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Cat Defender

Exposing the Lies and Crimes of Bird Advocates, Wildlife Biologists, the United States Fish and Wildlife Service, PETA, the Humane Society of the United States, Exterminators, Vivisectors, the Scientific Community, Fur Traffickers, Cloners, Breeders, Designer Pet Purveyors, Hoarders, Motorists, the United States Military, and Other Ailurophobes

Thursday, May 18, 2017

Churchill Is Covered in Paint and Burned in the Neck by a Gang of Juveniles in Yet Still Another Outrageous Assault Upon a Defenseless Cat in Reading

Churchill and His Horribly Burned Neck

"The closer she (the Good Samaritan) got, she saw the cat was spray-painted purple and saw an injury on its neck. It was a very open wound."

-- Nan Parks of the Animal Rescue League of Berks County

It is a debatable point as to whether it is adults or juveniles who commit the worst offenses against cats and kittens. The same likewise can be said for the immense joy that both groups derive from their lawlessness.

The only tangible difference that distinguishes the two aggregates is that adult abusers and killers, such as ornithologists, wildlife biologists, and environmentalists, feel compelled to manufacture all sorts of highfalutin balderdash and outright lies in order to camouflage their true motivations. (See Cat Defender posts of May 18, 2013, June 27, 2008, and April 4, 2017 entitled, respectively, "Ted Williams and the National Audubon Society Issue a Call for Cats to Be Poisoned with Tylenol® and Then Try to Lie Out of It," "The United States Fish and Wildlife Service and the Navy Hatch a Diabolical Plan to Gun Down Two-Hundred Cats on San Nicolas Island," and "A Mass Murderer of Cats, Entrepreneur, Medicine Man, and Artist Are Just a Few of the Many Hats That Are Worn by a 'Hands-On Environmentalist' on Kangaroo Island.")

Juvenile cat abusers, on the other hand, spare the public from having to listen to any exculpatory nonsense and instead simply glory to the hilt in their abject cruelty and wickedness. A rather poignant example of how that they think and behave occurred on April 9th when a group of them either trapped or somehow cornered a two-year-old gray cat subsequently dubbed Churchill in Essick Park on Church Street in Reading, one-hundred-five kilometers northwest of Philadelphia.

Once they had him at their mercy, these pint-sized devils methodically proceeded to spray-paint him purple and to burn a three to four-inch gash in the left side of his neck. It is not known precisely how that the latter injury was inflicted, but it could have been done with either a cigarette lighter or a propane torch.

There really is not any way of knowing either what other forms of cruel and inhumane punishment that they had in store for Churchill or even if he ever would have made it out of that wretched park alive if an unidentified Good Samaritan had not arrived upon the scene in the nick of time. What transpired next is far from clear, but these cowardly monsters apparently vamoosed at the very sight of the woman.

"The closer she got, she saw the cat was spray-painted purple and saw an injury on its neck," Nan Parks of the Animal Rescue League of Berks County (ARLBC) later told WFMZ-TV of Allentown on April 19th. (See "Cat Spray-Painted, Set on Fire in Reading.") "It was a very open wound."

She immediately scooped up Churchill and transported him to the ARLBC's shelter at 58 Kennel Road in Birdsboro, thirteen kilometers southeast of Reading, where she then abandoned him at the facility's stray animal building. She was thoughtful enough, however, to leave a note with him detailing the location and circumstances under which she had found him.

Since press reports have not divulged exactly when Churchill was assaulted, it is not possible to pinpoint when that the Good Samaritan arrived with him at the ARLBC's shelter. Nevertheless, given that is only open from 11 a.m. until 4 p.m. on a Sunday coupled with the fact that she was forced to leave a note, the assumption, correctly or incorrectly, is that Churchill was left unattended.

It likewise never has been explained why that she chose the ARLBC over the Humane Society of Berks County (HSBC) which, at 1801 North Street in Reading, was only 2.73 kilometers, or about an eight minute drive, north of Church Street as opposed to the sixteen minutes that it took her to cover the 8.69 kilometers that separate Church Street from Kennel Road. The latter also is open from 9 a.m. until 5 p.m. on a Sunday but Humane Veterinary Hospitals Reading (HVHR), located next door, is only open Monday through Saturday. It thus would appear that cats who are either injured or become sick on a Sunday are out of luck in Reading.

It accordingly is entirely possible that Churchill was forced to go without treatment until the following day and during such a long interval he easily could have died from an infection or lost his eyesight. Even as things eventually turned out, the pain and torment that he was forced to live with were bad enough.

Once staffers at the ARLBC belatedly got around to treating him, they discovered that in addition to the ugly gash in his neck, he also was suffering from a foggy eye and an untreated ulcer. No details of the type of care that he received have been divulged but staffers apparently were able to shampoo the paint out of his fur because he does not appear to have been shaven in photographs of him that later were released to the press.

His eyes likely were flushed with water and treated with medicated drops whereas the wound to his neck had to be cleansed, medicated, and bandaged. Afterwards he in all probability was administered antibiotics, painkillers, and fitted with an Elizabethan collar.

Hopefully, the veterinarians were able to have saved his eyesight and his neck should heal in time. Even so, his recuperation is expected to take several months and that admission thinly suggests that his injuries may have been even more severe than the ARLBC has been willing to publicly acknowledge.

He was placed in foster care on April 14th with one of the charity's volunteers and is said to be adjusting as well as possible to his new surroundings. "He's definitely been through the ringer for his young age, but he's a sweetheart; a super-great cat," ARLBC's shelter manager Sarah McKillip testified to the Reading Eagle on April 20th. (See "Cat Spray-Painted, Suffers Burns in Reading.") "For everything he's been through, he has every right to hate mankind. But he doesn't."

Even individuals who work with them on a daily basis, such as McKillip, always seen to be surprised by cats' total lack of malice and that in itself tends to suggest that they fail to fully appreciate them. First of all, cats are not people; in fact, they are far superior to them. Secondly, there simply is not any way that any of them ever could get even with a monster as vile as man so holding grudges would be a waste of time and cats are smart enough to realize that.

Given Churchill's friendly nature, he likely at some point previously had a guardian in Reading but, for whatever reason, that individual has not attempted to reclaim him. While it is always conceivable that an unwillingness to pony up for his veterinary care could very well be at the heart of that utterly shameful abdication of moral responsibility, it also is possible that one or more of his attackers were family members.

Press reports have not broached the subject of whether he was wearing a collar or had been microchipped but the inference is that neither were the case. It likewise has not been disclosed if he had been sterilized.

His right ear does not appear to have been mutilated and that, in most instances, forecloses the notion that he could have belonged to a managed TNR colony. Consequently, not only is his past a mystery but also how that he wound up in Essick Park.

The ARLBC claims to have interviewed several potential witnesses in the area surrounding the park but that, as far as it is known, constitutes the sum total of the effort that it has invested in attempting to bring those responsible for attacking Churchill to justice. Accordingly, no arrest has been made and none is expected.

Instead, the public has been treated to the customary outpouring of crocodile tears and expressions of moral outrage. "We'll do everything we can to stop (abuse), but somebody has to speak up," McKillip pontificated to the Reading Eagle. "Every time when you think you've seen it all, you're wrong."

Whereas there is not any doubting the veracity of her last statement, she is living in a dream world if she truly expects the public to do the ARLBC's and the Reading Police Department's jobs for them. Besides it being outrageous of her to fob off responsibility for enforcing the anti-cruelty statutes onto ordinary citizens, they are not about to take up that gauntlet in a million years.

Besides, they do not possess either the expertise, resources, or the authority to investigate crimes of this nature and thus to make arrests. Only humane groups and the police are equipped to do that but neither of them have much interest in doing so.

Churchill Is Facing a Lengthy Recuperation Period in Foster Care

Her colleague, Parks, was equally long on the rhetoric but disturbingly short on action. "This is something that is wrong," she declared to WFMZ-TV. "It's inhumane and we really want justice for Churchill."

Even in uttering those sentiments, she has grotesquely understated the magnitude of the problem that exists in Reading. For example, earlier on April 4th a brown, one-year-old cat named Miracle Maisy barely escaped with her life after she was doused with petrol and thrown out with the trash. (See Cat Defender post of May 12, 2017 entitled "Miracle Maisy Is Bound and Tied, Soaked in Petrol, Sealed Up in a Plastic Bag, and Then Run Through a Trash Compactor but, Amazingly, Is Still Alive Thanks to a Pair of Compassionate Garbagemen.")

Furthermore, it is not only cats are being preyed upon in Reading but dogs as well. For instance, a Chihuahua dubbed Lady Luck was plucked from a garbage can in the 1000 block of Penn Street on April 19th. Like Maisy, she since then has been placed in a new home.

Clearly, there is a lot that is rotten in Reading but given the intransigence of both the law enforcement community and humane groups, those individuals and organizations that truly care about cats need to seriously consider new approaches to this age-old dilemma. One option would be to hire private dicks in order to investigate cases of animal cruelty.

Fully cognizant of the futility of relying upon the authorities to investigate such cases, a number of private individuals already have turned to these professionals but the results have been mixed. The principal drawback is that even when gumshoes are able to locate and identify cat killers that, quite often, is still not sufficient in order to persuade the police and humane groups to make arrests. (See Cat Defender post of April 2, 2015 entitled "Cornishman Shells Out £10,000 on Private Peepers in Order to Track Down Farah's Killer but Once Again Gets Stiffed by Both the Police and the RSPCA.")

