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On Animal Rights:
For as long as I live I have a responsibility to speak, so I feel that I should take this opportunity to
 express my (and Sherry's too) opinion on animal rights and welfare. For heaven's sake, have
your pet spayed or neutered, and get them to the veterinarian for checkups on a regular basis.
Don't give live animals for pets (especially to small children) but do take the time to visit shelters and look into the faces of those who need a home and someone to love them. Believe me, what you receive in return will be tenfold your investment.
Everywhere you look someone is raising money for a charity to help children and while that
makes me proud of my fellow human beings, we must also take into consideration nature's
children. As a Christian I believe that it is a sin to ignore or neglect an animal and if you don't pay for your sins on earth then you will surely pay afterward. I am at a point in my life where I feel that I should voice my concerns. I want to say that I have little tolerance for people who abuse animals, not because I am any great person, it's just that I cannot handle emotionally, any kind of torture to a living breathing creature. If you feel that you do not have it in you to properly care for and accept responsibilty for pets, then please don't take them home! No animal should live it's life unwanted or connected to a six foot rope.
Preserve the rainforests and do your part in keeping the air and water clean. And
recycle, just because!
The Cats of Prince Street, are pampered house-cats who live in an upstairs apartment at the east end of Prince Street in Truro. These stories are written with special education children in mind proving that even though one might appear different, does not mean that they don't have a story to tell. All the stories deal with real life lessons.
Within My Heart
People in general make assumptions based on their own life experiences and quite often are correct. In other cases they might be well off base. Why don't you decide for yourself...
Since my wife and I have no children of our own it has been assumed by those who do, that our pets have become our children. We have been accused of spoiling them beyond repair and due to something lacking in our lives, accept them as a decent replacement for kids. Perhaps they are right in such assumptions but allow me to explain myself. I love my dog! Let me say it again, I love my dog! She, Rozie is a comical, entertaining clown who worships the very ground I walk on. For the past few years she sits patiently waiting for me to come home from work everyday and gives me such a warm reception when I get here, that I quite often find myself hurrying home just to be near her. She sits at my feet, sleeps in my bed at my feet, takes me for walks, shares my snacks and loves me to pieces. Who, in their right mind could not love that?
There is something about a boy and his dog. At 40 years of age, I am about the biggest boy you will ever meet. I simply refuse to grow up and my dog will attest to that. She fills my heart with joy and love and makes me want to go to any length to protect her. I am smart enough to know that she won't be here forever but I also realize that these days we share are the important ones. Yesterday, a beautiful Nova Scotia summer afternoon, warm and sunny, I sat on my patio deck in a yard that my wife has painstakenly transformed into a flowery haven. We ate a marvelous summer meal and watched the dog chase a butterfly around the back yard. I couldn't help but appreciate my life. My wife and I both work, we have vehicles, a decent home that will someday be paid for and we have a dog. These are the days that fill my heart with love.
On the inside of our modest home we have four house-cats. They are my pets. Each one has their own personality, funny quirks and tastes. Some have some not so funny quirks and poor taste. However! On the wall in our living room hangs a framed black & white portrait of my cat India, a pitch black, green eyed vixen of amazing strength and determination. That girl, was not my pet for fourteen years, she was my daughter. I had never had a closer relationship with anyone, animal or not, than I did with that girl. She didn't sit at the top of the stairs barking and waging her tail when I came home. She didn't take me for walks or even chase butterflies. She simply owned me and that was that. She sat with me if it suited her, she slept in the bed with me if that was to her liking, not at my feet, on my chest. That was her place and she had sole rights to it. She was a determined and willful cat and I think that gave her the will to live to the ripe old age of fourteen despite the fact that she was diagnosed with feline leukemia at the age of four. She opened my eyes to the beauty that is all around me and made me appreciate the color black. She also made me aware that things don't last forever. A hard lesson but a realistic one.
It's been a year since India left me and not a day goes by that she doesn't cross this heart of mine. To tell you truth, I wish she didn't. I could use the break. The last year has been like every other one, I go through the motions, I go to work, I eat my dinner, I walk my dog. All in all I think I handled the whole situation well. I do appreciate my life and all it offers......but......... every once in a while I glance up into that portrait and there within the walls of my heart, she sits quietly and without harm. A pet, oh no people, that's my daughter.
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