Just because pets have fur doesn't mean they're able to survive sub-zero, horribly frigid Canadian winters, people.
As you can see from this issue of the Journal, there's a cat crisis that has hit Humboldt and the surrounding area. The Humboldt SPCA simply has no room at the moment to take in more cats, due to an influx of kittens that were born over the summer.
And, also because of dim-witted dummies who don't spay or neuter their pets and then let them out to spread their seed all over town.
Not to echo Bob Barker but seriously, get your pet fixed. I don't have to explain why it's important but needless to say, you really don't deserve to own an animal if you can't afford its upkeep - or are just too lazy to really take care of it.
I digress.
So, the dim-wits who didn't spay or neuter their pets have caused a little bit of a problem: there are cats and litters of baby kittens, right at this very moment as you're reading this editorial, who are freezing to death outside.
Huddled together for warmth, their bodies, especially the kittens', will not be able to fend off the icy temperatures for much longer.
Kittens themselves, for the first couple of weeks, can't produce their own body heat. Hence they pile up into one giant heap to keep each other warm or cuddle in close next to Mom.
But that won't work if they're already outside, scrambling to find shelter.
It's just too bloody cold.
So that's where we come in.
Seriously, have a heart.
It really disturbs me the number of people who just, plain and simply, don't give a rat's you-know-what about these animals.
Yes, sometimes they can trounce through your garden. And yes, sometimes they may spray on the side of your house.
But that means they deserve to freeze to death?
So of course, there's the group of people who don't care at all. Then there's the other group of people, only marginally better, who sort-of care but have limitations.
Case in point:
I won't say where but a woman posted on a social media site a photo of a kitten who kept coming to her back door.
Yes, a kitten. Small, harmless, adorable.
Completely fragile.
She said she was feeding it but refused to bring it inside because of allergies, although she noted it was obvious the "poor little thing" was getting cold.
I'm sorry but where the heck is the sensitivity chip for this woman? Allergies are a perfectly understandable reason to not keep a pet. But she couldn't have phoned a friend to take it? Or phoned the SPCA, who at the time, was not full. Or made a small bed for it in her garage while she tried to find a home for it?
No, she just kept it outside.
Sometimes people have other pets.
"I can't take it in, we already have too many animals."
Really?
You seriously couldn't find room for one other little cat or kitten to crash, just for the night? And then take it to a friend's house, foster care or even the vet in an emergency (or a close animal shelter) the next day?
Really?
"I can't take it in, my dog/cat doesn't like other pets."
Well tell him to suck it up for the night and keep the animal in a separate room, even the bathroom, with blankets and food.
Sure beats being outside when it's minus 30; heck, even I can't stand the cold when I'm out walking my dog for 10 minutes. I can't imagine how a small animal feels being outside that long.
But the worst are these people:
"I'd bring it in but I just don't really like cats."
How lovely. Here's a scenario:
Imagine you're driving in the thick of winter.
It's horribly cold, your windows frosted over, breath discernible even with the heat on high in your car.
Then suddenly, the car breaks down.
You're in the middle of nowhere. Sheets of thick, encroaching snow on either side of your car, stretching on for acres. Nothing else in sight.
Your fingers, your nose, your eyelids, are almost frost-bitten.
Your cell phone is dead, frozen from the sub-zero temperatures.
You start walking; you've got to find someone to help you out.
After trudging through the Antarctic conditions for miles and miles, such a long time that your calves are aching, your knees throbbing, lips chapped and bleeding, you finally see something in the distance.
The faint glow from a porch light.
It's a house.
"Thank heavens," you think. "Finally, I can get some help here. Maybe rest here for a bit, I'm just so damn cold."
You make it up the driveway and ring the doorbell, rubbing your red, scaly hands to keep warm.
Finally someone answers.
"Can I help you?"
"Yes, my car broke down and I'm really freezing here. Can I please come in, just to warm up?"
The owner of the house thinks for a minute.
Then, the door starts to shut.
"Sorry, I'm just not a people person."
Feels crappy, doesn't it?
CM