A second alternative would be for rescue groups to recruit and train volunteers to do this long-neglected job. Just the mere presence alone of an army of dedicated volunteers prowling the streets for cat abusers might be sufficient in itself in order to deter some would-be abusers.

Merely accepting cruelty to cats as an unalterable fact of life should not be an option but that is precisely the position that the ARLBC has adopted in regard to what was done to Churchill. "You're never happy to see abuse, you're never happy to see these things go on, and it breaks your heart to see it," McKillip philosophized to the Reading Eagle. "But at least he's with us, and I knew he'd be okay."

That is not necessarily the case in that one day he is going to leave foster care and then he will be subject to same dangers as before. Consequently, temporarily safeguarding the life of a solitary cat is tantamount to using chewing gum to stop up a gaping hole in a ship the size of the Titanic.

The objective should be to ensure the safety and well-being of all cats at all times and in order to do so it is paramount that abusers and killers be apprehended and severely punished. Anyone or group that is unwilling to commit the time, effort, and resources that are required in order to transform that worthy goal into a reality might just as well shut up and thus spare the world from having to listen to their phony-baloney excuses.

If that were the whole story it would be bad enough in its own right, but many humane organizations exploit acts of cruelty as a means of raising cash for other activities. Whereas it is readily acknowledged that all of these cash-strapped organizations desperately need money for, inter alia, veterinary care, adoption services, and general operating expenses, there nonetheless is something inherently dishonest about accepting money under false pretenses.

Even if humane groups somehow could be prevailed upon to take cruelty to cats seriously, that would constitute merely the first baby step on a long and difficult road toward holding their attackers accountable under the law. That is because district attorneys do not have any interest whatsoever in prosecuting animal cruelty cases, juries refuse to convict, and even when they do judges will not punish the guilty.

Given that is the case with adult offenders, it is even more so the norm with juveniles who are permitted by societies all over the world to injure and kill cats with impunity. In furtherance of sating their perverse desires, they have appropriated for their use practically every known means of killing cats imaginable.

First of all, they simply adore setting them ablaze. (See Cat Defender posts of September 23, 2005, October 5, 2006, and July 12, 2007 entitled, respectively, "Two New Zealand Teens Douse Three Caged Cats with Glue and Burn Them to Death," "New Jersey Teens' Idea of Fun: Beat Up a Defenseless Kitten and Then Burn It to Death," and "Burned Nearly to Death by Laughing Teenage Girls, Two-Month-Old Kitten Named Adam Is Fighting for His Life in Santa Rosa.")

Closely associated with burning cats and kittens to death, juveniles also get a big kick out of attaching firecrackers to their tiny bodies and then lighting the fuses. (See Cat Defender post of November 30, 2006 entitled "Yobs Celebrating Guy Fawkes Day Kill Twelve-Year-Old Cat Named Tigger with Fireworks; Cat Named Sid Is Severely Burned.")

Crossbows are another of their favorite weapons. (See Cat Defender post of December 18, 2009 entitled "Teenage Wino Who Gunned Down Her Neighbor's Cat, Trouble, with a Crossbow from Her Bedroom Window Cheats Justice.")

They also drown cats. (See Cat Defender post of October 2, 2008 entitled "Sixteen-Year-Old London Girl Is Finally Arrested in the Horrific Drowning Death of Kilo from the HMS Belfast.")

The siccing of large, vicious dogs on cats and kittens is another of their delights. (See Cat Defender post of March 24, 2010 entitled "Seven-Month-Old Bailey Is Fed to a Lurcher by a Group of Sadistic Teens in Search of Cheap Thrills in Northern Ireland.")

They even bind cats with tape and beat kittens to death with sticks. (See Cat Defender post of November 25, 2015 entitled "A Cruel Teenage Drunkard and Dope Addict Who Bound a Cat and a Dog with Tape Before Killing Them Is Let Off Easy by a Calgary Court" and the Belfast Telegraph, August 17, 2013, "Anger over Council and Police 'Inaction' as Children Torture and Kill Kittens.")

Their preferred choice of weapons are, however, air guns. (See Cat Defender post of May 7, 2007 entitled "British Punks Are Having a Field Day Maiming Cats with Air Guns but the Peelers Continue to Look the Other Way.")

On those rare occasions when they get bored with sticking it to cats, they train their bottomless fountain of evil upon other animals and, especially, homeless men. Since societies do not have any more regard for those two groups than they do for cats, juveniles are likewise allowed to assault them with impunity.

Those individuals responsible for that litany of crimes as well as those who so hideously abused Churchill should be treated as adults under the law and dealt with accordingly. That is not about to happen, however; instead, they are allowed to remain free and to grow into adults where they commit even more dastardly crimes against both cats and society at large.

Even damaged as he is, Churchill is awfully lucky to still be alive but if something is not done soon in order to make Reading a far safer city for cats, he may not be able to stay that way for much longer. The same holds true for countless other felines who sans doute are being abused, maimed, and killed but whose plights never have seen so much as the light of day.

Photos: Animal Rescue League of Berks County (Churchill's burned neck) and the Reading Eagle (Churchill asleep on a mat).

Friday, May 12, 2017

Miracle Maisy Is Bound and Tied, Soaked in Petrol, Sealed Up in a Plastic Bag, and Then Run Through a Trash Compactor but, Amazingly, Is Still Alive Today Thanks to a Pair of Compassionate Garbagemen

Maisy Drenched in Deadly Petrol

"I was awake all night Tuesday (April 4th) hoping that she would just get through the night. This has been one of the worst cases I've dealt with. I was in tears most of the night worrying that she would pass away."

-- veterinarian Kimya Davani

A cat-hating monster of undetermined pedigree and affiliation wanted one-year-old Maisy dead so badly that either he or she went to quadruple lengths in order to turn that objective into a reality. That individual began by binding the small, brown-colored cat's four appendages with, most likely, either rope or some type of tape before dousing her from head to toe in petrol. The next order of business was to seal her up tightly inside a plastic trash bag an then to stuff her into a garbage can at the curb in order to be collected by the trash haulers.

Any one of those diabolical means would have sufficient in that, first of all, the fumes from the petrol would have, sooner or later, either sucked the breath out of her or damaged her respiratory system so irreparably that she no longer would have been able to breathe. She additionally could have been burned alive in the ensuing conflagration if a passerby had unknowingly tossed a cigarette into the garbage can.

Secondly, she very easily could have suffocated to death inside the bag. Thirdly, she likely would have been unwittingly crushed to death by either the trash haulers or at whatever facility that they dump their loads at the end of the day.

Finally, if against all odds she had been able to have weathered all of those perils, she surely would have succumbed to hunger and thirst at some point. It accordingly is hard to imagine that any cat ever has found herself in such dire and utterly hopeless circumstances.

Her very clever assailant thought that either he or she had covered all the bases but that individual made one little mistake in that he had failed to gag Maisy. As things eventually turned out, that oversight made the difference between life and death.

At some undisclosed time during the afternoon of April 4th, two garbagemen stopped to make a pickup in the 500 block of North Front Street in Reading, one-hundred-five kilometers northwest of Philadelphia, whereupon they nonchalantly picked up the bag containing Maisy and tossed it in the rear of their truck. The bag in short order was packed and crushed.

Maisy's Saviors Alongside Their Rig

Normally, that would have been the end of Maisy and this story never would have been written but she, somehow, had miraculously eluded being crushed to smithereens by the compactor. Every bit as amazing she still had enough life still left in her tiny body in order to cry out for help.

The unidentified workmen, who slave away for Harold Adam Refuse Removal in Hamburg, three-three kilometers north of Reading, not only heard her plaintive cries for help but waded into the piles of smelly and rotting garbage in order to pull her out alive. They did not stop there, however, but instead took time out from their exceedingly demanding schedule in order to transport her to the Humane Society of Berks County (HSBC).

The charity's Chelsea Cappellano took one look at Maisy and was horror-stricken. "This is the worse animal cruelty case I've ever seen or experienced," she declared to the Reading Eagle on April 6th. (See "Cat Found Doused in Gasoline in Garbage Can in Reading.")

She almost immediately was transferred next door to Humane Veterinary Hospitals Reading (HVHR) where Kimya Davani and her crackerjack staff launched into an all-out race against the clock in order to reclaim Maisy's fragile life from the ice-cold hands of the Grim Reaper. Considering the pitiful state that she was in, the odds were heavily stacked against Davani and her assistants.

Since she had been so extraordinarily lucky in avoiding the compactor's blade, the staff christened her Miracle Maisy. Even so, the estimated six hours that she had spent breathing in the petrol fumes had taken their toll on her.

"The first twenty-four hours are crucial. Though there are no visible life-threatening injuries, we are worried that the toxicity of the gasoline has affected her lungs and neurological functioning," Davani disclosed to the Reading Eagle. "At this time, we're monitoring her for onset illness and ensuring that her chemical burns and bruises heal properly."

Maisy after Having Been Shampooed and Shaven

In addition to all of that, her body temperature had dropped precipitately, she was emaciated, dehydrated, and had sustained unspecified damage to her liver. The most pressing issue, however, was to remove the petrol from her fur and skin before it siphoned the life out of her.

