On November 28, Commissioner Roger Wolfson, one of Mayor Eric Garcetti’s appointees to the Los Angeles Animal Services’ Commission, brought a group of “experts” and speakers to convince the Commission to approve changing all LA city shelter dogs to a meatless diet. […]
Wolfson’s invited-speakers/experts included a civil-rights attorney; Cheri Shankar, a volunteer fundraiser for the Mayor, who is also a member of the Board of Directors of The Humane Society of the U.S. (HSUS) Legislative Fund, several veterinarians, and techno-artist Moby.
Who in blazes says dogs are omnivores? I should tell my healthy 12 year old chocolate lab that she is going to go vegan; I think her response would be “how about just euthanizing me the old fashioned painless way?”. Dogs will become omnivores due to lack of animal, or in the case of my girl fish protein to eat. She likes tuna and salmon, a lot, and they have kept her at a healthy weight and far from the vet, which she also likes. Being a lab she will eat anything and everything she can gain access to, but vegetable proteins don’t digest well at all. This is my experience, not my opinion.
Why not? Why shouldn’t government shelters provide “healthy” meals for dogs? This is the same government (and Humane Society) that has obtained LEGAL rulings to bestow HUMAN rights to pets. Determining that pets are EQUAL to people. So why shouldn’t pets be given “healthy” “sustainable” diets … same as people? We often ask the question about LOONEY legislation … “where will this all end?”. Well … here’s one of your answers. Killing pets with “kindness”. Killing pets with the anthropomorphizing of them.
Timothy Treadwell (and his girlfriend) DIED as a result of anthropomorphizing Grizzly Bears. Naming the Bears and ascribing human emotions to them. Then they got eaten. So now, it is time for the LA government to turn the tables and kill some dogs. Both are the result of some form of mental illness. Mental illness propagated by the lunatic asylum known as the American Humane Society.
BTW … the cretin responsible for this is surnamed “Wolfson” … my instincts tell me this is not the name he was born with … but a legally changed name memorializing his “oneness” with the animal spirits. I suspect he might even be an “indigenous” American. I view him as a mental patient, who should NEVER be allowed to own a firearm.
My dog is thrived on a diet of watercress sandwiches made with gluten-free bread. For some reason, he kept running away from home, so I sold him to a product testing laboratory.
Had a hippy tenant once. Said they put their German Shepherd on a vegetarian diet and it made him “So docile.” No kidding.
My dog eats Bounce dryer sheets. He says it gives him spring fresh breath.
Loved my dog. Had him for 13 great years. But he was not a ‘member of the family’ with the same status as my kids.
When I first got him, I sat him down for a serious talk. Part of which was that I wouldn’t spend thousands of dollars on vet bills. He understood that $300 was his limit and fortunately he never tested it.
I have a family member (by marriage) who has two turtles, which she’s had since she was a child. Over the last couple of years she’s spent over $16,000 in vet care and told me she had contemplated flying a ‘turtle specialist’ vet from Tennessee to Vancouver.
My daughter refers to her dog as our ‘granddog’ – which I always dissuade her of. But then I’ve never liked people referring to family friends as ‘uncle’ or ‘auntie’ either.
Guess I’m funny that way.
Our dog is a member of the family. The first member, by a very long margin, who in the case of famine, will be eaten by the rest. Because he’s not a person.
Guff, Toon … you’ve both restored my faith in humanity. I know this is a sensitive subject, and hope that Kate doesn’t ban me for questioning the “humanity” of her show dogs, er, show companions, er, show children, er, er, er … I better stop.
Having said all that … my last dog (the wife isn’t ready to let me have another one yet) … Jozie… was a beautiful, wonderfully tempered Bernese Mt. Dog who … I too, had an arrangement with … in that I made her put a paw print on a DNR certificate. Sorry, Jozie but $300 is my Vet. limit (too) … cause … well … you’re a dog.
