During times of economic melt down, it is the animals that have to do without first.
When people become homeless or feel the need to emigrate, which happens often in South Africa, it is the dependent trusting family pet that has to be left behind.
We are retiring soon and are facing the problem of not knowing what to do about Amber. We rescued Amber from the bush. She was unable to care for herself, so we guess that her mother died or that she was dumped as a kitten. She looked like a six-week-old kitten and she was covered with ticks. I pulled 42 tics from her little body that day.
We discovered that she must have been about eight months old when she was diagnosed as being pregnant. She delivered four live kittens.
When we adopted Onesock, a few years ago, Amber remained in the room that we locked her in when she first came to our house and also the room where she gave birth to her kittens, for over a year. She would not come out, even though Onesock was a puppy when we got her.
When we have visitors, Amber hides so no one can find her.
She trusts only my husband, Onesock, and myself who she now bosses around.
I do not know how much she understands of what we say, because I discussed her situation, of not leaving the room, about a year after we adopted Onesock, and wondered if it would not be kinder if we 'put her to sleep' because she did not seem to have any quality of life. The very next day she came out and spit at the dog then showed her all her infantry; a set off sharp teeth and nails to math. She showed her who was boss, as if she wanted to say if anyone needs to be 'put asleep' it should be this invader.
Now she has another fearful journey ahead. A life full of strangers and no familiar space to hide in. We do not know yet, what we will do. We would hate to see her suffer when we relocate, but perhaps change is something she needs to experience. At least we will be there to cuddle her when she is fearful.
HERE IS A LINK THAT MAY INTEREST YOU
Uitsig Animal Rescue Centre
A blog for dogs who take their owners on daily WALKIES.
I, Onesock Dog, was born in a Cape Town squatter-camp.
My first daddy put me in a P&P plastic bag and tried to sell me, at the traffic lights on Blaauwberg rd., for booze money.
BAT (The Blaauwberg Animal Trust) and My New Daddy saved on me on New Year’s Eve 2005.
Thanks Daddy for not letting me become a Pit-bull- practice has-been.