In furtherance of that worthy objective, Davani and her staff spent the greater part of that first day shampooing and drying Maisy's fur but when that endeavor ultimately proved to be insufficient they were forced into taking a bolder initiative. "The gas was so embedded in her fur that she wasn't drying, and because of this her internal body temperature had dropped," Davani told the Reading Eagle. "We had to shave most of her body in order to get her temperature up again."

She also was outfitted with a sweater in order to help her keep warm. After that, however, there was little that Davani and her staff could do except to wait and hope for the best.

"I was awake all night Tuesday (April 4th) hoping that she would just get through the night," she told the Reading Eagle on April 7th. (See "Miracle Maisy on the Mend.") "This has been one of the worst cases I've dealt with. I was in tears most of the night worrying that she would pass away."

Anyone who ever has attended to ailing cats can readily sympathize with those sentiments. The overwhelming majority of the time they do not pull through whereas in other instances they mount courageous, last-minute rallies only to turn around and break their owners hearts to bits by succumbing to the Grim Reaper's machinations.

One never knows how these things are going to turn out unless one is willing to pull out all the stops and to travel that last, lonely mile in an effort to save a dying cat's life. It does not happen too often in this world but ever once in a blue moon even the calloused hearts of The Fates can be swayed by tears and that, mercifully, was the case with those that Davani shed on Maisy's behalf.

Maisy Was Fitted with a Sweater in Order to Keep Her Warm

"Maisy is feeling great today. Most of her vitals have returned to normal and she started bonding with some of our staff members," Davani was able to joyfully report to the Reading Eagle on April 7th. "But I think she may still be a little overstimulated with all the attention she's getting."

By either April 8th or April 9th, she was well enough in order to be placed in foster care with a woman identified only as Donna. A few days later she was dewormed and vaccinated against rabies and the Feline Panleukopenia Virus.

"Her coat is slowly growing back in, and her skin redness has subsided substantially, though she's feeling a bit itchy now. She is still underweight but has shown improvement since her last visit," Davani's colleague at HVHR, Alicia Simoneau, wrote in an untitled April 12th article that was posted on HSBC's Facebook page. "One concern that remains is her constant paw and tail flickering. This could be the lingering effects from the gasoline exposure, and we'll continue to monitor her for changes."

On April 14th, she was spayed and returned to her foster mom. In an April 18th posting on HSBC's Facebook page Donna described her as "playful, affectionate, and super-friendly."

Following a detailed screening process, the HSBC said good-bye to Maisy on either April 29th or April 30th when it and Donna relinquished custody of her to an anonymous adopter. "Maisy is settling in nicely. She's radiant energy!" that truly blessed individual wrote May 1st on HSBC's Facebook page. "Within twenty-four-hours she already started purring, investigating, and playing. String seems to be her favorite toy."

The HSBC was equally ecstatic. "We're over the moon knowing Miracle Maisy has a home, one that will erase all the bad memories of her traumatic experience and replace them with nothing but love and kindness," it wrote in the same Facebook article.

 Kimya Davani Worked Tirelessly in Order to Save Maisy's Life

The response from the authorities to this latest, horrific act of cruelty perpetrated against an innocent and defenseless cat has been predictable; c'est-à-dire, all blow and no go. "It's critically important that we protect the animals in the community," Karel Minor of Humane Pennsylvania, an umbrella organization of which HSBC is a member, told the Reading Eagle in the April 6th article cited supra. "It's our goal for whoever committed this terrible crime to receive the help they need or the prosecution they deserve."

Pursuant to that the HSBC has offered a US$1,000 reward for information leading to an arrest but just how disingenuous all such offers of that sort are was made manifest when PETA followed suit by offering to part with US$5,000 from its precious hoard. (See the Philly Voice, April 10, 2017, "Reward Up to $6,000 in Pennsylvania Case of Cat Doused with Gas, Tossed in Trash Truck.")

Besides the well-known fact that rewards of this nature are almost exclusively public relations stunts that rarely, if ever, produce any positive results, PETA is way too busy stealing and killing cats to ever be bothered with saving so much as a solitary feline soul. (See Cat Defender posts of January 29, 2007, February 9, 2007, and October 7, 2011 entitled, respectively, "PETA's Long History of Killing Cats and Dogs Is Finally Exposed in a North Carolina Courtroom," "Verdict in PETA Trial: Littering Is a Crime but Not the Mass Slaughter of Innocent Cats and Dogs," and "PETA Traps and Kills a Cat and Then Shamelessly Goes Online in Order to Brag about Its Criminal and Foul Deed.")

Given that PETA's wholesale crimes against the species have been so thoroughly documented, the capitalist media's stubborn insistence upon doing its bidding can only mean that they not only share its viewpoint but support its killing of cats. Absolutely no one has the guts to call a spade a spade but allowing PETA to put in its two cents' worth on any issue affecting cats is tantamount to the media designating the Ku Klux Klan as the go to organization for a comment on issues concerning black-Americans.

Make no mistake about it: PETA does not speak for any individual or group with any degree of credibility within the feline protection movement. Au contraire, it mouths off only for itself and its champions within the thoroughly dishonest and discredited capitalist media.

Animal cruelty cases are solvable only through the application of sound detective work and although the Reading Police Department (RPD) is supposedly looking into the attack on Maisy, there is not so much as a scintilla of evidence that it has stirred so much as a muscle in that regard. Even in those rare cases when arrests have been made, prosecutors rarely go after the culprits with anything other than wet noodles, juries fail to convict, and even when they do judges adamantly refuse to mete out any jail time.

Consequently, countless cats wind up each year in garbage trucks, city dumps, and at recycling centers. Worst still, with the exception of a minute few of them, such as was the case with Maisy, Autumn, Alfie, and Penny, there are not any eleventh-hour reprieves. (See Cat Defender posts of March 23, 2009, May 4, 2010, and August 23, 2007 entitled, respectively, "Mistakenly Tossed Out in the Trash, Autumn Survives a Harrowing Trip to the City Dump in Order to Live Another Day," "Picked Up by a Garbage Truck Driver and Dumped with the Remainder of the Trash, Alfie Narrowly Misses Being Recycled," and "An Alert Scrap Metal Worker Discovers a Pretty 'Penny' Hidden in a Mound of Rubble.")

Maisy Likes to Chase Strings

A few of the lucky ones are discovered before they wind up on garbage trucks but even then it is an awfully close, not to mention traumatic, shave for them. (See Cat Defender posts of October 3, 2009, February 24, 2010, February 25, 2010, and October 24, 2011 entitled, respectively, "Deliberately Entombed Inside a Canvas Bag for Six Days, Duff Is Saved by a Pair of Alert Maintenance Workers at an Apartment Complex in Spokane," "Sealed Up in a Backpack Inside a Plastic Bag and Then Tossed in the Trash, Titch Is Rescued by a Passerby in Essex," "Bess Twice Survives Attempts Made on Her Life Before Landing on All Four Paws at a Pub in Lincolnshire," and "Chucked Out in the Trash, Tabitha Winds Up in an Oxygen Chamber with Four Broken Ribs, an Injured Lung, and Pneumonia.")

In Maisy's case, the prima facie evidence is mixed. On the one hand, her emaciation would seem to imply that she was homeless while, on the other hand, her friendly demeanor suggests that she, at least at some point in her life, had had a guardian. The perpetrator of this despicable act of animal cruelty therefore could have been either her previous owner or an inveterate cat-hater, such as either an ornithologist, wildlife biologist, or environmentalist. (See Cat Defender posts of May 18, 2013 and April 4, 2017 entitled, respectively, "Ted Williams and the National Audubon Society Issue a Call for Cats to Be Poisoned with Tylenol® and Then Try to Lie Out of It" and "A Mass Murderer of Cats, Entrepreneur, Medicine Man, and Artist Are Just a Few of the Many Hats That Are Worn by a 'Hands-On Environmentalist' on Kangaroo Island.")

On the positive side of the ledger, if this incident has exposed what The Shadow used to refer to as "the evil that lurks in the hearts of men," it simultaneously has highlighted the good that is also to be found therein. First and foremost, there were the two-hundred individuals who by April 6th had compassionately opened up their hearts and wallets to the tune of US$6,500 for Maisy's immediate care. "We have been very surprised by the support we've received," Mary Keller of Humane Pennsylvania told the Reading Eagle in the April 7th article cited supra.

Secondly, Maisy was the beneficiary of the expert and conscientious care provided by Davani and her staff at HVHR. At the very pinnacle of this honor roll of heroes, however, are the trash haulers from Harold Adam without whose derring-do Maisy never would have made it to HVHR in the first place.

"We are so thankful to those men and the trash company for bringing her in," Cappellano acknowledged to the Reading Eagle on April 6th. "Many people would have turned a blind eye in this situation, but they were proactive in getting her the help she needs."

Truer words never have been spoken and this pair of hard-working men are true heroes in every sense of that word. They even stopped by HVHR on April 7th in order to check on how Maisy was progressing.

Maisy Has Plenty of Toys to Play With These Days

The compassion that they showed Maisy is not anything unusual for members of their profession. For instance on August 28, 2015, Bekir Mercil and his two assistants devoted thirty minutes of their valuable time in order to unload four to five tons of trash from their truck in order to save the life of tiny brown kitten named Melker.

