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@exigni
“I love cats! I’m on a diet!”
I had someone ask me via message on where to start in regards to adopting an “unadoptable” dog, and we had a rather pleasant conversation, but I feel like something needs to be said in public on this blog due to my history of having owned such a creature.
Ethical shelters and rescues do not label dogs unadoptable for no reason, in nearly all cases. There is something about the dog that will determine it being an extremely poor fit for 99% of homes that would be interested, and typically that 1% would need to make tremendous amounts of sacrifice in order to successfully own them. As nice as it sounds- wanting to give a dog everyone else has given up on a home- ethical rescues and shelters have a responsibility to take care of ALL of the dogs in their care and to not endanger those they adopt to or the general public with their adoptions. Taking in unadoptable dogs and keeping them until that 1% person shows up takes vast amounts of money away from perfectly adoptable dogs and ends up killing the friendly, healthy, young dogs that are deemed “more likely to be adopted”. Don’t believe me?
Someone I know from dobermantalk stopped fostering for her rescue when they took in 2 heartworm positive senior beagles to foster from a high kill shelter and left the young healthy beagle that had been surrendered with the older pair. The “adoptable” dog never got a foster. He also never got adopted. When his time was up, he was euthanized. The older pair did not survive their heartworm treatment. Three dogs died because of a focus on unadoptable dogs. Who does that help?
About five years ago, a woman took in two seriously dog aggressive presa canarios to foster. What was left of her body was found several days after the fact- she had been torn to pieces. It was hard for the authorities to determine if the presas had done the deed or if her personal dogs, one “pit bull” bbm and one frenchie, had contributed, but they guessed that the presas, two intact males known for engaging in serious fights with other dogs, had begun to fight and redirected on her when she tried to break them up. Due to their size, they would have overwhelmed her quickly, especially if the other two dogs joined in the frenzy. From there it’s hard to tell what bites were inflicted post-mortum, when the dogs ran out of food and turned to the only available source of meat, and what bites caused her death. Reports from those who found her described the scene as a bloodbath. All four dogs were euthanized. Who does that help?
A small breed puppy mill rescue dog I personally knew, deemed unadoptable for her extreme fear issues, was taken in by a well meaning family member. In a very short amount of time, this family member had been bitten multiple times for offenses as minor as walking by the dog while she was sleeping. Eventually, the dog slipped her harness after spooking due to a loud noise, ran into the road, and was killed instantly by a car. Obliterated. In front of her owner. Who does that help?
Skoll was a dog that had been failed by everyone in his short life. He’d come from known abuse and had clear abandonment issues. He had terrible health and his fear of people and his learned behavior of biting to make the scary things go away were ingrained into him long before he came to me. I gave him a chance anyway, I couldn’t sit by and watch a young dog be killed for something that wasn’t his fault. He mauled me without provocation and I euthanized him two months into our time together. He should have been euthanized on take in- he had a long, long list of documented bites well before he ever came to me, though I didn’t know it at the time. Who does that help?
Instead of focusing on these unadoptable dogs, there is a better solution. If you want to feel like you’re making a difference, find an ethical rescue or shelter and foster! Transport! Volunteer your photography skills! Learn their temperament and health testing process and volunteer there too! Make goods to sell at fundraisers and auctions! Organize a community donation pool! There are so many things you can do for dogs in need that aren’t things that, more often than not, end up with the dog dying anyway. But wanting to adopt a dog labeled, for good reason, unadoptable? Especially if you are not experienced in intense or extreme issues, temperament or health wise, in dogs? You are asking for a lot of heartbreak.
Adopt the adoptable dogs. Accept that we cannot save every unwanted dog. Accept that not every unwanted dog SHOULD be saved. It’s not the dogs’ faults, but neither is it the public’s for not being able to deal with these sorts of issues.
