out. Ata felt sad for the dumped kitten for a long time. Why take a kitten to the dump and leave it there, especially when it is a pretty and friendly kitten that would surely find another home? It will only grow up to be a bush predator - or die and be a meal for the crows. The unfairness still stays with her. Her mother expressed relief that she had not joined us on the dump-trip, as she would also have found it well-nigh impossible to leave the kitten behind, even though she did not want another cat at home. Ata looked for the kitten every time they went out to the dump after that, but never saw it again. Perhaps another family found it and took it away with them - Ata prefers to think of it as a fat, lazy pet than an unwated feral hunter preying on the local native lizard population.
Did I mention we have had a quote from a pet transport company to get the cats to the UK next year? Possibly this story goes some way to explaining why Ata is willing to spend a little over $3500 to take her cats with her.
She will, however, not mention the cost to her parents. |
posted by Ata @ 2:09 pm  |
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| 3 Comments: |
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Oh! That story is so sad... I wouldn't have been able to leave him there either. Poor little baby. I can't believe the vile nature of people who can abandon animals like that. Especially helpless and friendly ones that rely on people.
*sniff*
I understand why you're willing to spend that much, Ata. They're family. That makes them priceless.
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I get it as well. The reason I used to have rats is that a girl brought one to school for a joke, the teacher took it off her and declared he was going to drown it (seriously) so I demanded to have it and took it home, much to my mother's delight.
I don't get people who can just abandon pets without a worry at all. It's not right.
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Aw… Rats are very intelligent and make wonderful pets. They get a bad rap, poor things. They’re not all vermin. Yay Young J for taking pity on one. :)
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Oh! That story is so sad... I wouldn't have been able to leave him there either. Poor little baby. I can't believe the vile nature of people who can abandon animals like that. Especially helpless and friendly ones that rely on people.
*sniff*
I understand why you're willing to spend that much, Ata. They're family. That makes them priceless.