Animal Farm
When you have a lot of animals, more than most people would assume to be reasonable, you hope that your neighbours won't complain. Who, after all, wants to live next door to someone who is so ga-ga about dogs that they have seven of them, even if they prove their heart is in the right place by adopting dogs abandoned by previous owners? Even if the dogs range from full-size German Shepherds to middling-sized Shelties, to pocket-size Pomeranians and Chihuahuas? Even if the dogs are never permitted out of doors other than in the presence of their owner? And to know that there is also a cat lurking about in the house in the midst of all those dogs...? Wait: there's also six house rabbits. The very thought of all those animals inhabiting a house next to yours is enough to make most people go into a tizzy of allergic reactions, and protests are on the way.Well, what if you're the person who has all of those animals, and you move into a new home and directly across from your new abode is another belonging to a person whose love of animals is even more all-embracing than your own? What if this person has, in her personal menagerie, two horses, a pony, six dogs of various sizes, four geese, fifteen chickens, a cat, three miniature goats, four kids, and a parrot. And all of these animals were acquired as a result of the fact that their previous owners no longer wanted them?
Good thing your new neighbour was once employed as a veterinarian technician, so she has a fairly good idea what these animals need and how to maintain them. Sad that she once was a case worker for the Humane Society and got so discouraged, so burned out, so outraged at what she so commonly saw and confronted that she had to go on sick leave, never to return to her post, despite her passion for trying to make the lives of companion animals more humane, their owners more considerate and alert to animals' needs.
It's a classic: you've met your match. And then some.
The thing is, most people who don't love animals and do not live with any of them are likely unaware that each and every one of these animals has a singular personality. As alike as they may seem within species, each one behaves differently, perceives and reacts in their own inimitable way. You know the various personalities of your own little zoo, and slowly become aware of, accustomed to, and appreciative of, the personalities inherent in the zoo across the street. What an experience.
One of the horses is quite old and happy not to be noticed, other than having its creature needs met on time. The other, a two-year-old mare, is very standoffish and shy, but incredibly, is taken with you and wants to be around you, to nuzzle with you, to have you understand its need for attention from you, only you. The pony likes to be noticed too, and especially loves children, so it's a perfect match for your nine-year-old daughter.
The tiniest dog across the street, a lightweight poodle/maltese mix named Hiccough, needs you to pop her into the front of your jacket as you move about doing things, looking after all of them in the absence of their mistress who has gone to another province for a family funeral. One of the female goats, a sheepish-appearing angora, loves your attention, and willl gently butt your backside to get it. Two of the kids, rejected after birth by their mother, require to be fed by bottle. The smallest of them, with the colouration of a Jersey cow, has been so named, and Jersey trots after you like a fixated dog. He'd very much like you to ditch Hiccough and carry him about as you so often do.
The hens, both black barred-rock and Rhode Island red, are sitting on eggs. Got to watch out for the rooster, because he's one cantankerous trouble-maker, not averse to chasing and nipping when the mood takes him. And it does, often. As for the Muscovies, that drake has a downright murderous attitude. In fact, two weeks earlier he attacked and killed a smaller drake; nature red in claw.
The Basset hounds are three, one of whom hates this damp, cold wet weather and looks utterly miserable out in it, waiting anxiously to be able to rush back into the house. Two Daschounds as well, both of whose tempers can be sometimes volatile, sometimes doggy-happy; either of whom can be guaranteed to turn deadly against an animal they aren't familiar with, smaller than they are.
The parrot! We forgot the parrot! He wants attention too. He's still mourning the loss of his companion, in an unfortunate wood-stove fire, summer-before-last. They all want to be fed, to be noticed, to be cossetted, however briefly.
Damn! it's muck-thick in the horse paddock. Good thing you wore your tall green Wellies; you'll have to wash them up well afterward. Better check the kids' formula; will there be enough of it for the next three days before their owner returns? Running a bit low on the wet dog food; will have to dole it out a bit more carefully than the dry. Will have to telephone her partner's father to get a bale of hay down for the horses; running low, too.
Well, will you have a look at that? Just yesterday evening the ducks were still sitting on that egg, now here's a yolk-yellow gosling, chirping away frantically.
posted by Pieface @ Sunday, April 23, 2006
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