The choices rescues and shelters have to make are really complicated and have potentially live-changing implications for the dogs and humans involved alike. This is a good example of why campaigns like ‘adopt don’t shop’ and ‘no-kill by 2025′ are idealistic and have the potential to do more harm than good. There are no simple answers. Welfare considerations and responsible animal management cannot be encapsulated in one-size-fits-all punchy slogans.
i have a lot of respect for our local humane society. they euthanize largely for health issues, and bend over backward to deal w behavioral ones, while at the same time prioritizing healthy, normal behavior adoptions. they ALSO do not adopt out problem animals without extreme vetting. i have seen them doggedly explain over and over again why X pooch was not going to be adopted by this one lady who wasn’t able to give him the care he needed, while said lady kept repeating that ‘any life must be better than being in a shelter’.
#don’t get why adopt don’t shop is bad tho#unless you really need a specific type of dog for something#it’s just for fashion?
I’m reblogging this from you specifically to address your tags, but I don’t want anyone to think that I’m attacking you or that I want you to get hate, because that’s not the point here. I also don’t have any desire to get into an adopt don’t shop argument or be told that I’m an evil heinous monster because I bought my dog from a breeder and will be doing it again when I have money.
It’s not that “adopt don’t shop” or “no kill” are inherently bad. It’s that they are catchy phrases that are incomplete in addressing the problem at hand. Is the problem of so many pets being killed in shelters the fault of those who euthanize due to space, health, or temperament concerns? No. Is the problem due to responsible breeding practices? Also no. The problem is that pet owners have an overwhelmingly bad irresponsibility problem and pets have become disposable when they no longer feel like stepping up to take care of the animal that didn’t ask to be owned by them. How many nice, calm, happy pet dogs are in shelters that just need a little obedience training or some help with potty training? How many puppies and young adults are given up for being just that- young? How many old dogs are given up because the owner doesn’t want to deal with the cost or effort of care for a senior pet? How many people have no idea how to keep a bitch in heat from breeding, or breed their bitch “just because” and then give her up because she didn’t produce well or because they decided against having puppies after all? How many dogs get out because of poor containment? How many people decide they don’t want their dogs anymore due to a completely preventable situation? How many people are at their wit’s end with a dog they didn’t properly research and don’t actually have the means to care for? How many of these dogs came from people that didn’t give a shit what happened to the puppies they produced as long as they got some $$$?
Good breeders take back their produced puppies if the owners no longer want them. No matter the reason. No matter the cost. If I decided tomorrow that I didn’t want Creed anymore, his breeder would hop in the car and drive 8 hours one way to pick him up and then would rearrange her house to accommodate having an additional intact male that WILL fight the two she’s already got at home. Good breeders screen homes to prevent such situations from happening, though of course people can always lie and sometimes things happen beyond our control- for instance, if I were to be in a car crash tomorrow that would prevent me from being able to properly take care of Creed, the same situation would happen. Good breeders make it very clear that you are never to put one of their dogs in the rescue system OR ELSE- I would immediately be sued by Creed’s breeder if I just dumped him into a rescue or shelter. Good breeders work with the rescue system- many are fosters, transporters, trainers, or high ranking staff in their breed specific rescues, and the community is always called to come together and identify a dog that looks like it may come from someone that doesn’t want their dogs to be relinquished like that. It is not ethical and responsible breeders that are to blame for the problem of unwanted dogs- their dogs are always wanted, and they take responsibility for their dogs’ existences until they meet their natural end.
There is no shame in buying a dog from an ethical, responsible breeder. Even if the reason is because you want a nice pet that meets your personal beauty standards ideal. I like miniature english bull terriers and those are practically unheard of in shelters because most of them get snapped up immediately by breeders trying to keep their rare and beloved breed out of the rescue system. The dogs are sterilized and adopted out to good homes that understand them. If I get a mini EBT, it would literally JUST be a pet. There’s no shame in me wanting a pet that I like to look at, provided I also know I can take care of it well. I should not be shamed because I have a personal preference for how I want my dog to look, act, or train like. If I don’t find what I’m looking for in a shelter, I’m not just going to grab a random dog and shrug and call it a day. I know what kind of dog I get along with the best and I’m not settling for a decision that’s going to stay with me for the next 10-15 years.