Without their dramatic intervention, he would have been burned to a crisp at a plant in Stockholm. Like Maisy's rescuers, they did not rest on their laurels, however, but instead transported him to a shelter where Maria Carlsson of a veterinary clinic in Vallentuna, thirty-six kilometers north of Stockholm, later adopted him. (See The Local of Stockholm, August 28, 2015, "Stockholm Bin Men Rescue Doomed Kitten" and the Daily Mail, September 11, 2015, "Binmen to the Rescue! Cat Is Plucked from Under Five Tonnes (sic) of Rotting Waste Just Moments Before It Was Due to Be Incinerated.")

None of the heroics of all of those involved in rescuing Maisy can completely obliterate, however, the sobering conclusion that Pennsylvania is one of the worst places for cats to live in America. First of all, the police make a habit out of murdering them on sight. (See Cat Defender posts of March 31, 2008 and September 1, 2016 entitled, respectively, "Cecil, Pennsylvania, Police Officer Summarily Executes Family's Beloved Ten-Year-Old Persian, Elmo" and "The Legal and Political Establishment in a Small Pennsylvania Backwater Closes Ranks and Pulls Out All the Stops in Order to Save the Job and Liberty of the Bloodthirsty Cop Who Murdered Sugar.")

That is another reason why that members of the law enforcement community, such as the RPD, so stubbornly refuse to take seriously cruelty to cats. That in turn puts them in the same class of rotters as the hypocritical, cat-killing scumbags at PETA.

Some of the Keystone State's shelters and sanctuaries likewise can be safely dismissed as little more than feline slaughterhouses. (See Cat Defender posts of March 19, 2010 and May 10, 2010 entitled, respectively, "Trapped and Killed by the Delaware County SPCA, Keecha's Life Is Valued at Only $1 by a Pennsylvania Arbitration Panel" and "Lunatic Rulings in Cats With No Name Cruelty Cases Prove Once Again That Pennsylvania Is a Safe Haven for Cat Killers and Junkies.")

Even its highfalutin and pompous, albeit as rich as Croesus, universities are little more than hangouts for feline abusers and killers.  (See Cat Defender posts of February 12, 2007, June 9, 2008, and March 19, 2014 entitled, respectively, "God-Fearing Baptists at Eastern University Kill Off Their Feral Cats on the Sly while Students Are Away on Christmas Break," "Pennsylvania College Greedily Snatches Up Alumnus' Multimillion-Dollar Bequest but Turns Away His Cat, Princess," and "Cheap and Greedy Moral Degenerates at PennVet Extend Their Warmest Christmas Greetings to an Impecunious, but Preeminently Treatable, Cat Via a Jab of Sodium Pentobarbital.")

Pretty Little Maisy Is Hoping to Make a New Start in Life

Like any other jurisdiction around the world, Pennsylvania also has its fair share of drunkards, motorists, and mutilators who are allowed by the authorities to injure and kill cats with impunity. (See Cat Defender posts of October 30, 2010, March 5, 2007, and April 24, 2010 entitled, respectively, "Drunken Bum Is Foiled in a Macabre Plot to Make a Meal Out of Kittens, Nirvana and Karma, That He Allegedly Ran Down Earlier with His Truck," "Run Down by a Motorist and Frozen to the Ice by His Own Blood, Roo Is Saved by a Caring Woman," and "Holly Crawford Hits the Jackpot by Drawing a Judge Who Simply Adores Kitten Mutilators and Dope Addicts.")

It is extremely difficult to properly assess Maisy's prospects considering the extent of the damage that has been inflicted upon her young and tiny body. At last word, she was eating and drinking normally and that her blood levels had returned to normal. (See the Reading Eagle, April 11, 2017, "Maisy the Cat Recovering in Foster Care.")

She still has some tenderness in her hips, however, and her liver has been damaged as the result of the petrol leaching into it through the pores in her skin. Despite all of that, Davani expects the organ to improve in time and for her to be able to enjoy a perfectly normal life.

Hopefully, that will come to pass but only time will tell. Not many cats that are tossed out in the trash survive long enough in order to live another day so it is high time that one of them finally got the best of those formidable odds.

Hers is only one small victory, however, on a worldwide battlefield that is littered with the dead bodies of countless cats. Nevertheless, all of those involved in saving Maisy can take immense satisfaction in knowing that, at least on this all-too-rare occasion, they have prevailed over the machinations of a determined cat killer. Maisy's triumph and recovery therefore belongs to them every bit as much as it does to her and it is, above all, truly something to be celebrated and cherished.

Photos: Humane Society of Berks County (Maisy covered in petrol, shaven and shampooed, wearing a sweater, playing with a string and her toys, up-close, and her saviors) and Susan Keen of the Reading Eagle ( Maisy with Davani).

Thursday, May 04, 2017

Seventeen-Year-Old, Sickly, and Blind Orakel Is Abandoned to Fend for Herself in the Unforgiving Streets of Breitenfurt bei Wien


"Auch ihr fehlendes Augenlicht scheint sie nicht zu beeinträchtigen. Sie erkundet bereits neugierig ihre Umgebung und ist sehr geschickt, was den Schluss zulässt, dass sie bereits seit Lägerem erblindet ist."

-- Wiener Tierschutzverein

Just as the thorn always accompanies the rose, so too is it with cats in that the immense joy that they bring to their owners and supporters is always tinged with, at least, an equal proportion of profound sorrow. Das heißt, they are such tragic actors and actresses upon the world's stage that the only thing missing from their illustrious history is a dramatist of the caliber of Sophocles to do for them what he did for mankind all those millenniums ago.

The outrageous Unglück that always has dogged their every step like a malevolent shadow manifests itself in a million different abuses and deprivations that fail to recognize any international boundaries and few, if any, legal and moral constraints. Consequently, to single out any one particular class of offenses from this turbulent sea of unrelenting misery is an almost impossible task but without question the utterly deplorable plight of elderly and infirm cats has to rank at the top of that list.

Even so the overwhelming majority of these abused, neglected, and forgotten senior citizens of the feline world never make the headlines; im Gegenteil, they most often are either systematically liquidated by society or die in obscurity on their own. Despite that harsh reality, ever so often one of them, thanks to a favoring nod from The Fates, does come to the attention of the public and that has been the case with Orakel.

Found wandering the forlorn streets of Breitenfurt bei Wien, thirty-three kilometers southwest of Wien, sometime over the long Easter weekend, she was then was transported to Wiener Tierschutzverein (WTV) in the Vösendorf section of Wien. Judging by the pitiful condition that the diminutive brown, black, and white female was in, her deliverance did not come a day too soon.

Most readily noticeable to the naked eye, her fur had become so matted that she was unable to untangle it. The charity's Tierärztin soon thereafter quickly discovered that she also was suffering from severe malnutrition, respiratory difficulties, a liver condition, and that plaque had accumulated on her teeth and gums.

As if all of that would not have been enough misery for any cat to have borne, Orakel was laboring under two even more formidable disabilities. First of all, she was judged by the veterinarians to be at least seventeen years old and, secondly, she also was blind.

No one connected with WTV has publicly speculated as to how long that she had been on her own but, given her handicaps, it would seem unlikely that she was on the street for more than a few weeks. That estimate is based upon how exceedingly difficult it would have been for her to have procured very much in the way of food, water, and shelter over a protracted period of time.

Being elderly and blind, it is pretty much a foregone conclusion that she had spent her entire life indoors and therefore neither possessed the Sachkenntnis nor the means in order to fend for herself in the wild. WTV has not broached the subject, but it is entirely possible that she even may have been declawed and as such that would have made defending herself and climbing trees in order to elude predators pretty much impossible.

Why, just the fear, stress, and other psychological horrors that surely must have accompanied such an abrupt change in lifestyle would have been sufficient in order to driven a young and healthy cat out of its mind, let alone one laboring under the difficulties that afflicted Orakel. It accordingly is truly a miracle that she lasted for as long as she did without succumbing to either despair or the machinations of the elements, motorists, dogs, and cat-haters. (See Cat Defender post of February 2, 2015 entitled " Cruelly Declawed and Locked Up Indoors for All of His Life, Nicky Is Suddenly Thrust into the Bitter Cold and Snow for Twenty-One Consecutive Days with Predictably Tragic Results.")

Despite quite obviously having had at least one and possibly even more guardians during her lifetime, Orakel was neither wearing a collar nor microchipped. Furthermore, no one has filed either a missing cat report with the authorities or inquired about her at WTV.

It accordingly is difficult to get around the distressing, and simultaneously infuriating, conclusion that she was intentionally abandoned. As best it could be determined, neither WTV nor the Polizei have opened an investigation into this matter but if such an effort accomplished nothing else it, if successful, would at least put a face on such a heartless crime.

Abandonments occur all the time but it is difficult to fathom how that anyone could care for a cat for that length of time only to then turn around and cast it out in its old age and infirmities to fend for itself in a hostile world. Although individuals of that ilk would appear auf den ersten Blick to belong to the pages of horror stories, they in fact are definitely real. The difficulty lies in identifying them and subsequently holding them accountable under the anti-cruelty statutes.

