Compassion

 

Recently Nora sent me an email explaining how she got a little behind in her work.  Here it is with some of my parenthetical clarifications:

Dear Les,

Every evening for the last 15 years I carry or send food to a lady who is now 90.  She and her sister were very good friends of Maria's (Nora's adoptive mother who was a nationally known Cuban singer-songwriter).  They even played four-handed piano together.  The sister died, and I was left in charge of the lady who was then alone.  She is of poor eyesight, but strong minded.  She never forgot the building where she lives was built by her father in 1944.  She had a little wooly dog who died at 16, given to her by Aniplant's adoption program.  She and her sister were members of Aniplant since its founding (in 1987).  On the little dog's dying a few months ago and having such solitude and misery, she began to care for dogs by the day and by the hour—that is to day care them or to foster them.

But the reality is that who regularly attend those dogs are María Julia and myself.  (María Julia is Nora's friend who minds her household and pets when Nora travels or is tied up working.) Those dogs are well attended, and have no problems.  When Pablo was rescued from the streets, we had no place to take him as males can't go to Aniplant's headquarters.  Aló Presidente is the only male (and he doesn't take kindly to other "machos").  Foster care costs at least $3.00 a day, and those who usually do it ask for even more, so we decided to take Pablo to the old lady's place while he convalesces.  But as Pablo needs medical care, day by day, I take him for his treatment even sometimes twice a day.

Tuesday, on coming back from feeding the lady and playing with Pablo, who is very nice, I slipped on exiting the bus. It was dark and raining, and I broke my ankle. Now María Julia is attending him, as I can't until next Tuesday when I get a cast.  Then I think I can help.  I'll tell you.

Nora

This little vignette tells me a few things:

1.     Getting from one place to another in Cuba can be hazardous.

2.     In Cuba your best social safety net is your friends.

3.     It's tough to get old in any land, and it's certainly no picnic in Cuba.

4.     A dog in need is lucky if he falls under the protection of a compassionate person.

In Pablo's case, he has attracted the help of three compassionate women—Amanda the American who found him and will adopt him, Nora who cannot ignore a needy animal, and the 90 year old lady who is fostering him.

That word, compassion, needs some comment.  This story shows that true compassion is indivsible.  You can't be compassionate for one and not another.  It would be impossible to have real compassion for animals without some of it for people too.  Nora's email clearly demonstrates the scope of her compassion.  It isn't enough she has 12 dogs in her home, but she has 10 more at Aniplant's headquarters, runs an animal protection organization, and has time for a daily caregiver's visit with the old lady and Pablo.  María Julia has 8 dogs in her home as well.

True love can happen anywhere.

 

Les

Aniplant's Humane Heroes

Jeanette Ryder was a Wisconsin lady who married a doctor and moved to Cuba at the beginning of the twentieth century.  She was a compassionate woman who took pity on any suffering living being.  By 1906 she had formed the Banda de Piedad (band of pity or compassion), a group dedicated to alleviating the suffering of orphans homeless animals and accident victims.

She had the support of the government and with that and her own money and donations, the Banda de Piedad grew in importance in the Havana area and soon operated ambulances to pick up accident victims.  The group grew, and its good works made Havana a better place to live.  She died in 1931, but her charity lived on into the 1950's.

In 1957 The Cuban government issued commemorative stamps to honor Jeanette Ryder.  A 4 centavo stamp bearing the picture of a little boy and his dog and a 12 centavo stamp bearing the picture of Jeanette were printed side by side in sheets of 100 stamps, and arrangements were made with stamp collectors to mail a stamped envelope from Havana on the first of issue of the new stamps.  First day covers are coveted by collectors, and the envelopes often bear special markings having to do with the commemoration.

I can't recall how, but Charlene's computer work for TAP got her name on a stamp collector's website and linked her to an interest in Jeanette Ryder.  Since then we have been shown and acquired stamps, first day covers, the original postal order that established the commemorative issue, a pamphlet in Spanish and English giving historical information about Jeanette and Banda de Piedad, and even an original 10 x 10 stamp sheet of Ryder stamps.

A few years ago we decided that on behalf of Aniplant, TAP would produce The Jeanette Ryder Award to honor special people who have aided Aniplant in its humane work for animals.  The award is mounted in a picture frame displaying a pair of the stamps, a copy of the pamphlet, and a first day cover, along with plaques showing the name of the recipient.  The frame is fitted with glass on front and back so both sides of the pamphlet can be seen and read and so that all of the cancelations on both sides of the first day cover are visible.  Julie London, a Sarasota artist produced the awards.

The first Jeanette Ryder Award was given to Dr. Andrew Rowan, Chief International Officer of the Humane Society of the United States, and CEO of Humane Society International.  Dr. Rowan has been generous with his advice, support, and good wishes, and his Award was given to him on March 4, 2012, the date of the 25th anniversary of Aniplant's founding.

