There is this strange phenomenon that is happening because of Internet awareness. Some people are supporting the rescue of meat dogs, revoltingly “raised” in other countries. A meat dog is not a pet dog. But we are fooled by their outward appearance and suffering. (The way we raise egg and food chickens here is similar. But few are rushing in to save the poultry.)
These dogs have no longevity, no “consciousness” that is created through lineage of cooperation with humans. They are not dogs in the way that the American mind thinks of the word. Yet they get purchased and imported by our empathy money, and then they are tortured here, fully because of our confusion with their original role in the universe.
Nyasha’s workplace is a dog daycare, dog boarding space, with a side story in dog rescue.
Nyasha’s company does not import or support the import of these animals. But they do end up picking up the pieces. The dogs become sick and stray. They run from good homes. People who try to adopt them go to their wits end, trying to convert the meat animals into pet animals, with little success. They end up in rescue status.
One dog that the group is caring for now is in constant physical distress. It cannot eat properly, and gets pneumonia repeatedly from aspirating its food. The vet said he will die. Soon. Another meat dog rescue has white cell crashes. Very young dogs, designed to be edible, not for life. What a mess!
These are the “luckier” examples (although the dogs might prefer a quick injection to leave this miserable existence). They are lucky because they, through unpleasant pathways, ended up at Nyasha’s workplace.
The business owner goes to great lengths to balance their quality and quantity of life. The standard vet sees the first dog as currently terminal. But Terry takes the dogs for acupuncture, learns what medical massage will help, works with a naturopath and dog dietician. I would love to be adopted by Terry, because she buys the organic foods, the supplements, and ensures the best care. She cooks for them! That dog eats emu meatballs, rotating proteins.
Do we do this for ourselves, care for ourselves, give ourselves the best food, the best caregivers and supplements? Do we, can we afford to, give the time to, sacrifice for the best of all forms of care?
Quality and quantity of life are a rugged conundrum. Every day is a new chance to face the adventure. Every day there are well made choices. And when I speak for myself, everyday there are choices I wish I would have done differently.