At WTV, Orakel finally received the emergency care that she had so desperately needed and deserved for so long. The first order of business involved brushing out as many as possible of the tangles in her fur; the remainder had to be cut out.

After that she was given fluids, most likely intravenously, in order to help her regain not only strength but some of the weight that she had lost while on the street. The tartar was removed from her teeth and she was administered a battery of unspecified nonsteroidal, anti-inflammatory drugs.

It has not been specified either what ails her liver or what is being done in order to treat it. Leider, her blindness likely is irreversible considering her age.

"Generell ist, Orakel aber für ihr Alter gesundheitlich noch ganz gut in Schuss," WTV said in an April 18th press release. (See "Wiener Tierschutzverein pflegt blinde Katzendame.")

Following treatment, she was transferred to WTV's Katzenhaus where she, as far as it has been disclosed, has made a remarkable comeback. "Sie scheint auch zu merken, dass sie nun in guten Händen ist, denn Orakel ist extrem anhänglich und verschmust und sucht ständig den Kontakt zu Menschen, um sich laut schnurrend von allen Seiten streicheln zu lassen," the charity added.

Besides being a friendly and gregarious cat, she also is able to get around adroitly and that suggests that she, in all likelihood, has been sightless for a long time and perhaps even since birth. "Auch ihr fehlendes Augenlicht scheint sie nicht zu beeinträchtigen," WTV disclosed. "Sie erkundet bereits neugierig ihre Umgebung und ist sehr geschickt, was den Schluss zulässt, dass sie bereits seit Lägerem erblindet ist."

In spite of all the wonderful progress that she has made over the course of the past few weeks, Orakel is far from being out of the woods just yet. That is due principally to the fact that she still needs a home and it is extremely difficult even under the best of circumstances for shelters to place elderly felines.

Plus, in her case she is not only elderly but blind and sickly as well. (See Cat Defender posts of March 23, 2015, August 6, 2015, September 12, 2015, and August 26, 2015 entitled, respectively, "Old, Sickly, and on the Street, George Accidentally Wanders into a Pet Store and That, in All Likelihood, Saved His Life," "Elderly, Frail, and on Death Row, Lovely Pops Desperately Needs a New Home Before Time Finally Runs Out on Her," "Pops Finally Secures a Permanent Home but Pressing Concerns about Both Her Continued Care and Right to Live Remain Unaddressed," and "A Myriad of Cruel and Unforgivable Abandonments, a Chinese Puzzle, and Finally the Handing Down and Carrying Out of a Death Sentence Spell the End for Long-Suffering and Peripatetic Tigger.")

Fortunately, there are a few shelters and sanctuaries that provide long-term care for cats, such as Tilly and Maya, that are unable to secure new homes. (See Cat Defender post of May 27, 2016 entitled "Snubbed by an Ignorant, Tasteless, and Uncaring Public for the Past Twenty-One Years, Tilly Has Forged an Alternative Existence of Relative Contentment at a Sanctuary in the Black Country" and the Donau Kurier of Ingolstadt, July 9, 2013, "Die Geschichte der Maya.")

For its part, WTV has pledged to attempt to provide Orakel with a "schönen und stressfreien Lebensabend" in a new home. There is not any guarantee, however, that it will be successful in that endeavor.

That in turn brings up the disturbing topic of what will become of her if she is not adopted and none of the alternatives available to her are the least bit pleasant to contemplate. Furthermore, just because her former owner gave up on her, as WTV is likely to do at some point in the future, is not a valid reason for the remainder of humanity to follow suit.

Orakel is a courageous grand dame of the feline world who has suffered much, overcome even more, and demonstrated too strong of a will to live in order to be thwarted now. She in all probability does not have all that much time left in this world but she nevertheless is richly entitled to every last second of it.

Anyone who therefore is able to offer her a loving home is encouraged to contact WTV via telephone at 43-01-699 24 50 -16.

Photo: Wiener Tierschutzverein.

Friday, April 28, 2017

Trump Not Only Exposes Himself for What He Is but Also Disgraces the Office of the President in the Process by Feting Cat Killers Theodore Anthony Nugent and Kid Rock at the White House

It Took a Visit from The Nuge to Get a Smile Out of Trump

"This picture says it all...two of the most insincere smiles in history. What a pair of assholes!"
-- David Crosby

The decision by Hillary Rodham "and Gomorrah" Clinton to label half of Donald John Trump's supporters as a "basket of deplorables" may very well have cost her the 2016 presidential election but even so it is becoming harder and harder with each passing day to deny the accuracy of her assessment. (See The New York Times, September 10, 2016, "Hillary Clinton Calls Many Trump Backers 'Deplorables,' and the GOP Pounces.")

A good case in point was the Trumper's breaking bread at the White House on April 19th with cat-killers and disgraced rockers Theodore Anthony Nugent and Kid Rock. Also included in that Who's Who amongst animal killers was former vice-presidential candidate Sarah Louise Plain who gladly will snuff out the life of any one of them for either fun or profit.

"Your one and only Motor City Madman, Whackmaster Strap Assassin One dined with President Donald J. Trump at the White House to make America great again," Nugent wrote afterwards on Facebook according to the April 21st edition of The Star Ledger of Newark. (See "Guess Who Came to Dinner.") "Got that? Glowing all American over the top. We the people. Gory details coming as soon as possible!! Brace!"

At last check he has yet to make good on that promise so it is not known what that these Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse discussed during their four-hour powwow. Nevertheless, there cannot be any doubt that when it comes to gore, Nugent is a specialist.

"Always has been, always will be on the Nugent farm, where I have instructed my family, friends, hunting buddies and casual passerby to blast every cat they see," he wrote in a guest column for his buddies, the Moonies, at The Washington Times on December 3, 2010. (See "Nugent: The Time for Kitty Killing Has Come.") "The answer is so simple it is stupid: kill the feral cats on sight. Because of their breeding, we need to wipe out as many of these vermin as possible. No closed season on feral cats is the solution."

Whereas the National Audubon Society, the American Bird Conservancy, the United States Fish and Wildlife Service (USFWS), and all of Australia and New Zealand wholeheartedly agree with him, that does not alter the salient fact that shooting cats violates every anti-cruelty statute on the books and as such it is illegal in just about all jurisdictions across the country. It accordingly is totally inexcusable that the Michigan Humane Society in Bingham Farms, thirty-five kilometers north of Detroit, has not investigated Nugent and subsequently arrested him.

Furthermore, what he calls his "farm" is actually nothing more than a canned hunting ranch known as Sunrise Acres in Jackson, one-hundred-twenty-five kilometers west of Detroit. Although no details have been made public concerning what actually goes on there, the way that these types of operations usually conduct business is to parade doped-up exotic animals into corrals where they then are shot at point-blank range by trophy hunters. Some of the these operations even allow individuals to kill animals from thousands of miles away simply by clicking the mouses on their computer screens.

In addition to being one of the most morally repugnant forms of animal abuse imaginable, operations such as Sunrise Acres have to get their exotic cats and other animals from somewhere and that raises legal questions under both the Endangered Species Act as well as the Convention on International Trade in Species of Wild Fauna and Flora (CITES). Much more to the point, there is not so much as a speck of actual hunting done at Nugent's ranch; rather, what he is operating is an unlicensed slaughterhouse.

Nugent's anti-social behavior is not confined to killing cats and other animals but rather it extends to physical alterations and slanders directed against animal rights activists. He even has gone so far as to threaten the life of a sitting president.

"If Barack Obama becomes president in November again, I will either be dead or in jail by this time next year," he declared at the National Rifle Association's (NRA) annual convention in St. Louis on April 17, 2012 according to The Huffington Post's edition of that same date. (See "Ted Nugent for Mitt Romney: Rocker Stumps for GOP Candidate at NRA Convention.")

That veiled threat, which constitutes a Class E felony under the United States Code, Title 18, Section 871, earned him a visit from agents of the Secret Service but they ultimately refused to take any action against him. Former United States Senator Jesse Alexander Helms Jr. of North Carolina likewise got away scot-free with doing the same to President Bill Clinton back in the 1990's.

Kid Rock and Nugent Gleefully Pose with a Dead Cougar 

It is the same story all over the country. Right-wing loonies from the boonies with money, such as Nugent, Helms, and Nevada rancher and welfare bum Cliven Bundy, are allowed to get away with almost any crime whereas the Standing Rock Sioux and their supporters are attacked by the authorities with vicious dogs, water cannons, and rubber bullets for protesting the construction of the Dakota Access pipeline.

In Nugent's case, not only was he not prosecuted by the Secret Service but he was rewarded for his criminality by Steve Stockman of Texas' thirty-sixth congressional district with an invitation to attend Obama's State of the Union Address on February 12, 2013. (See The Washington Post, February 13, 2013, "Ted Nugent's Cross-Aisle Schmoozing at the State of the Union.")

His transformation from threatening the life of one president to being rehabilitated to the point of being invited to attend a joint session of Congress and to now being feted by the current occupant of the Oval Office can only be described as unbelievable. Nevertheless, anyone who has studied the link that exists between cruelty to animals and crimes directed against individuals surely must be alarmed by his meteoric ascendancy.

