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The Noble, Gentle Greyhounds of Spain in the Wrong Hands

Lori Kalef
SPCA International

In the south of Spain, there is a form of hunting hares where the hunters use Spanish Greyhounds, or Galgos in Spanish, as weapons to find their prey. This form of hunting is forbidden in each of the European Union countries through their domestic animal protection laws, but unfortunately Spain still lacks these regulations.

Roy is one of the lucky ones. With your signature on the international petition (http://bit.ly/1egDtIr), we can make a difference and change the lives of many more greyhounds than only Roy and a handful of others.Roy3

Tens of thousands of Spanish Greyhounds have the misfortune to be born into the wrong hands of these hunters each year. These noble animals are used strictly as tools during the hunting season, which begins in the early fall and ends in February. They are then discarded in the most barbaric manner, which many hunters believe will bring prosperity for the following season’s hunt. The dogs are often beaten, burned, buried alive, doused with acid, thrown into wells, or tortured in other ways. Some die slowly by a method the hunters refer to as ‘the pianist’ method—tying the neck of the dog to a tree and allowing the back feet to barely touch the ground. The dogs move and jump for days struggling to stay alive, their front paws swaying back and forth resembling the playing of a piano. It is estimated that 60,000 Spanish Greyhounds are killed each year.

During the training season, Spanish Greyhounds are forced to run for hours and miles in the hot sun, their leashes tied to moving trucks. They are kept with the most minimal amount of shelter, food, and hygiene to survive. Many hunters believe starving their hunting dogs keeps them hungry for the hunt and more effective.

Behind every Greyhound’s life in Spain, there is a story of cruelty. When Roy was found on a roadside, he was barely alive. His lifeless body, covered in scars and lacerations.Roy had given up, his eyes remained closed, his body limp as his rescuers examined him. His rescuers brought him to SPCA International’s partner shelter in Spain, SOS Galgos, where he received emergency life-saving treatment and care.

Roy’s history is not uncommon, and he was fortunate to be found when he was. Thanks to organizations like SOS Galgos, a non-profit organization fighting to defend the rights of Spanish Greyhounds like Roy, and SPCA International, the plight of the Greyhounds of Spain will one day improve.

SPCA International– http://www.spcai.org/ — and SOS Galgos — http://sosgalgos.com/?lang=en –are working to improve animal welfare legislation and promote education and awareness sensitizing people to the warm and gentle nature of the Spanish Greyhound. This past March marked a memorable time in history for the Spanish Greyhounds. SPCA International and SOS Galgos, along with other animal protection organizations in Europe, met with the Spanish Congress of Deputies in Madrid to lobby on behalf of all the voiceless Greyhounds. Two hours were dedicated to the welfare of the hunting dogs in Spain in hopes of one day passing laws forbidding this torture.

Please help support the fight to eradicate this appalling tradition by signing SPCA International’s petition.  http://spcai.org/help-us-stop-the-horrific-torture-of-greyhounds-galgos-in-spain.html  Together we can create change! Roy2

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Honey Badger Houdini…rethinking animal intelligence

James Ellis, BBC Two

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Ollie & Spuds – Chapter 5

© 2014 Carolyn Cott

Chapter 5 – The Morning Sun Sparking Off Her Fur

Spuds sits in the one beam of sunlight slanting in between the tall buildings. Suddenly she feels her paw needs washing, so she does that. There’s a spot on her back that makes her skin twitch, so she attends to that. Then she curls into a tight circle, wraps her tail neatly around her front paws, closes her eyes and doses.

Ollie trots down the sidewalk, turns into the alley, and stops. The ginger-colored cat is there, the morning sun sparking off her fur. She appears to be sleeping, but her ears move toward his direction. Ollie thinks of the other cats he’s seen. The skinny cats with hissing voices that live in another alley. The next door cat at the house, who had perched on the half-wall between the backyards and glared at him, the tip of his stripy tail twitching. Then he remembers-hears his children’s high voices, their clear-bell laughter. He feels their chubby arms around his neck. He closes his eyes and sighs loudly.

Spuds opens her eyes into thin lines and watches the dog, sensing him. There is sorrow and gentleness. She watches him for a moment longer, then makes up her mind. She rises, stretches slowly, and walks to him.

Ollie looks around wildly, seeking an escape route, but by then the cat is in front of him. With her tail held high, she raises her face and blinks at him once, twice, three times, slowly. With his breath held and his ears up in alert, he looks at her, then he drops his ears and almost smiles. Spuds takes another step toward him, curls her back into an arch and rubs against his nose. She purrs and does it again. Ollie takes a tentative slurp of her ear. Spuds shakes off the dog spit, then sits down and gazes at Ollie. Well, she conveys, what shall we do?