The second Jeanette Ryder Award was given in April, 2012 to Dr. Dick White, DVM of Dick White Referrals in England.  Dr. White has done charitable work for animals for many years, particularly in China and now in Cuba.  He has funded the establishment of a veterinary clinic in the Aniplant headquarters on Principe Street in Central Havana.  He is also conducting educational seminars for training Cuban vets.

Congratulations to both Dr. Rowan and Dr. White.  They surely deserve recognition as humane leaders in the vein of Jeanette Ryder, the Banda de Piedad, and of Aniplant itself.

Les Inglis

Writer's Block and Loving Animals

I wonder if all writers don't occasionally face writer's block.  I know I certainly do.  After nearly three years of weekly posting to this blog, I sometimes stare at a piece of paper and feel I have nothing to write.  Cuba and protecting its animals offers many opportunities upon which to expound, but sometimes in the midst of such richness I come up blank.

So it was last week when, after long consideration, I decided to write about "politically correct" language and how it even affects animal rightists.  I touched on scientists, the women's liberation movement, and race relations before getting to the language strictures propounded by animal rightists.  In particular I argued for thinking of my dogs and cats as little people—as if they were my children.  To me, the term, "pet," is an honorific denoting love and respect—much more so than the PC term, "companion animal."

I was glad to overcome my writer's block with this topic when I received a comment from my good Cuban friend, Maylin.  Maylin is a well-educated Cuban woman who, among other accomplishments, is a member of the Board of Directors of Aniplant.  She lives in the Havana suburbs.  She speaks Spanish and English fluently and is an excellent sequential interpreter.

Maylin's skill was the reason Nora suggested her as an interpreter for my keynote address last March at Aniplant's 25th anniversary celebration.  I can handle a short speech in Spanish well enough to avoid driving the audience out of the room, but I certainly wanted to do better than that for my talk at the anniversary.  Enter Maylin, who sat next to me at the head table, shared a microphone, and rendered my English words into correct, fluid Spanish.  She has also many times translated correspondence to help Nora, who does not speak English.

My blog on PC language had stimulated Maylin to tell me a story from her own past.  She began with her agreement that calling her pets "chicos" was a term of love and respect—much like the feelings she has for her son.  She went on to tell of her encounter with some young English speaking girls who clearly didn't respect animals.

But here it is in her words:

 

            DEAR LES:

 

            I have always referred to my dogs as "my chicos" which is something like my kids—not exactly             but you know, more or less.  People immediately ask me with a hint of sorrow, "Oh, you don't           have kids." That makes me sooo angry!!!  And I answer back clearly:  I have a son, a beloved          one...Meaning one human son, but I also have four legged kids, or chicos, they are MY DOGS!

 

            I have an anecdote I always remember.  One cloudy day I was on one of my neighborhood             errands injecting Ivomec into some poor dogs with mange that I had been treating and some             young girls, very nicely dressed, were staring at me as if I was an Extra Terrestrial. One of them     asked me why I did that, and I explained briefly.  Then the other, the fanciest one, spoke to her       friend IN ENGLISH thinking I was not able to understand, saying "poor thing, she could be crazy    because she certainly is old"

 

            It happens that they were English students at the University and thought themselves the real             queens of England.  Then I looked in the eyes of the one who spoke and said in perfect English:            It is a pity how ashamed of you dear William Shakespeare would be if...he had the opportunity to    hear your words and know your thoughts!  Certainly you should read him more to learn what the   word HUMANITY means.  If you prefer a more modern writer, I suggest another William, but this            time it is William Somerset Maugham because critics say that his novels and short stories are the           very soul of human kindness.

 

            I turned my back on them, and resumed my dog task.  I think they were speechless.

 

            Well, dear friend thanks always for your blogs.  Give my love to Charlene.

 

            MAYLIN

Politically Correct 

Years ago, in a board meeting for a large humane organization, I said something like "The dog in the street knows when he is hungry."  A friend suggested I should say "it" instead of "he."  He said that we wouldn't want to anthropomorphize the dog.  In this same vein, some stuffy scientific types want us to use "that" rather than "who" as a relative pronoun when referring to animals. My friend in the board meeting was suggesting it is unscientific to ascribe human feelings and emotions to an animal by using he, she, his, her or hers.

Well, after a career as an engineer, I'm as scientific as the next guy, but I admit I think of my dogs as little people.  I can tell when they are happy or sad—feel good or bad—and they can tell the same things about me.  Sorry, scientific world, but to me Peachy and Princess are like my kids, and I'll always think of those two girls as "she."

People try to manage the language to press their political points of view.  While we used to say (even though not very grammatically) "everyone has their favorite color," it saved us from assigning a gender to "everyone."  Some years ago the women's liberation proponents were fairly successful in getting us to use "his or her" in place of "their."  And they were pretty effective in doing away with "mankind" instead of using their preferred "humankind."  I'm sympathetic to this idea of equalizing the sexes.  I'll admit I like it lots better than trying to think of Peachy as an "it."

During my lifetime, we've run through a whole progression of words for blacks or African Americans.  Use the wrong word and you're sure to insult or hurt feelings.  I try to be especially sensitive to this stricture, and I hope I always will be.