Born as Robert James Ritchie in the northern Detroit suburb of Romeo, one-hundred-seventy-three kilometers east of Jackson, Kid Rock is another archetypal example of the "deplorables" that constitute the hard-core of Trump's political base. Not only was he arrested for a series of alcohol-related misdemeanors in Detroit between 1991 and 1997 but he also was charged with assault on at least three distinct occasions between 2005 and 2007.

Like Nugent, he too is an avid gun collector and hunter. In that respect, he is perhaps best known for having killed a cougar while on a hunting trip with Nugent in January of 2015. (See The Mirror of London, January 21, 2015, "Kid Rock Angers Fans by Posing with a Dead Cougar. Grisly Snap Was Posted after Hunting Trip.")

The horrific crimes and slanders committed against animals by the third member of Trump's Achse des Bösen dining party, Palin, hardly need any reiteration. Nonetheless, in the past she has publicly bragged about gunning down more than forty caribous from helicopters as well as having hunted bears and possibly even wolves.

Consequently, it is not surprising that she fully supports the aerial gunning of wolves by the USFWS and the USDA's Wildlife Services. Every bit as deplorable, she massacres animals in order to churn out snuff films. (See the New York Daily News, December 9, 2010, "Aaron Sorkin: 'Sarah Palin's Alaska' Is a 'Snuff Film' and Ex-Alaska (sic) Governor Is 'Deranged'," the Daily Mail, December 7, 2010, "Sarah Palin Kills a Caribou on Her TV Show (but Misses Target Five Times)," and The DoDo, February 19, 2015, "Seven Bonehead Things Sarah Palin Has Done to Animals.")

Looked down upon as a social and political pariah by most decent folks, Palin is, quite understandably, eternally grateful for being invited out to eat with the Trumper. "A great night at the White House," she is quoted as cooing by The Star Ledger. "Thank you to President Trump for the invite!"

The chow apparently was not bad either. The "dinner was beyond superb," she gushed to The Press of Atlantic City on April 21st. (See "Palin, Ted Nugent, Kid Rock Join Trump at White House.") Thanks to "the outstanding White House staff, chefs, Secret Service, and of course the president for making it such a special evening."

In that light, the irony of having gone from being hunted by the Secret Service to being protected by it surely could not have been lost on Nugent. The only difficult part of the equation for him must have been refraining from splitting his sides laughing.

Palin with One of the Many Caribous That She Has Killed

Even though the highfalutin fare served up at such tony joints as 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue doubtlessly has it appeal for souls as coarse as those that belong to Palin, Nugent, and Rock, generally speaking it is much too heavy and voluminous for sensitive palates. A much simpler fare consisting of rye bread, Kalamata olives, cheese, and yogurt would be far preferable.

It is even entirely conceivable that a bloke might make out just as well at any one of Washington's numerous soup runs. At least the company would be a step up in this world.

The only drama of the evening came when the members of the Achse des Bösen took a much needed break from gouging themselves and feeding their ugly little faces in order to pose mockingly in front of a very old portrait of Rodham "and Gomorrah." Unless she is planning on entering the fray in 2020, their behavior can only be classified as a classic case of vindictiveness coupled with the tasteless beating a dead horse.

Since the sit-down affair was closed to the media, the only details of what transpired have come courtesy of Nugent and Palin. That has not deterred the former's fellow rockers, however, from putting in their two cents' worth.

"This picture says it all...two of the most insincere smiles in history," David Crosby of the legendary 1960's apostles of rock, Crosby, Stills, Nash, and Young (CSNY), proclaimed to Rolling Stone on April 21st. (See "Ted Nugent, David Crosby Spar over White House Visit.") "What a pair of assholes!"

That also marked the first time in recent memory that anything other than either a frown or a scowl has been seen on the Trumper's dour map. The only logical conclusion to be drawn for that startling development is that he only lets down his hair when he is surrounded by kindred spirits.

Even though that nothing short of superlative opening salvo pretty much said it all, Crosby was not through just yet. "Nugent is a brainless twit..." he continued to Rolling Stone. "I can outthink him without even trying hard."

True to form, the always combative Nugent took the bait like a rat to cheese. "David Crosby, he's kind of a lost soul, and he's done so much substance abuse throughout his life that his logic meter is gone," he chimed to Rolling Stone. "His reasoning and depth of understanding is pretty much gone, so it doesn't surprise me. I feel quite sad for the guy."

After he had mulled over the matter for a few days, Nugent's pity gave way to his customary preference for confrontation and that is when he challenged Crosby to a public debate. (See The Washington Times, April 25, 2017, "Nugent Throws Down Debate Gauntlet after David Crosby's Trump Rants: 'Anytime, Anywhere'.")

Rock, Palin, and Nugent Mock Rodham

That certainly is a chicken-hearted response from someone as notoriously violent as Nugent. If he were a real man, he would have challenged Crosby to a duel to the death.

The reason that he demurred is that he only has enough guts in order to gun down defenseless cats and other animals. When it comes to facing off against an opponent who is quite capable of nailing his rotten hide to his barn door, Nugent reveals himself to be nothing more than a rank coward and a blowhard.

It was at this juncture that Crosby's bandmate, Graham Nash, decided to enter this rather public pissing match and he did so by floating the possibility of a CSNY reunion tour. "Here's how I feel about it: I believe that the issues that are keeping us apart pale in comparison to the good that we can do if we get out there and start talking about what's happening," he told Variety on April 20th. (See "Crosby, Stills, Nash, and Young Could Reunite -- Because They Hate Trump More Than Each Other.") "So I'd be totally up for it even though I'm not talking to David and neither is Neil (Young). But I think we're smart people in the end and I think we realize the good that we can do."

Even so that is not going to be an easy feat to pull off under those circumstances. Plus, the members of the band have issues that go back decades.

David "has been fucking awful. I've been there and saved his fucking ass for forty-five years, and he treated me like shit..." Nash exclaimed only last year. "David has ripped the heart out of Crosby, Stills, Nash, and Young."

As far as the fourth horseman of that happy quartet that convened at the White House on April 19th is concerned, very little has been reported by the media concerning his views on cats and other animals. It therefore is assumed, correctly or incorrectly, that he not only does not own any animals but that he fully shares the views and supports the abhorrent behavior of his dinner guests.

Unverified online reports, however, maintain that his two eldest sons, Eric and Donald Jr., are trophy hunters. In particular, during a trip to Zimbabwe they allegedly killed a civet, an elephant, a crocodile, a Kudu, and a waterbuck.

Moreover, his appointees to head the departments of the Interior and Agriculture as well as the Environmental Protection Agency, Ryan Zinke, Sonny Perdue, and Scott Pruitt respectively, are anything but animal lovers. None of the foregoing should be misconstrued, however, as to imply that Obama and the Democrats ever did anything positive for cats and other animals, but that is a topic that will have to wait for another day.

In conclusion, there cannot be any denying that the executive branch of the national government is now firmly in the hands of a criminal gang of moral retards who not only hate cats but do not have any noticeable regard whatsoever for other animals and Mother Earth. By freely choosing to dine with rotters like Nugent, Rock, and Palin, Trump not only has exposed himself for what he is but in the process he has brought down shame upon both the office of the president and the country as well.

Photos: Facebook (Nugent and Trump, Rock and Nugent with a dead cougar, and the Achse des Bösen in front of Rodham's portrait), and the Daily Mail (Palin with a dead caribou).

Monday, April 17, 2017

As Peat Tragically Found Out, Alcohol and Cats Are Such a Bad Mix That Even Working at a Distillery Can Be Deadly


"The Glenturret Distillery team are heartbroken. He was inquisitive, fearless and a social cat and we will miss him terribly."
-- Lesley Williamson

Alcohol and cats never have been a good mix under any circumstances. For in addition to the litany of utterly despicable crimes that are perpetrated against them by individuals laboring under Dionysus' sway, there are yet still other cretins who intentionally pollute their tiny bodies and minds with a deoch am dorais.

Even the mere acceptance of employment at a distillery in exchange for room and board can be lethal to cats as Peat tragically found out on September 8, 2014 when he was run down and killed by a hit-and-run driver outside the Glenturret Distillery, located three kilometers northwest of Crieff in Perthshire. Found lying beside the road by an unidentified staffer, he was rushed to a local veterinarian where, with distillery manager Neil Cameron looking on, he shortly thereafter either died on his own or was deliberately killed off.

As if that were not horrific enough in its own right, the petit light-brown and white kitten with captivatingly beautiful blue eyes was only six months old and had been on the job for just a little over two months. No one ever was arrested and it is highly unlikely that any of the local authorities even so much as bothered to open a cursory inquiry into the matter.

Ever since its genesis as a an illegal bootlegging operation on the banks of the Turret River way back in 1717, Glenturret has undergone many reincarnations and name changes over the course of the years but resident felines always have been the one constant. Although they were originally recruited as mousers in order to safeguard its grain reserves from rodents, they nowadays have been largely supplanted in that role by professional exterminators.

In their case, however, the Luddites' very real concern about technology eliminating jobs and thus leading to high employment has proven to be unfounded. That is because just as one window of opportunity was closing for them, another one was swinging wide open.

Consequently, cats are in even greater demand than ever these days at the ancient distillery, but they are no longer expected to catch mice. On the contrary, all that is required of them is that they meet, greet, and indulge the whims, such as posing for photographs, of the more than one-hundred-thousand visitors who annually trek to the facility.