That’s not to say I turn my back on the problem- this house has 6 dogs living in it currently. 3 are purebred dogs from responsible breeders. 3 are from rescue; two mixed breeds and one purebred. Part of my dog training protocol when I was an apprentice was to foster and train one dog per week in order for it to get adopted faster. When that ended, I began helping the groomers at my store with their foster dogs, the most recent featured on my blog being TaterTots- a dog I personally would have adopted if I had the money to spare on a second dog at this point in time. But I didn’t, so I helped train her so that she’d get adopted quickly, and she did! Taters is in a loving home and now I’m helping another foster dog get adopted. I personally have adopted an unadoptable dog. My parents adopted an unadoptable dog. My ex adopted an unadoptable dog. A dog I am currently mourning that belonged to a friend was an unadoptable dog (tumor). I’ve spent the bulk of my life helping rescue animals and I am not interested in the implications of “adopt don’t shop” saying that I am a heinous monster for purchasing my dog and planning to do it again within a year or so. That’s why that’s not a great phrase to continue to push. It doesn’t do anything to solve the problem, and it spits on some of those who’ve done the most work with the animals that need the most help.
One has claws at the end of its paws and one is a pause at the end of a clause.
just a fun fact donald trump was harsher on kristen stewart breaking up with rob pattinson than he was on literal nazis yesterday.
Kyoung Hwan Kim - https://www.facebook.com/tahraartpage - http://www.tahraart.com - https://www.artstation.com/artist/tahra - http://drawcrowd.com/tahra
this is why shouting “just adopt!!!” is a bullshit argument amongst pro-lifers bc there are laws like this that prevent a lot of people from adopting.
yall still out here calling the us a secular country when orphans might not be able to get adopted by non Christians????
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He’s bean through a lot. (via _BasedMistress / Giraffe_Ingles)
I really want a science fiction story where aliens come to invade earth and effortlessly wipe out humanity, only to be fought off by the wildlife.
They were expecting military resistance. They weren’t counting on bears.
Imagine coming to a hostile alien world and being attacked by a horde of creatures that can weigh up to 3 tons, run at 30 km/h (19 mph), and bite with a force of 8,100 newtons (1,800 lbf).
By the time you realise that they can traverse water, it’s too late. The surviving members of your unit manage to make it back by shedding their excess gear and running for their lives; the slower ones were crushed to death within minutes.
You later describe the creature to one of the humans you captured, wanting to know the name of the monstrosity that will haunt your nightmares for cycles to come.
The human smiles as it speaks a single word, slowly and distinctly, in its barbaric tongue.
“Hippopotamus.”
This is giving me the biggest, creepiest grin I might have ever grinned
Imagine being the next crew to go down to earth and thinking “it’s fine, we got this. We have the weapons and equipment necessary to deal with bears and *shudders* hippopotamuses. We’ll be fine.”
And at first you are, you’ve learned how to dodge. You’ve learned where their territories are. You know how to defend yourself.
But then one night you are sleeping in your shelter. You’re in a tree covered temperate part of earth. It seems benign. There are been no sightings of the dreaded “hippos” around. Not even any bears. But there is a slight rustle of the undergrowth. You try and ignore it telling yourself it is just the wind.
Then you hear the rustle again. closer this time.
You peer out into the darkness but see nothing amongst the trees.
The rustle again and now you realise you can smell something. It’s musky and slightly foul. It’s the smell of an omen, a warning. But what of? Where is this smell coming from.
You sit up, but it’s too late. The foul smelling creature is on you. You are hit with 17kg of coarse fur and vicious bites. Long dark claws tear in to you and you are pinned down white the striped creature tries to bite your throat.