Animal rightists are not above a little language tinkering.  They recoil at the word, pet, and insist upon "companion animal."  The idea is this elevates the status of the animal.  I've tried over the years to use "companion animal," but the word, pet, keeps working into my writings.  In no way does the awkward, Latinate phrase, companion animal, make my pet seem better.  My pet is something I love, caress, take care of, and defend.  After a very few humans, there is nothing I love more than my pets.

In one of my recent blogs, I talked about a new dog in our house as an "acquisition."  That drew a comment from a good friend, Diana, who pointed out that "acquisition" connotes purchase or ownership and non-human animals deserved better descriptions than that.  Diana, thank you; you're absolutely correct, and my use of the word was insensitive, especially for someone who has had pets his whole life and tries to be an advocate for animals.

For many years now, I've thought of myself as an animal rightist, but I've also come to realize that I don't always speak that language correctly.

Les Inglis

Gaining a Home and Family

 

Here's an often repeated scenario:

A tourist plans to spend a few days in Havana.  Perhaps she is part of a people-to-people tour, an educational tour about dance or music or art.  She checks in at Havana's Hotel Inglaterra right in the center of Central Havana and walking distance from lots of interesting places to see—the Capitolio, art museums, the ballet, Chinatown, and so on.

Every time she walks out of the hotel, she enters Central Park and makes her way through a surprising number of Cubans passing time in the park.  Many are all too ready to chat her up and try their soft swindles for money on her, but she avoids them.

From her first day in Cuba she has seen an inordinate number of dogs in public places—many in the park or near the hotel.  Mostly they aren't running or walking.  Like the human park goers, they are stationary—passing time.  One particular dog catches her eye each time she leaves or returns to the hotel.  It's a little dog, smaller than the US average like most Cuban dogs are.  It's none too heavy; in fact outlines of his ribs show through his fur.  Curled up near the base of one of the hotel's columns, she worries about how the little dog can live.  She asks a bellman about the dog, and he tells her it's a homeless dog like so many in Cuba.  She'd like to help it if she could, but doesn't know how.  She's leaving in a couple of days.  She snaps a few photos and brings him something to eat.

She gets back home and browses the Internet looking for a way to help the dog.  She finds The Aniplant Project website.  With the aid of her photos, Nora Garcia of Aniplant in Havana sets out to find the dog.

That's the scenario, and it happens a few times every year.  It sets into motion a search, which if successful leads to vet care, fostering, and adoption or, less frequently, rehoming to the US or Canada.

While Aniplant is an animal protection organization, it cannot address the individual needs of all of Havana's homeless pets, and it does not operate a homeless shelter for pets.  Still, they respond to those tourist inquiries about individual dogs, especially if they are sick or injured.  Instead, they endeavor to address Havana's homeless animal overpopulation with regular, massive, low-cost spay-neuter campaigns.  5000 such neutering operations were performed last year.

Animal advocates have long believed that sort of campaign is the only effective humane way to reduce populations of street animals.  But the rescued street dogs that are adopted or rehomed to other countries make heartwarming stories, and indeed we have told several of them in these blogs.

How do you find a stray dog in a city of 2 million people, perhaps only starting with a picture and a sighting one or two weeks old?  Well it isn't easy, but it can be and is being done.

Posting the pictures is an obvious start in the search.  The location of the tourist's sighting is a starting point, and you don't have to cover a wide area.  These dogs stick to tourist areas like parks, hotels, and museums.  That is because tourists are a much better source of food than native Cubans.  As a result of pervasive food scarcity, natives don't waste food.  On the rare times they go to restaurants, they bag the leftovers and bring them home.  They don't buy lots of street snacks, but tourists do, and like here at home they often discard part of them.  Homeless animals rapidly find and consume any edible discards.  They don't readily move away from tourist areas, which become their homes.

So, a couple of blocks in each direction is as far as you have to go with pictures or posters,  Also the park sitters are really a quite stable group.  It tends to be the same people day after day.  Nora finds the regulars and chats with them about the dog she is looking for.  Cubans are easy to talk with and are as likely to start the conversation as Nora is.  Also in my experience, Cubans are often animal lovers, so they're motivated to help find the dog in question.  Pablo, a recent rescue, was found after talking with a small group of young men who are regulars at the park.  They liked the dog, played with him, and had even given him a name—Bucanero, the Spanish word for pirate and also a popular brand of Cuban beer.

Those young men were protective of Pablo (or Bucanero).  They wanted to know what Nora was going to do with the dog.  She convinced them that Pablo was destined for a good home in the US.  These guys, Pablo's de facto owners, happily gave their consent to Nora's taking the dog.  Of course it didn't hurt that Nora is a public figure in Havana.  Her Saturday radio show and a weekly television appearance during which she gives advice about good treatment of animals make her easily recognized.

So, even though Aniplant is not in the rescuing, business, it still sometimes finds itself searching, vetting, adopting and rehoming animals.

In the past we've told the stories of Pablo, Bella, Cuba and other dogs who are happy to have been extracted from homelessness and delivered to a better life.

Les Inglis

Street Dog