In that endeavor, there can be little doubt that Peat was preeminently successful, even if his tenure was destined to have been a brief one. That was so much the case in fact that he already had attracted more than eight-hundred followers on Twitter at the time of his murder.

"The fluffy little bundle has been charming his way into our visitors' hearts this week, has already made himself at home in our new Tasting Bar and is showing signs of settling in nicely," is how that the distillery's Lesley Williamson summed up his immediate impact upon arrival to The Press and Journal of Aberdeen on June 18, 2014. (See "Kitten Takes Up New Distillery Role.")

Peat Was Hardly the Size of a Bottle of Scotch When He Was Killed

Peat was chosen over nine other kittens that had been born on a local farm belonging to Shona Stewart and she had been hoping that his newfound notoriety would motivate members of the public to offer homes to some of those that had been left behind. "We've been so pleased to see Peat settling into his new role at the Famous Grouse Experience (a highfalutin moniker for a tour of the plant and a free shot of scotch) and he seems to have caught the imagination of the local and, indeed, world press," she told the Daily Record of Glasgow on August 26, 2014. (See "Peat the Glenturret Distillery Cat's Quest to Find Homes for His Brothers and Sisters.") "I'm really hoping that we find good homes for his siblings and cousins, some of whom are similar in coloring to Peat, and are just as cute."

That certainly was a noble idea but the criminal motorist had other plans in store for Peat and his death certainly did not make Stewart's task any easier. It also left a big void at the distillery.

"The Glenturret Distillery team are (sic) heartbroken," Williamson told The Press and Journal on September 10, 2014. (See "Peat the Distillery Cat Dies after Being Struck by a Car.") "He was inquisitive, fearless and a social cat and we will miss him terribly."

Ironically, it was precisely those characteristics coupled with the distillery's utterly appalling lack of concern for his personal safety that cost Peat his life. Even more inexcusably, staffers had been forewarned of the dangers that he was flirting with when sometime earlier he had gotten stranded up a tree and had to be rescued. Yet, even that brush with disaster proved to be insufficient in order to persuade them to take better care of him.

Far from being an isolated case, quite a few of the cats and kittens shanghaied into servitude at Glenturret have either died or disappeared without so much as a trace. For instance, Peat's predecessor was a tom named Barley who arrived, courtesy of the charity Cats Protection, in September of 2012 but he likewise lasted only a little over a year on the job before mysteriously disappearing sometime during the winter of 2013-2014.

"We were very sorry to lose Barley, however, the team are (sic) truly delighted to welcome Peat to our Glenturret Distillery family," was all that Williamson had to tell The Press and Journal on that subject back on June 18, 2014.

Earlier in 2005, the booze purveyors brought on board a longhaired, even-tempered tuxedo named Brooke from Cats Protection's Cardyke Center near Glasgow. At that same time, they also adopted a gregarious ginger and white tom named Dylan from Cats Protection's Frofar branch in Angus County.

As is the case with all shelter cats, Brooke and Dylan had their own sad stories. Specifically, she had been a former stray whereas he had wound up on the street after his owner had died.

Brooke and Dylan Did Not Last Long at Glenturret

"We are delighted to finally have not one but two cats in position at the distillery and we are sure the charismatic Dylan and the beautiful Brooke will soon be firm favorites," Carol McLaren of the distillery told Pet Planet on June 30, 2005. (See "Cats Protection Felines Are New Top Cats.") "Dylan has already thrown himself into the spirit of things, clearly keen to make a good impression in his first days on the job and helping our team to extend a very warm welcome to our visitors."

Cats Protection was equally effusive. "...with thousands of cats in our care, we were confident we could find just the right feline for them, and we were thrilled when they decided to adopt two of the three final contenders," the organization's Helen Ralston crowed to Pet Planet. "Dylan and Brooke won't let them down. They are lovely cats, just perfect for the job."

That in itself is an utterly appalling attitude, especially coming as it does from an animal welfare group. The crucial concern in placing cats is not whether they will fulfill the expectations of their new guardians, but rather that the latter faithfully execute their custodial obligations to the former.

Moreover, that is a far cry from the position that Cats Protection's Moray Branch later took toward twenty-nine-year-old Suzi Gallagher of Elgin, two-hundred-eighty kilometers north of Edinburgh, and her adopted cat, Bramble. In her case, the charity improvised a ruse in order to confiscate Bramble because she had violated its edict by allowing the cat out into her garden. (See the Aberdeen Evening Express, July 25, 2013, "Animal Charity Admits 'Error of Judgment' to Reclaim Cat from North-East Family.")

For reasons that never have been publicly explained, neither Brooke nor Dylan lasted very long at Glenturret with the former dying in 2011 and the latter preceding her in death at some undisclosed time before that. The historical record would not be complete, however, without mentioning that the third cat in the mix, Jet Li, was adopted by an employee after having been rejected by the distillery.

Described as a "strikingly handsome chap" he, like Brooke, came from Cats Protection's Cardyke Center, but other than that absolutely nothing is known about him. It nevertheless is safe to conclude that, if against all odds, he should still be alive today that would constitute a rather compelling argument in favor of placing cats in traditional homes as opposed to fobbing them off on bloodsucking capitalists to neglect and exploit to the hilt.

Brooke and Dylan had replaced a cat named Amber who died in 2004 but nothing else is known about her, not even when she first arrived at Glenturret. The exact opposite is the case with her illustrious predecessor, a longhaired tortoiseshell named Towser, who most definitely left her paw prints all over not only the distillery but cat lore as well.

Most notably, during her twenty-four years in residence, which spanned the divide separating 1963 and 1987, she was credited by Guinness World Records with having killed an utterly astounding twenty-eight-thousand, eight-hundred-ninety-nine mice! Her fame was such that during her lifetime she was featured on the long-running BBC children's program, Blue Peter.

Towser Killed Almost Twenty-Nine-Thousand Mice

Even though she has been dead for thirty years, she is far from forgotten. Most notably, she lives on in the form of a bronze statue that is located in the visitors' center of the distillery. A replica of her paw prints also can be found on the labels of the now very rare and difficult to find Fairlie's Light Highland Liqueur.

Perhaps most remarkable of all, her longevity stands in stark contrast to the exceedingly brief tenures of her successors. Although it is by no means certain, it nonetheless could be that she owed her long life to her job description.

C-est-à-dire, as principally a mouser, she very well may have been permanently confined indoors whereas those cats that have followed her have been turned loose to roam the perilous roads surrounding the distillery as soon as they were no longer needed to charm tourists. It additionally is conceivable that during her lifetime Crieff had considerably fewer residents, and by extension motorists, than it currently does with a population of just under seven-thousand souls.

As William Shakespeare pointed out in Act 2, Scene 1 of The Tempest, "what's past is prologue" and that certainly has proven to be the case in regard to those unfortunate felines that have followed in Peat's paw prints. For example in July of 2015, the distillery acquired another pair of kittens, Glen I and Turret, as his replacements.

"Glen is, at eight-weeks-old, very timed and quietly inquisitive while Turret, on the other hand, is a tabby on a mission," the distillery's Stuart Cassells told The Scotsman of Edinburgh on July 30, 2015. (See "Famous Grouse Enlist (sic) Two New Distillery Cats.") "He's a month older than Glen and into absolutely everything from climbing, including your leg, to playing with whatever or whoever (sic) he can find."

The decision to recruit two kittens as opposed to one has been attributed to a love of the species coupled with an acknowledgement of their psychological needs. "The whole team at Glenturret are (sic) thrilled to welcome some new little furry team members and we have decided to home two kittens instead of one so we can have twice the fun," Cassells explained. "There is a lot of evidence to suggest that it is good for a cat's development to be around other cats as they are very social animals. They are also less likely to venture as far, so we have welcomed the cute and very mischievous Glen and Turret."

Leaving aside the fact that both kittens were taken away from their mothers way too soon, it is strongly suspected that Glenturret's true motivation in adopting them was to have at least one cat left should anything happen to the other one. Whether or not there is any truth in that observation, it certainly proved to be prescient in that Glen fell ill almost as soon as he was installed at the distillery and either died on his own or was deliberately killed off during the same month of his arrival.

"The whole team at Glenturret were (sic) so very sad about Glen's passing, but none more so than Turret," Cassells confided to The Spirit Business of London on December 9, 2015. (See "Glenturret Mouser Gets New Furry Friend.") "We knew we had to get him a friend to play with and we searched extensively. Finally we found a kitten around the same age and who was clearly in good health, and both cats were successfully introduced to each other."

The Ill-Fated Glen I and Turret

The result of that search was the hiring of an indomitable kitten who since has been dubbed as Glen II. "I must say, though, that Glen clearly thinks he's the boss and Turret isn't quite up for relinquishing his cozy spot underneath the still quite yet," Cassells continued to The Spirit Business. "Glen particularly likes to be front and center when there's a tour in, and has found a spot on top of a whisky cask where he gets maximum attention. A true showman, and a natural in the role!"

There is not any proven connection, but it is just possible that Turret is feeling somewhat overshadowed and neglected these days by the newcomer and that just might account for why he did a runner in February of this year. The details are rather sketchy but apparently he was AWOL for at least a week or longer before he turned up at Crieff Hydro, nearly three kilometers south of the distillery on the A85.

