Animals and the Afterlife (48 page)

—A
BRAHAM
L
INCOLN

Compassion, in which all ethics must take root, can only attain its full breadth and depth if it embraces all living creatures and does not limit itself to mankind.

—A
LBERT
S
CHWEITZER

I find that those who are doing rescue work on behalf of
animals
are often doing all they can for their fellow
humans
as well. Somehow, compassion toward animals seems to have a ripple effect that expands outward to all areas of life.

On the other hand, I find that the people who make such comments to negate the efforts of those doing animal rescue work are usually doing
nothing
themselves on behalf of animals
or
humans. Perhaps seeing the kind acts of others threatens these people in some way, and that’s what compels them to make such comments. Perhaps it is their own guilt in doing nothing themselves that compels them to downplay the selfless acts of others. Perhaps they have received only criticism in their
own
lives, so that’s all they know. I can’t really say
why
people say the negative and hurtful things they do. One thing I know for sure is that we must never let such comments get us down or cause us to lose hope. Every action makes a difference, and no act goes unnoticed. Those of us who have been deeply touched by the love of an animal often feel compelled to give back in whatever way we can, and when we do, the heavens rejoice.

Always hold firmly to the thought that each one of us can do something to bring some portion of misery to an end.

—
FROM A POSTER BY
B
ONNIE
A
CKER IN
T
OOLS FOR
C
HANGE, THE CATALOG OF
S
YRACUSE
C
ULTURAL
W
ORKERS

R
ATS AS
M
IRRORS

I
AM OFTEN ASKED TO SPEAK
to groups of people about rats, rat rescue, or other animal-related issues. I am always honored to speak on behalf of my wonderful animal friends who have taught me so much. I have spoken to many groups of children and adults alike, and I find it fascinating that, every single time, the children are completely open and receptive to rats. (Of course, I always educate them on the importance of rescuing homeless animals and on responsible animal caretaking.)

The derogatory comments about rats are always delivered by the
adults
, the so-called role models. Perhaps the adults were once open-minded children themselves, but their own role models told
them
who to love and who to despise. I suppose I’m simply one of the lucky few who have been personally touched by these magical little beings.

When I ask the people who make these comments
why
they hate rats, they usually tell me they hate the tails. When I ask them
why
they hate the tails, they tell me it’s because the tails are
naked
. I then pull up my sleeve, exposing my naked arm.

“Like this?” I ask, displaying my arm. I find it so interesting that the part people hate most about rats is the part that is most like
us.
Hmmm …

The more time I’ve spent with rats, the more I’ve come to see them as mirrors of humanity. No matter what we find to despise in them, if we look closely enough, we find that perhaps it’s something we could just as easily despise in ourselves … perhaps more so.

Many years ago, when Jameth and I lived in a small rental on someone else’s property, the landlord showed Jameth some destruction caused by rats. Wild rats had begun building a nest inside the landlord’s pool shed, and he wanted to get rid of the “pests.” Jameth suggested humane live traps and prevention rather than traditional traps or poison, thinking of the well-being of those creatures who were simply building a home.

Later, Jameth described the destruction to me, and I realized that it was
nothing
compared to the destruction humans cause whenever we build
our
homes. We don’t merely cause a little damage in a pool shed; we destroy entire habitats of many animals. In fact, we destroy entire species. I began to wonder who the
real
pests were.

I noticed that the same people who said they detested rats were often quick to defend the use of rats in research. Why?
Well,
they would say,
because we need to learn from them … to help us.
In other words, the same people who claimed we needed the rats to
help
us also claimed to
hate
them. Talk about a slap in the face.

When I learned that rats (as well as dogs, cats, bunnies, monkeys, guinea pigs, and other animals) were (and still are) repeatedly force- fed cosmetics and toxic household cleaners—or gassed, injected, or blinded with
known
toxins—to “see what happens,” it occurred to me that, if anything,
they
should hate
us
. Tolstoy once said, “What I think about vivisection [animal experimentation] is that if people admit that they have the right to take or endanger the life of a living being for the benefit of many, there will be no limit to their cruelty.” How true his words have proven to be.

Mercy is a universal duty, and it cannot be withheld from any of God’s creatures.

—R
EVEREND
H
ENRY
P
RIMATT
, D.D.
(16
^TH
-
CENTURY
A
NGLICAN PRIEST
)

As I contemplated the human-rat relationship, I looked at rats from many different perspectives: the origins of the Year of the Rat (the rat is the very first animal on the Chinese calendar and is also considered a symbol of prosperity in both China and Japan); the way rats are revered and even hand-fed in a temple in India (and other parts of the world, past and present); and the image of rats here in America, where, ironically, we engage in behavior most similar to that which we say we despise in rats.

I thought about the “rat race,” which would more accurately be called the “human race,” and I explored the other slang terms involving the word “rat” (for example, the term “ratty” is often used to describe that which is unkempt, whereas rats are actually meticulous about their grooming).

I looked at the overcrowding of wild rats in some areas, not unlike the overcrowding of our own species in the same areas. I thought about all the human litter and leftover food that often entices wild animals into our habitats in the first place. I noticed the way we tend to point fingers at rats (which often should be pointed at ourselves). I looked at the intelligence of rats, their social order, and their will to survive.