Ollie looks toward the back end of the alley where he sleeps and thinks, sleep, but then reconsiders. He hadn’t found anything but a torn-off piece of crusty pretzel last night and was hungry. He looks at Spuds, licks his chops in answer, and they trot out of the alley. Ollie leads them down the street some distance and into an alley. There Ollie sits down beneath a fragrant-smelling dumpster and looks pointedly between the dumpster and Spuds.

Spuds calculates the distance, crouches, and in one fluid motion jumps to the rim of the dumpster and into it. She emerges with the remnants of a chicken thigh between her teeth and deposits it at Ollie’s feet. He chomps into it, and when he’s mostly done he remembers the cat, backs up a pace, and stands guard while Spuds finishes the feast.

She washes her face while Ollie paces. We have to get out of here now. Ollie looks at Spuds. People will be coming soon. Not nice people.

They slip out in the street and run toward the home-alley, pausing only to lap up some dirty water pooled beneath a downspout. Then they dart into the alley just as more and more cars and trucks are rumbling by. Ollie walks to his pile of rags and cardboard, uses his nose to burrow in, circles three times and lies down. With his head resting on his paw he looks at Spuds: come here. Spuds walks toward him, gracefully jumps up beside him, and nestles into the crook of Ollie’s hind leg. As she drifts toward sleep she realizes this is the first time she’s felt something like comfort in a long time. She lifts her head, gives Ollie a lick, then settles into safe sleep.

to be continued….

Chapter 1: https://untoldanimalstories.org/2014/02/15/ollie-spuds-chapter-1/
Chapter 2: https://untoldanimalstories.org/2014/02/21/ollie-spuds-chapter-2/
Chapter 3:  https://untoldanimalstories.org/2014/05/04/ollie-spuds-chapter-3/
Chapter 4: https://untoldanimalstories.org/2014/05/09/ollie-spuds-chapter-4/

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Ollie & Spuds – Chapter 4

© 2014 Carolyn Cott

One evening during Spuds and her kittens’ wanderings, they came to a building from which came a chorus of meows and barking. Spuds listened closely. There was a question in each of the sounds, some complaining, but not fear. In a few of the voices she heard glee.

For the next three days she ventured out on her own during the daytime, hiding in the shrubbery and watching that place of meows and barks. People came and went, some bringing animals in—those people were teary with contorted faces. Some brought animals out—those people were happy and chattering to the bewildered-looking cat or dog. Spuds caught sight of one cat in a box with small metal crisscrossed bars. The cat’s feet were splayed out in front of him, bracing against movement, but his gaze was more curious than anything.

A van came and went often, spilling out a large man stuffed into a uniform with many pockets and shiny buttons. His face was always serious. The dogs he brought in on leashes were skinny and mangy and haunted looking. The cats were yowling. Just wait, communicated Spuds silently from her hiding place, just wait: you’ll be fine.

After the third day Spuds gathered her brood over a feast of two freshly caught mice. When the kittens had finished their meal and Spuds had crunched through the remains of bones and tails and toes, after all of them had washed their faces with their paws and were content, she told them her plan. They listened, then slept.

When the moon was still high between the buildings, Spuds nudged the kittens awake. Yawning and stretching, they meandered after her. She settled them down together beneath a bush by the front door of the place of meow and barks, and waited. As the sun rose pink, Spuds licked the face of each of her babies and looked into their eyes, trying to convey a lifetime of love. When each kitten held her gaze and blinked slowly, Spuds moved to the next.

People started coming to the building, sharp, purposeful footfalls clicking on the pavement. Spuds saw the man in the uniform come up the walk. She nudged the littlest kitten out from under the shrub and told her to meow. The kitten did, and the man looked down. Spuds nudged the other kittens, and they followed their sister.

The man looked down and sighed. He scooped up all four of the kittens in his meaty arms and then saw Spuds. He called over his shoulder to a woman coming up the walk. She reached beneath the bush to grab Spuds, but Spuds eluded her grasp. The woman ran after her, but Spuds was faster. Before turning the corner, Spuds looked back toward her babies, watching as the last stubby orange tail disappeared through the door. She had a moment of panic, then darted under a fence and was gone.

Spuds has a hard time getting comfortable at night without the kittens to curl around. She misses her babies terribly. She holds onto a hopeful image: someone taking care of them, giving them warmth and food and water and comfort. With that picture in her mind, she can let go and sleep. But her first thought upon waking is of them: the way the sun shone on their orange fur, their ticked whiskers alternating white and tan to the tips, their small tails, fuzzy and broad at the base and tapering to a point.