Then it happened. The front door was left open (by a child of mine who shall go unnamed) and Jozie got out without anyone noticing. We searched for a full day, canvassing the neighborhood looking for her. Calling the Pound, everything … to no avail. Dumb unluck… I had BATHED her the night before (dried her, groomed her -quite a chore for a Bernese) and hadn’t put her collar (and tags) back on … so she couldn’t be identified. Uggh. Well, we got a call back from a Vet Emergency Hospital telling us that they had Jozie, but that she was in ROUGH shape. I raced to the PRIVATE Vet. hospital (where the local Pound had sent her) … and found her laying on the floor, with multiple lacerations, broken foreleg, and shattered jaw. Seems she was hit by a car on a busy nearby road (and had her snout partially run over). Yet, when she saw me and heard my voice … she tried to lift her shattered head and wag her tail at “her masters” presence. I was crushed. Yes, I actually cried. She didn’t deserve this, and WE HUMANS had let her down by making such a dumbass, idiotic, selfish, lazy, mistake. I asked the Vet./Surgeon specialist about her prognosis and he said that he could repair all the damage, and told me that dogs are amazingly resilient and that her personality should remain intact … but … $ cha-CHING!!$$£¥€€€!!!! So I spent more to fix her than my first 3-automobiles combined (I was poor, so they were all beaters) … but … the toatal nearly made it to 5-figures. It gave us another 3+ years with her before the cancer struck … at which time we … “made her comfortable”. I am about as pragmatic, and financially conservative as anyone … but … am still surprised at myself for the emotional bond I had with the ol’ gal. We all still miss her cheery disposition.
On the other hand … we still have a couple House cats … out back in our own suburban pet semitary. The maple tree is growing quite vigorously
Well, seein’ as they have moby on board. That changes everything. 😉
LOL !!! oh lordy, I thought it was only my black lab that would pig out every time.
she was the only one who could outdo me.
my mastiff, he likes carrots and stuff.
as long as they are slathered in olive oil. or beef tallow.
and kenji, my intro to the Burmese came in Burlington when the neighbor’s dog got curious and heaved the fence up sose he could pay a visit to the new folks next door. adorable.
I got a sign up in my house cautioning tenants if the EVER hit any animal in the house it WILL turn into INSTANT eviction.
owning a DOG is the ‘acid test’ of one’s humanity.
I know exactly how you felt about your dog.
My parents had dachshunds for many years and each of them was like a member of the family. Whenever one went on to the dog kennel in the sky, they mourned as the critter’s departure left a hole in their lives. Fortunately, that hole wasn’t permanent and it was soon filled by successor (in one case, it was two) and the whole process of housebreaking and training began all over again.
My father died last year and my immediate concern was for his dog. They had become inseparable after my mother died and it became my responsibility to give him a good home.
After the police investigated what happened to my father, they took the little guy to the local SPCA. Word soon reached a lab tech at the vet clinic and she took him in, partly because she likes dogs (she and her husband have several) also because she treated him whenever my father brought him in so they knew each other.
The first few weeks after my father died were filled with worry and anxiety about what to do with the dog. One night, she called me with an offer to adopt him. It took me about a minute or so to agree.
I’ve seen him a few times since then. He’s clearly happy at his new home, so I fulfilled my duty to him, even though that home isn’t mine.
But he’s equally glad to visit me at the house. He can’t wait to play “fetch” with me as that’s his favourite activity.
The time, sadly, will come when he will go to his reward. I know I’ll mourn his passing.
I have a 16-year old female cat who is attached to me like my right arm. When I’m gone for any significant amount of time and arrive home, she follows me around and howls until I pick her up and cradle her like a baby, upon which she reaches up with her front paws, grabs me around the neck and nuzzles and nips my neck and chin. Never bites or gets skin, she’s darn careful. She’s been like that with me since she was a kitten. Interestingly enough, she doesn’t do this to my wife or anyone else. She’s very dog-like in her affection towards me. When bedtime comes around, she races me to the bed, jumps up and claims her spot next to my head, another behavior since kitten-hood. I can tell you when her time to depart this world arrives, I’m going one big blubbering man-mess of tears.
It’s hard for non-pet people to understand the emotional bond that can develop between a person and a dog or cat. Based on the behavior of my old girl, I think it can be a two-way street.
Back to the topic – knew a hardcore libtard vegan who tried to turn her cat vegan. Cats are obligate carnivores. You can imagine how things turned out for the poor cat..
Sweet … I tend to get more aloof mousers … real badass killer-cats … whose only show of affection (like my last one) was to literally hurl the stunned, half dead carcass of mice and rats against the glass of my patio French doors to receive my effusive praise (and treats, like leftover chicken – bone free). He would grab the rat by the tail, and with a whipsaw head shake … fling … the carcass against the glass. With a massive thump against the glass. It would scare the crap out of me at first. I’d turn on the porch light … and there he stood … proudly displaying his gift for me. I had to be careful opening the door … because many times … the severely wounded mice and rats would dart into the house and under the couch. Note to mice (in the voice of Robert Redford portraying Jeremiah Johnson): … “it won’t save anything”. Hiding the kids in the corn crib (or a mouse under my couch) … won’t save anything. It will end badly for all the hiders. He and I had a real … guy-to-guy … relationship. He expressed his LOVE through hunting and sharing of the spoils.
He could be affectionate … but very randomly and seldom … and on his timetable. But I do enjoy the cuddlers like yours.