I hope this finds you, my readers, enjoying a happy and safe weekend full of cats, books, and restfulness. And a big thank you to those of you who are working while others rest and play.
CATS AND KITTENS
If you are on Twitter, please go to @urgentpodr, @urgentcatstampa, @mustlovecatsnyc, @cobbkitties, @cutepetsriverside, @cutepetsadamsco, @cutepetsdenver, @southernpinesms and all others you can to retweet their cat tweets to help those cats find homes. Pledges will often help a cat survive a kill pound as they help rescues have the money to save a cat who isn’t to be saved in time by adoption or foster. (Tonight — for one example — there are 7 great cats and kittens on death row in New York City’s kill pound alone! They are in immediate danger at noon Eastern time.) Facebook also has cat information and groups.
It is terrible that the United States has so many pounds that kill lost cats, stolen cats and the cats of the poor. Many times when you read a cat’s biography you will realize that they were SEIZED when the humans were evicted and those who cannot pay their own rent are unlikely to have $75-200 to save their cats or other pets. Two benefits of getting rid of kill pounds will be that more “shelters” will become actual shelters & not Orwellian mischaracterizations and THEY WILL NO LONGER BE PLAYGROUNDS (and training grounds) FOR THOSE WHO LOVE TO KILL.
“Who could kill a kitten?” someone asked me when I was beefing about those who kill these great pets on a “death row” schedule? GREAT QUESTION. THE ANSWER IS ALWAYS PSYCHOPATHS. THERE IS SOMETHING WRONG WITH ANYONE WHO CAN KILL A KITTEN! Or any other animal that is NOT endangering their very lives.
VETERANS / WWI
This Veterans’ Day weekend here is one of the great World War I poems and a web site with a bit more about it:
IN FLANDERS FIELD by John McCrae
In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.
We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields.
Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.
Here is a bit more on IN FLANDERS FIELDS courtesy of: