I have been arguing with my husband about getting a dog since pretty much the day we met. I love animals. All animals. When we met I had one cat (Willow) and our relationship pretty much started when I convinced him that it would be a good idea to trap and adopt a feral cat that lived in the blackberry bushes by where he worked.
When we got married and were having the ‘are we going to have kids’ conversation, I told him that I would really be happy just getting a dog. He (jokingly) said that if I signed a legal document saying that I didn’t want to have children I could get a dog that day. My reply? ‘You show me where to sign, I really don’t even like kids!!’ I don’t think that is quite what he was expecting, considering I had never really said anything about not being much of a kid person.
I didn’t get a dog the next day. Or the next month. I ended up getting 2 more cats over the next 4 years, and finally, finally when we bought our house 3 years ago, he agreed that I could get a dog ‘if the right one came along.’ Don’t get me wrong, he is a huge animal lover also, but he knows that if I am given any kind of leeway when it comes to getting one animal, I will come home with 2 or 3.
I was given a list of things that I agreed to adhere to in my dog search (housetrained, preferrably female, spayed, would rather not have a puppy, and that it had to be from a rescue agency or shelter somewhere) I am flexible, I can work with what I’m given. And if it meant looking hard to find all those things in a dog, then I would do it.
Just before Christmas of last year I put in an application for a dog with the BC Poodle Rescue (www.bcpoodlerescue.ca) She was a tiny little poodle, and met all of the things I had agreed to look for. It wasn’t to be though, as her foster mom had also applied to adopt her only days before. They suggested I go look at another dog, she had come in from California and they thought it might be a good match. So, on my lunchbreak from work I drove out to Central Saanich to look at this dog. I had been told that she had kennel cough and was malnourished, but was not expecting it to be as bad as it was. The dog was literally skin and bones. She had no fat at all, and I could feel every bone in her body. Every rib, every vertebrae in her spine, I could even feel the joints where her body and legs met, where there is normally fat and muscle. It broke my heart. She was so timid, so shy, but I sat down on the floor and after about 5 minutes she came over and carefully climbed into my lap and pushed my hand with her nose so that I would pet her. I left the house thinking that she wasn’t my dog, she was too sick, too shy. I called my husband telling him that no, this was not our dog either. Then I spent the entire weekend stalking her picture on the website, making sure that she hadn’t been adopted. I went back to see her again the following week, told the foster mom that yes, I would be taking her, and made arrangements for picking her up on boxing day.
When I brought her home she had gained a small bit of weight, but was still really sick. The kennel cough wouldn’t go away, she was on heavy duty antibiotics, and my husband spent the first week of her life with us sleeping on the couch, so that I could sit up all night in bed with the dog who couldn’t stop coughing, wheezing, and throwing up.
Fast forward 6 months. Looking at pictures you would never know it is the same dog. Her kennel cough has completely dissappeared, despite the vet telling me that it was the worst case of kennel cough he had seen and she would probably always have a bit of a cough. Where I had to hand feed her, she now eats everything and anything in sight. She could barely stand, she now hikes with me and loves every minute of it. She used to be terrified of people, now she waites for people to come visit and see her. It is amazing what a bit of love can do. When we got Sasha, she had all but given up. When she came into Canada from the States, she couldn’t even stand. Her legs would not support her body. When we got her she was better, but not by much. Now she is living a happy and healthy life, and waking up each morning ready to take on the day.
You may ask what this has to do with being vegetarian. Directly, nothing. However it is simply and example of how people treat thier animals. Some people could care less. Others would go to great lengths to save the life of an animal, big or small. I am one of the latter. I have gone running down the street to rescue dogs that are running in traffic. 2 months ago I brought home a dog that I found wandering on my street. (He later got returned to his family) Regardless of if it is a dog, cat, cow, or pig, all creatures just want to live. They want to be happy, with full bellies, to be allowed outside to feel the sun and the wind on thier face. So how is it that we can put so much effort into saving some animals and making sure they are well cared for, well fed and loved, but then turn around and eat others for dinner?
Every now and then I falter, I think that maybe vegetarianism isn’t what I am cut out for, but I also remember why I am doing this. I don’t want to come across as preachy, telling everyone that they should not eat meat ever (it’s not my place to do that, and also it’s unrealistic) but if one person who reads this thinks that maybe they will choose a non-meat option for dinner, or braves a tofu dish, or even just nods thier head in agreement, then I will be a happy girl and it will make my journey even more worthwhile.
Vancouver Island Vegetarian 