I join lemony squeezes in her protest. Animal cruelty cannot be tolerated. ~ Jennifer’s Journal
Disclaimer: the following rant is in no way intended to minimize or satirize the very serious issue of racism in our world today. It was conceived with tongue firmly in cheek and for entertainment purposes only… sort of.
Are you tired of hearing countless dog lovers dissing cats as a matter of course? Have you grown weary, as I have, of people professing to be proud animal owners, and yet they sh*t on the existence of my beloved pets? I swear, if I hear one more dog owner claiming that dogs are the superior pet, I’m going to start the meanest cat-fight you have ever witnessed.
Don’t get me wrong. I love dogs. I adore dogs. I have owned dogs myself in the past, but right now my life is more suited for the feline variety of pets, due in part to their low maintenance, but also because of the compatibility of our personalities. We are quiet, for the most part, and slightly aloof. We are independent. We keep ourselves clean. And we love each other unconditionally, and pine for each other when we’re apart. ( But I’m getting off track here with my cat love. I am head over heels about horses too, but can in no way accommodate one in my life at this time either.)
Even media personalities are hopping on the “dogs and dog-people are best” bandwagon, spouting their prejudices like it’s something to be proud of. But folks, just because your opinion is popular doesn’t make it right. It makes you sound like you have succumbed to a form of speciesism. Besides, you hardly ever hear cat owners/lovers badmouthing dogs, the way so many dog owners/lovers badmouth cats.
Where is the tolerance? What happened to the idea of Live and Let Live? Can we not embrace all animals for their individuality and wonderfulness? I’ll even go out on a limb here and say it is comparable to the ignorance of a person saying he loves mankind, but in no way can he tolerate foreigners. It just doesn’t make any sense, like so many other kinds of prejudice ( and don’t get me started on that).
Can we not all embrace each other for our differences and uniqueness, and just get along?
Here are some scenes I captured a couple of weeks ago when our backyard bay was full of ice and “bergy bits”. Maisie and Vivian, being the naturally curious creatures they are, simply had to take a closer look. On tentative paws and their noses in the air, smelling the invigorating ocean breeze, they took me along…
“Be careful what you wish for, Jennifer…”
I have always adored animals, and was enjoying getting closer to nature since my husband and I moved back to rural Newfoundland, but THIS IS A LITTLE TOO CLOSE FOR COMFORT.
Yes, the big visitor showed up in our little town just yesterday, one of four recent reports of polar bears being on the island of Newfoundland so far this spring (read further and view actual pictures from yesterday from the linked article below). The Ursus Maritimus doesn’t often make its way this far south. It is when it is hungrily hunting seals, which are found on icepans this time of year, that it may end up in some of our backyards. Yikes!!
“Don’t worry,” says my husband. “Nobody has ever been attacked by a polar bear in Newtown before.”
Gee, thanks, Honey. I don’t know why I was worrying. We are, after all, only talking about the LARGEST LIVING LAND PREDATOR IN THE WORLD.
Silly RCMP, too, for warning us to be on the lookout. Oh well, as the old joke goes, I won’t have to outrun the bear, I’ll just have to outrun the husband…
Babies. Newborns, four-month-olds, six-month-olds, toddlers…but before they are swallowed up by the children they become. I love their newness, their freshness, their tiny hands and feet, the downy skin and clear blue eyes. And their helplessness and need for your care. My little grandson Joshua (and his mom and dad!) gave me that gift, the gift of being needed at the most basic level, at a time when I thought those days were behind me. Feeding him, rocking him, singing a lullaby. Must be my maternal side showing..
Leah…my beautiful granddaughter Leah. Her sunny smile, her boundless energy, her sweet, loving heart. The way she shares her thoughts so succinctly, but then her sudden shyness when she meets someone new (I know where that comes from!). Her innocent, yet beguiling charm.
The ocean. My new backyard…no, much more than that; it surrounds me! Every day I look out, it is a slightly different colour; morphing between shades of electric blue sapphire, or steel grey, or deep, dark, ominous navy with frothy white-caps. The sea is like a living thing, mercurial, organic, merciless. And endlessly beautiful.
Animals…and not just my cats. Horses, dogs, whales, birds, wild beings in the forest. Creatures of the sea and sky.
Conversation and dialogue, a monologue, poetry, words… talk shows, interviews, journals, diaries, songs! Slightly different shades of meaning expressed by employing a different word, an inflection, a facial expression, an innermost thought, a lyric or a verse.
Love. All kinds: a mother’s love, friend love, passionate, head-over-heels in love, idolatry, paternal love, mentor love, unrequited love. A grandparent’s love! Love for a pet. Perhaps most importantly, love of Self.
Order. I like when life has a plan, a logical sequence, a symmetry, even when there doesn’t seem to be any apparent sense to it (the challenge and reward is in the discovery of meaning where you thought there was none). On a simpler level, I love neatness and polish of style, whether it be fashion, decorating, or artistic expression.
Work. Ordinary ol’ hard work, the only way to get anything done. The idea of purpose and direction in your life, and not just something you do for yourself but for everyone around you. Getting in there and rolling up your sleeves, getting good and dirty, immersing yourself in a job for no other reason than it just feels good to do so.
The joy of cooking. The planning, the preparation, and the patience required to turn out a delicious meal. Excellent therapy for giving you focus. It can also teach you how to be more resourceful with what is on hand. All you need is inspiration, imagination, and a few dozen cookbooks!
Music. All kinds of music that is good. This includes anything that makes you want to dance and sing, no matter how silly a ditty it is. Food for the soul and spirit.
Tales of the sea. Shipwrecks, near tragedies, heroism by ordinary mortals in extraordinary circumstances. Stories of Newfoundlanders who overcame hardship as they tried to eke out a living from the sea.
Heroism in everyday life: a man who gives of himself generously to those in need, with no thought of recompense; a person coming to the rescue of someone in great emotional pain; the woman who raises a family without a father in the picture (and does it well); the bravery of someone battling an illness or condition; dying with dignity.
Books…old, dusty tomes with dog-eared pages, brand new paperbacks, the smell of ink inside, stories written before I was born, colourful, well-written fiction of today, non-fiction that inspires while it helps explain the world and our place in it. I was a devout bookworm growing up; my best friends lived inside the pages, and I hated saying good-bye to them at the end. Racing to finish that book you can’t put down, savouring every word, but hating its completion. I would love to write a book like that. That is my goal.
Jennifer's Journal 