She spends nights wandering around, half-heartedly hunting for food, nibbling at some tidbits in the dumpster. Maybe she should have gone in with her kittens, she thinks. She turns that split-second decision over and over in her mind, not clear why she had turned and fled. But it’s too late now.

to be continued….

Chapter 1: https://untoldanimalstories.org/2014/02/15/ollie-spuds-chapter-1/
Chapter 2: https://untoldanimalstories.org/2014/02/21/ollie-spuds-chapter-2/
Chapter 3:  https://untoldanimalstories.org/2014/05/04/ollie-spuds-chapter-3/

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You Can Save This Iraqi Kitten…Really

SPCA International
Picture 22Mike believed he would never see Lani again. When this ex-Marine left Iraq… he had to leave behind the little kitten he raised after finding her crying, alone in a gutter. Mike’s heart broke last June when he said goodbye to Lani. He thought she’d never survive Iraq without him. He was her protector. She was his best friend.But Lani DID survive. Mike’s buddy at the U.S. consulate recently emailed him and told him he’d seen Lani hanging around. This is the miracle Mike thought would never happen. And I can tell you that right now he’s hoping, praying that you will help him save the cat he loves from that miserable place and bring her home to him in the U.S.Yes, Lani is alive. We must rescue her and 17 other dogs and cats BEFORE June 1st. That’s when the airlines start their heat embargo in the Middle East. And we still haven’t raised enough money to get there, get every dog and cat, and get back home. If we’re not able to fund our mission, they face death. Maybe they won’t die today or next week. But believe me, it will happen. If not from the blistering heat, then from starvation or from torture at the hands of the locals. It doesn’t have to end that way. You can make sure they live by giving today.This is the moment that Mike– an ex-Marine who has bravely served and sacrificed, has been waiting for. I’m asking you to do what he wasn’t able to do last June – save his adorable kitten, Lani. Please give right now so that we can go to Iraq BEFORE the deadline of June 1st.   To DONATE $5 OR WHATEVER YOU CAN:  {click one line down if link is not visible} https://www.2dialog.com/spcai/main.php/micro_sites/showpage/id/44/package_id/1436/page_number/1With hope,

JD Winston
Executive Director
SPCA International

P.S. Mike will never see Lani again if we don’t go rescue her from Iraq before the June 1st heat embargo. Will you please give now – whether it’s $100, $50, or even $5 to save this little cat from certain death in Iraq? Thank you so, so much.
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Ollie & Spuds – Chapter 3

Chapter 3 – With that Picture in Mind, She Can Sleep
© 2014 Carolyn Cott

Chapter 1: https://untoldanimalstories.org/2014/02/15/ollie-spuds-chapter-1/
Chapter 2: https://untoldanimalstories.org/2014/02/21/ollie-spuds-chapter-2/

red cat from free digitalSpuds had no plan. By night she hunted. By day she slept. She moved from place to place, restless.

Spuds wandered eventually into the city. Spuds learned to spot potential danger and change direction instantly. She came across a band of other cats in the park tried to live with them, but they were as prone to fighting as they were to grooming each other. She left and eventually made her home in a partially crushed box in an abandoned trash pile. It was often bitter cold, but there were plenty of mice to hunt. Water was the issue. She had to learn to drink when it rained and went thirsty when it did not. When the water froze in winter, she went without for longer periods of time. It was difficult not to crave water; sleep was the only escape from that gnawing need, but sleep was never deep and sound—Spuds learned to keep part of her mind alert for danger even in sleep.

By the late winter, Spuds’ hunger and belly had grown. One cold morning she birthed four tiny kittens, three orange, and the tiniest a pale ginger.

Spuds had never loved as much as she loved her babies. The need for food increased, so she’d leave her kittens huddled together, first communicating to them soundlessly not to move, not to mew. She held the gaze of each of them, then trotted off to hunt for her family.

She came to an area where the air was fragrant with food, women’s high-heeled shoes clicked on the sidewalk, and men’s overcoat tails flew behind them in wind. There were shiny lights and big cars along the street, and fragrant alleys and dumpsters behind the buildings.

The next night she moved her kittens, one at a time, in her mouth, waddling as fast as she could through the streets, to their new home.   She nudged the kittens beneath a stack of wooden pallets. There was no cardboard to tuck into and the concrete was cold, but food was available. There were always trade-offs.

Spuds would jump easily up and into the dumpster, emerging with delicious tidbits she’d present to her kittens. Once the kittens had eaten, she would do so, and then they curled together, the whole lot of them purring. This was her happiest time.

As the kittens grew, Spuds couldn’t keep them sequestered, so they wandered around together with her searching for food. Twice she had to fight dogs to keep them safe. Once the smallest ginger-colored kitten barely escaped the wheels of a passing truck.