I recalled a true story I had read somewhere, about a beautiful scene observed by a man who once despised rats. He was preparing to kill some of these “pests,” but then he witnessed a wild rat helping another rat, who was handicapped, across the road. He was a changed man.

As I contemplated all of this, I began to formulate a theory. If humanity could only learn to see rats—who usually symbolize the bottom of the barrel, the most despised of all animals—as worthy of our respect and compassion, then perhaps respect and compassion for all other animals would follow. And perhaps if we as a society can learn to deal more compassionately with the animals, we’ll learn to deal more compassionately with
each other
.

If man is not to stifle human feelings, he must practice kindness toward animals, for he who is cruel to animals becomes hard also in his dealings with men. We can judge the heart of a man by his dealings with animals.

—I
MMANUEL
K
ANT

O
NE DAY THERE WAS A MESSAGE
on my answering machine from a young woman who said she worked at a local preschool and was wondering if I could help out with one of the “classroom pets.” The classroom pet was a rat, and when I called her back, she gave me the details. She said that this rat had a
huge
tumor, but the school wasn’t willing to pay for any veterinary care and wouldn’t even pay to have the rat euthanized. She said she had called the local Humane Society, and a woman there had given her my phone number, as word had gotten out that I rescue rats. The young woman told me she would be leaving the school and moving out of town the following week, so she wanted to make sure the rat was taken care of before she left.

Upon further questioning, I learned that the rat’s tumor was nearly the size of the rat herself, and her arm was embedded in it. She was living in a small aquarium on improper bedding (cedar shavings, which are unhealthful for rats), together with another rat. Both of them had labored breathing and didn’t look very healthy, according to the young woman.

“We’ve got to get this rat out of here,” she said. “This just isn’t good for the children.” When she said this, I got the strong sense that she was just repeating what the other teachers had said. As we spoke further and I voiced my opinion about how cruel and unacceptable the situation was, she quietly agreed. It was obvious that she was the only one there who cared. Yet another case of an animal whose only purpose was to serve the whims of humans—humans who weren’t willing to lift a finger when the animal then needed help.

When I agreed to take the rats and pay for their veterinary care, the young woman then disclosed that there was another rat in a different classroom who
also
had a tumor, though it was smaller. This rat lived all by herself, which meant long, dark, lonely nights, weekends, and holidays. So, upon my prodding, she went to go ask that teacher if I could take
her
rat for surgery as well; the teacher agreed, as long as
I
paid for it.

Then she mentioned a guinea pig in yet another classroom with some sort of “huge, gaping sore” (the diameter of an orange) that had gone untreated for quite some time; and she ran to ask
that
teacher if I could take the guinea pig for veterinary care, too. Of course, none of them was willing to contribute a dime, and the young woman in- formed me that if I hadn’t stepped in, they would have just left the animals untreated in their prison cells, where they had been for much too long already. If compassion is something that is taught, then the children in
this
school weren’t off to a very good start.

Still juggling too many tasks to complete in a day myself, I called my dad and informed him that I had yet another rescue mission for him, if he had the time. He rushed right over. I helped him load up his car with cages and asked him to please get as many animals out of there as he could. He returned with three rats and a guinea pig. They were all in horrendous condition and smelled as if they had been living in dirty cages for years.

I was told that the school
definitely
wanted the rat with the smaller tumor back after I had her tumor removed. She was a very beautiful, fluffy beige-and-white rat with a teddy bear face, so
of course
they wanted
her
back. The other two rats were dark gray, old and thin, so they wouldn’t be missed at all. Although I had no intentions of returning
any
of these rats to that prison, I instructed my dad to tell the people whatever they wanted to hear to ensure that they would relinquish the animals to him.

When my dad returned from picking up the animals, he was visibly shaken. I had been involved in many rescues over the years, so I had grown accustomed to such cases of senseless suffering. However, my dad was new at this, so I now realized I hadn’t adequately prepared him, and I apologized for having put him in that position. He assured me that he was glad to have been able to help out, that it had been a very eye-opening experience for him.

He reported that he had gotten out with all of the animals there except one remaining rat, a six-month-old living by herself in a small aquarium, surrounded by noisy children who were not yet old enough to treat such fragile animals with the sensitivity they require … and whose teachers had clearly left compassion out of their curriculum. They wouldn’t let him take this particular rat because she was still “young and healthy.”

That night, I did my best to apologize to the animals for the way they had been treated by my fellow humans, who obviously didn’t know better. I assured them that not all humans were like that, and that we would take good care of them. I scheduled the surgeries for the very next day. So, the three rats (Jane Doe 1, Jane Doe 2, and Jane Doe 3) and Mr. Guinea Pig headed off to the vet with Dad.

The vet, Dr. Mabley, said that these animals were in the worst condition he had seen in quite some time. We were all amazed and appalled at the size of the tumor on one of the rats, which she and her companion literally slept atop. She had to use all of her force to drag the giant tumor across the aquarium to get to the water bottle for a drink. The bottom of the tumor was scabbed and bloody from being dragged around, and the rat was extremely thin, as she was unable to eat enough to support herself
and
the huge mass. Because her right arm was embedded in the tumor, she ate and groomed herself with her left hand only. It was heartbreaking to watch her struggle. As Dr. Mabley said, the most heartbreaking part of all was the fact that it was so
unnecessary
. A tumor such as this would have been so simple to remove had they only sought veterinary care before it got so big.