Today, October 18, we celebrate the birthday of Saturday Lamb. She rolled into our world almost three years ago and crash landed into our hearts. Although her congenital spasticity has robbed her of the proper functioning of her back legs it has not robbed her of her zest for life. Daily, aided by her custom-built wheel chair, Saturday wheels about the sanctuary and rolls into the hearts of all she meets. Her plucky resolve to take each day as it comes it truly inspirational for all she meets. Celebrating her third birthday in style, she did so with her best friends Steddie Eddie and her human folk who wait on her hand and hoof. Tucking into her wheetbix cake, garnished with lucerne and topped with three carrots, Saturday’s verdict was “the day was not baaaad, not baaaad at all”.
All alone, Spice had taken refuge in a nature reserve bordered by a housing estate, walking track and its adjacent busy major arterial highway, and a noisy train line. Whilst life may have seemed okay for the handsome young buck, sadly it was only a matter of time before it would not. And yet again we give thanks to Manfred Zabinskas of Five Free Freedoms Animal Rescue for ensuring this dear, albeit terrified of humans, goat received just the right shot of kindness to rein him in. By just what circumstance Spice was where he was, we will never be entirely sure, but with some of Melbourne’s major abattoirs none too far away, we feel a likely suspect is found.
Every day here at Edgar’s Mission we see the power of kindness, simple acts of human benevolence to make the world a better place for all. And today that kindness kicked in to gear yet again as we flicked the switch and the farm will now be run on solar power during our daylight hours.
Whilst every day little Elmo tickles our chins, seeking the delicious taste and scents of his formula, it wasn’t always so. In fact, upon his arrival, this very young kid goat, who was found abandoned in a forest, refused point blank to feed. We have never in all of our collective lives met a tiny orphan so determined not to feed. We knew the little guy was hungry, as he would cry out, even nibbling on our trouser legs, fingers and chins, but there was absolutely no way on this earth he was going to suckle from that bottle. Absolutely NO WAY! We tried different teats, different methods and different prayers and incantations, but nothing would work. So tube feeding it was, until the day little Elmo said, “Okay, I’ll have my bottle please,” and he has never looked back!!
Today, October 4th, is World Animal Day!!
“As the Australian Ambassador for World Animal Day I implore every one, where ever you are, who ever you may be, to remember this, animals lives matter. Even if they do not matter to you they most certainly matter to the holder of that life. Their life is just as precious to them as yours is to you – and it’s their world too. Happy World Animal Day” Pam Ahern
Message: Hi there, don’t know if you folks can help him or not, but a poor sad looking sheep has been in the pound for a couple of weeks. This morning tore my heart out as I drove past on my way to work, he stood and watched the fully laden truck with hundreds of sheep skins leave the meat works. I had to pull over on the side of the road as I was sobbing so much I couldn’t see to drive. I guess it’s a long shot, but maybe you folks can help him in some way. It was heart wrenching. Continue reading
Some thoughts on World Animal Day 2017
Last night I dined on a feast at my mother’s house: a banquet prepared as only a doting mother can, peppered with love, one’s favourite gastronomic delights, and, in my case, the odd cat hair. And at the centre of it all was a chicken.
Now, a chicken as a centrepiece on the dinner table is hardly surprising or new. In fact, for me, Sunday roasts were once never complete without a roast chicken bathed in gravy, nestled by baked potatoes and vegetables. Last night however, the chicken on the table was very much alive. This handsome devil, my feathered friend, even has a name: ‘Red Baron’.
Red Baron loves dinner at my mum’s house because it is a feast for him too; in a ‘win–win’ situation, he gets treats and we get treated to his quirky and endearing antics, whether it is sneaking a drink from my glass of water, tucking into a bit of spaghetti, squatting down to peer at the TV or taking a snooze on my shoulder. I cannot now imagine seeing chickens as anything other than friends. And I know I am not alone in this thought: many people, through the simple act of noticing chickens, are observing that chickens’ lives are full of possibilities, if only they are given the chance.
Red Baron came to me at only a few days old, a real miracle indeed. He was hatched at an egg production facility (you couldn’t really call it a farm) and, being male (as around 50% of the hatchlings are), he was destined to be killed. But somehow he survived, beating many apparently insurmountable odds; thus overcoming the worst in his life, he was set to enjoy the best, as he found himself on the doorstep of my house and heart and quickly chirped his way into both. My hair became his surrogate mother hen’s wing as he would happily bounce around on my shoulder each day. Going for bike rides, working on the computer and watching over me as I brushed my teeth, Red Baron’s life was rich and full. And so was mine.
Dwarfed by the horses who surrounded him, things were not looking good for the day-old tiny lamb. Adding to the wee chap’s woes were severely contracted tendons in his front legs, which caused him to buckle over and fall. By what circumstance this little lamb arrived in such a dire situation, we will never know, but what we do know is that it is to the good heart of a wildlife carer that he owes his life. Alerted to the plight of the orphan amidst the equines, she swung into gear—a phone call later and the aptly named Tiny Lamb was hoofing his way to Edgar’s Mission.
While little Swagman may well have once been a jolly little lamb as he gambolled beside his dear mum, he was certainly anything but the first time we met him. And it was not only a broken leg that was ailing him, but two mercilessly placed rubber rings. One on his tail and the other on his scrotum, so thoughtlessly and no doubt hurriedly placed the latter had too taken prisoner one of Swagman’s nipples. The sum total of this painful assault on such a vulnerable and immune compromised baby was almost too much for little Swagman to bear. With his pain levels running into overdrive his interest in life and his bottle had started to wan. Wrapping little Swagman in both a blanket and our love we whispered in his little lambie ear, “you’re safe now, you’re going to Edgar’s Mission”.