Spuds sensed the time was drawing near when the kittens would wander off and start their own lives. When they settled down to sleep together, she sent them mental pictures of the life she hoped they would lead: images of a warm fireplace, kind hands setting down bowls of food and water, a soft place to sleep, and safety, safety, safety.

to be continued…

Chapter 1: https://untoldanimalstories.org/2014/02/15/ollie-spuds-chapter-1/
Chapter 2: https://untoldanimalstories.org/2014/02/21/ollie-spuds-chapter-2/

photo by Dan courtesy of freedigitalphotos.net

 

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An Urban Intervention to Make the Invisible Visible

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Alex the Befriender

-19Written by guest blogger, Susanne Cott

Alex. He was something.  More, actually, than I could have asked for. Adopted in 1996, Alex was a male tabby with magnificent green eyes and an abusive past. We bonded, deeply. No matter where I was in the house, he sought me out and came to sit beside me. He dozed beside me as I slogged through the voluminous work of graduate school. He accompanied me through various ups and downs in my life. His level gaze brought me a sense of balance. His antics made me smile.

When family members came to live with us in 2009, two cats came with the package. One of them was a black cat named Raleigh, a fearful cat whom we sometimes referred to as a “special needs kitty.” Uncharacteristically of male adult cats, when Alex and Raleigh first saw each other, they simply looked at each other without hostility. They moved closer and closer to each other, and Alex accepted Raleigh into his home as his friend.

When it was time for Raleigh to move to his new home, he had a difficult time adjusting and hid in a closet of his new home for nearly a week. The decision was made to give Raleigh to me, and Alex and Raleigh became roommates. They were always around each other and loved to wrestle. In my memory, I can still hear their little playful meows.

Raleigh passed away unexpectedly, and young, in 2012. Alex was the only cat in the house then. He mourned his friend’s loss—I could tell—because he seemed uninterested in everything.

Several months later, we adopted two kittens—sisters—Tessa and Daisy. We were a bit worried about how Alex would feel having two new kittens in his house. True to his open-hearted disposition, he wasn’t unkind to them. One day, Alex was taking a nap on a sunny spot on the screen-in porch. Tessa sidled up to him and lay down up against him. Alex swung around and looked at her, then apparently decided it was okay. He closed his eyes and slept and Tessa did the same. snuggled up against him. Alex had a generous soul.

Alex greeted me at the door everyday, like a dog, when I came home from work. In the last couple of months of his life, he’d lost almost all of his hearing and I had to find him when I returned home. When I did, he invariably would glance up at me and greet me with an adorable little chirp-meow that sounded like hello.

By November of last year, Alex’s health had declined drastically and he was barely eating and drinking. The vet and I made the decision to euthanize him. We did so on November 29, and it was one of the hardest things I’ve had to do. He was, in many ways, my best friend.

Alex was buried alongside Raleigh in the backyard under the bird feeder, which they had spent countless hours watching through the screen. Above their graves there are a circle of stones and flowers, and the birds swoop in for their food.

I believe I will see Raleigh and Alex again one day. Alex and Raleigh, you will never be forgotten, and I love you both.

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Spay/Neuter and Vaccinate a Street Dog in India

India dogsfrom http://www.animalrescuesite.greatergood.com

Despite some of the strictest animal welfare laws in the world, thanks to its ancient spiritual philosophy of ahimsa (non-harming), India teems with animals on its streets, particularly dogs. With each litter born on the streets, canine overpopulation worsens, leading to malnutrition, untreated injuries, and the spread of disease, especially rabies.

Vishaka Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals (VSPCA) works to reduce the overpopulation of street dogs. In cooperation with the local government, VSPCA vaccinates against rabies and spays or neuters loose dogs. VSPCA’s veterinarians use sterile techniques, pre- and post-operation pain control, and gas anesthesia when possible.

Unlike pet dogs which owners bring in and take home after the operation, street dogs need to be humanely caught and kept for several days while they heal from their surgery, then brought back to the same place for release. This is a very specific practice that has to be done absolutely right — dogs haphazardly released into the wrong neighborhood can be killed by other resident dogs.

VSPCA’s program is one of the most advanced in India, and sterilizes an average of 40 dogs a day when operated by four veterinarians. All these dogs are vaccinated against rabies, and their ears are notched for identification and protection.

VSPCA is a growing and struggling operation that also provides emergency animal care and shelter. No other similar services for injured street animals exist in the area.

You can help VSPCA in its vital work. This Gift That Gives More™ vaccinates and spays/neuters a street dog in the Indian state of Andhra Pradesh.

https://theanimalrescuesite.greatergood.com/store/ars/item/31709/?adId=131065&placementId=362707&origin=

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Migrating elk herd and the little guy left behind…a happy ending