More than likely that would have been the last that the whisky makers ever saw and heard of him if a staffer at Crieff Hydro had not posted a notice about him on Facebook. As a consequence, someone connected with the distillery just happened to see it and Turret shortly thereafter was returned home. (See the Fife Free Press of Kirkcaldy, February 16, 2017, "Distillery Cat Was Just 'Feline' Like a Holiday.")

The media have reported that the distillery searched for him "in the immediate area," but he quite obviously had wandered considerably farther afield. That petit fait alone calls into question its commitment to him and its other cats because once a search of nearby areas has failed to bear fruit it is imperative that the scope of such an effort be dramatically expanded.

Even under the best of circumstances locating a missing cat is nearly an impossible task; nevertheless, throwing in the towel should not be an option. In such cases, owners must be willing to commit the time and resources that are required in order to look both high and low because a cat could be either hiding inside a wall at home or halfway across the country, especially should it become trapped inside a motor vehicle.

The picture that emerges of Glenturret's guardianship of the innumerable cats that have resided under its roof for the past fifty-four years is a decidedly mixed one. On the positive side of the ledger, it is to be commended for opening up its doors, if not indeed its hearts, to cats and thus saving their lives by adopting. Also as far as it is known, all of its resident felines have received adequate amounts of food, water, heat, shelter and, possibly, even veterinary care.

Most importantly of all, the company's public image has not been sullied by any reports of abuse and that includes the type that saloon crooner Wilbur Willard served up to his cat. "...when Lillian is a little kitten I always put a little scotch in her milk, partly to help make her good and strong, and partly because I am never no hand to drink alone, unless there is nobody with me," he explained in Damon Runyon's famous short-story, "Lillian," which first appeared in the February 1, 1930 edition of Collier's. "Well, at first Lillian does not care so much for this scotch in her milk, but finally she takes a liking to it, and I keep making her toddy stronger until in the end she will lap up a good snort without any milk for a chaser, and yell for more. In fact, I suddenly realize that Lillian becomes a rumpot, just like I am in those days, and simply must have her grog..."

Glen II and Turret in Front of a Statue of Towser

On the negative side of the equation, its abysmal failure to satisfactorily provide for the personal safety of its cats constitutes an unpardonable disgrace. In particular, it treats them as valuable company assets during business hours only to hypocritically turn around and cast them out on the street evenings, nights, weekends, and holidays. Moreover, that assessment does not even begin to take into consideration the quality of care that it provided to the hundreds, if not indeed thousands, of forever nameless and forgotten mousers who slaved away for it during the first two and one-half centuries of its existence.

Its shabby, uncaring treatment of its cats has therefore demonstrated once again that before any meaningful improvements can be made in the welfare of felines everywhere the age-old myth that they are capable of taking care of themselves, especially when pitted against a monster as thoroughly evil as man, must be debunked. (See Cat Defender post of October 9, 2015 entitled "A Lynch Mob Comprised of Dishonest Eggheads from the University of Lincoln Issues Another Scurrilous Broadside Against Cats by Declaring That They Do Not Need Guardians in Order to Safeguard Their Fragile Lives.")

Another bare-faced lie that also desperately needs to be relegated to the dust bin of history is that they are self-sufficient loners; au contraire, nothing could be further from the truth. In fact, they require almost constant attention as well as supervision and that in turn means that they, generally speaking, fare much better in homes where at least one guardian is present at all times.

Unless they are left intact and therefore are on the prowl for a mate, they only roam out of boredom and neglect. Knowledgeable owners therefore know that two of the best means of keeping them contented at home is to interact with them frequently throughout the day and night and to supply them with treats from time to time.

All of that is self-evident to any halfway observant ailurophile and yet both the universities and the capitalist media continue to pretend that they need to be convinced. (See The Washington Post, April 3, 2017, "Shocker: Some Cats Like People More Than Food or Toys.")

The reasons for their intransigence are as old as time itself. "It is difficult to get a man to understand something when his salary depends upon his not understanding it," Upon Sinclair observed in his 1935 book, I, Candidate for Governor: And How I Got Licked and, translated to the intellectual community, that means simply that there is far too much research money available and too many cats to be tortured as guinea pigs for it to ever willingly renounce one of its most cherished and lucrative lies.

In Glenturret's case, the easiest and most humane solution would be for it to have its staffers take Turret and Glen II home with them each evening and to keep them with them on weekends and holidays. That way they would be able to avail themselves of a lion's share of the benefits commonly associated with having a traditional home, such as security, supervision, and constant companionship, while the distillery would still be able to continue to reap a financial bonanza by way of the invaluable contributions that they are making to its bottom line as cute and cuddly public relations props.

As far as Cats Protection is concerned, it once again has demonstrated through its procurement and delivery upon a silver platter of, inter alia, Brooke, Dylan, and Barley to Glenturret that it is far more concerned with sucking up to money than it is ever going to be with looking after the legitimate needs of the cats that are under its care. That, in a nutshell, is the overarching problem with just about all animal rescue groups.

Not surprisingly, a thorough lack of respect for the sanctity of feline life almost always accompanies an abiding love of shekels. (See Cat Defender posts of August 26, 2015 and February 17, 2016 entitled, respectively, "A Myriad of Cruel and Unforgivable Abandonments, a Chinese Puzzle, and Finally the Handing Down and Carrying Out of a Death Sentence Spell the End for Long-Suffering and Peripatetic Tigger" and "Cats Protection Races to Alfie's Side after His Owner Dies and He Winds Up on the Street, Swears It Is going to Help Him, and Then Turns Around and Has Him Whacked.")

Turret's Life Is in Grave Danger 

Finally, there cannot be any denying that alcohol is one of the greatest evils ever invented by man. In fact, David Nutt is on record as classifying it as being far more harmful to society than either heroin or crack cocaine.

"Overall, alcohol is the most harmful drug because it's so widely used," he told the BBC on November 1, 2010. (See "Alcohol 'More Harmful Than Heroin,' Says Professor David Nutt.")
"Crack cocaine is more addictive than alcohol but because alcohol is so widely used there are hundreds of thousands of people who crave alcohol every day, and those people will go to extraordinary lengths to get it."

Whereas the vast majority of cat-haters never have needed any Dutch courage in order to carry out their despicable crimes, it nevertheless is well-documented that some of them have done so while under its influence. (See Cat Defender posts of September 18, 2008, November 24, 2009, August 17, 2009, October 30, 2010, and November 25, 2015 entitled, respectively, "Drunken Brute Beats, Stabs, and Then Hurls Fifi to Her Death Against the Side of a House in Limerick," "Kilo's Killer Walks in a Lark but the Joke Is on the Disgraceful English Judicial System," "America's Insane Love Affair with Criminals Continues as a Drunkard Who Sliced Open Scatt with a Box Cutter Gets off with Time on the Water Wagon," "Drunken Bum Is Foiled in a Macabre Plot to Make a Meal Out of Kittens, Nirvana and Karma, That He Allegedly Ran Down Earlier with His Truck," and "A Cruel Teenage Drunkard and Dope Addict Who Bound a Cat and a Dog with Tape Before Killing Them Is Let Off Easy by a Calgary Court.")

An all-consuming love of the bottle also has been responsible for Animal Control officers neglecting the welfare of the cats and other animals under their supervision. (See Cat Defender post of August 31, 2006 entitled "An Animal Control Officer Goes on a Drunken Binge and Leaves Four Cats and a Dog to Die of Thirst, Hunger, and Heat at a Massachusetts Shelter.")

On Kangaroo Island, Barry Green slaughters cats in droves just so that he can stay sloshed day and night on beer. (See Cat Defender post of April 4, 2017 entitled "A Mass Murderer of Cats, Entrepreneur, Medicine Man, and Artist Are Just a Few of the Many Hats That Are Worn by a "Hands-On Environmentalist" on Kangaroo Island.")

In addition to abusing cats, drunkards also have a long and checkered history of venting their spleens on horses. "I only wish all the drunkards could be put in a lunatic asylum instead of being allowed to run foul of sober people," Anna Sewell wrote in her 1877 classic, Black Beauty. "If there's one devil that I should like to see in the bottomless pit more than another, it's the devil drink."

Despite the enormous harm done to cats, individuals, and society, there simply is not any known means of slaking man's unquenchable thirst for gorilla juice. "It is a pleasure to souls to become moist," the presocratic philosopher Heraclitus acknowledged long ago before astutely adding that "the dry soul is the wisest and the best."

About the only thing positive to have been said about alcohol came courtesy of eighteenth century English lexicographer Samuel Johnson. "There are some sluggish men who are improved by drinking, as there are fruits that are not good until they are rotten," he once opined.

Although it is highly improbable that he could have presaged the startling emergence upon the political scene of the current leaseholder at 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue in Washington, that particular individual nevertheless is precisely the type of blighter that Johnson had in mind when he uttered those remarks. It accordingly is almost superfluous to point out that such a teetotaling, perennial old sourpuss as him would be well served by an occasional belt of Glenturret's single malt scotch.

Photos: The Scotsman (Peat and Glen I with Turret), the BBC (Peat beside a bottle), Alan Richardson of Pet Planet (Brooke and Dylan), the Daily Record (Towser), The Spirit Business (Glen II and Towser), and the Fife Free Press (Turret by himself).