It takes some doing but you manage to wrestle free. Blood drips from your wounds and already they itch with the sign of infection. The creature has a bloodied snout, rust rad, mingling with the black and white hairs. It lets out a terrifying growl from the back of its throat and looks to attack again. It’s between you and your knife, so your only choice is to back away.
Eventually the creature gives up and snuffles off in to the undergrowth, down a hole near your shelter you hadn’t noticed before.
When you make it back to your base you once again consult the captive human.
“Badger.” they say, with a solemn nod.
One word: Moose
“Our vehicles are far superior to the local human models, in range, speed, armament, and any other metric you care to name! Nothing could possibly-”
BAMrumblerumblethumpcrash!!!
“That’s called a moose.”
Wolverines.
Also.. dolphins.
The invasion is going slowly. The humans have caught on and are actively destroying information on the planet’s flora and fauna before Intelligence can capture and process it. All that they have are survivors’ accounts. Bears. Hippos. Badgers. Moose. It is becoming obvious this mudball planet is a full-on Death World to the unprepared, and you are so very unprepared.
You lost Jaxurn to a plant. Not even a mobile or carnivorous plant, just one that caused a vicious allergic reaction on contact that killed him in less than a rai'kor. Commander Vura'ko died to an insect bite, a tiny local pest that sucked a tiny bit of her blood and apparently replaced it with a bit of its last meal, which was full of disease. Backwash. She died to bug backwash. And yet you honestly envy them after that… thing you encountered…
When you got back to base the quarantine officer refused to let you inside. They had to roll a containment tank outside to put you in, because you all knew there would be no chance of eliminating the smell if it got into the ship’s air ducts. Smell. You wonder if your nasal slit will ever recover from this stench.
And the smell would. Not. Leave. After incinerating your gear the Q.O. had you use every cleansing agent they could think of, including a few janitorial ones, and still everyone fled the stench if they were downwind of your tank. Desperate to protect everyone’s nasal slits from the smell the quarantine officer interrogated the humans. From them, a glimmer of hope: there was a cure. Somehow the juice of a certain fruit on this mudball was the only thing that could break up the chemicals in the little horror’s spray. Immediately the Q.O. sent a team to recover buckets of the stuff and made you bathe in it. That was hours ago and it didn’t seem to be working, though. All it was doing was turning your blue skin an interesting shade of purple.
Sighing in frustration you wave the med-assist on duty over, who only approaches after checking the wind direction. Annoyed, you flip on the tank`s vox speaker.
“The humans did say it was “grape” juice that removed “skunk” stench, right?“
Every night.
It came for someone almost every night.
Any soldier alone was a viable target for this native monster that moved unseen by any but the security viewers, usually only spotted in hindsight. They were taken as silently as this earth-monster moved. Sometimes they’d find the remains in the morning taken up a tree and hung there, mostly eaten, as if it were a grisly reminder that the monster was still there, waiting unseen, to strike again.
What little they saw of the monster on the vidfeed showed true horror. Yellow eyes that shone with all the light it could gather. It had fangs as long as his grasping digits. Claws half that size formed curved hooks that allowed it to climb up their fortifications with impunity. And in the underbrush, its spots made it almost impossible to see clearly in the undergrowth, if it could be seen at all.
Even the native sentients, the humans, had a healthy respect and fear for it.
The earth natives called the monster a leopard.
It was a constant fear that muddied the senses, and let the monster hunt even more effectively as the soldiers were always on edge. Sleep deprived with fear, it made them even better targets for the monster.
But rumor was that there was worse on this planet. Rumors of a monster like a leopard but larger, and bigger in every imaginable sense. Stripped instead of spotted, which leaped from the underbrush with a sound.
A sound that burst eardrums, paralyzed entire units, and let the monster kill with impunity. While the Leopard wrestled soldiers down and ripped their throats out. This other monster, the Tiger, killed with its pounce alone.
“We’ve been through this,” Group Leader 455 snapped. “The dissection of an Earth life form will help the scientists make weapons to combat the rest of this planet’s hellbeasts. And these are domesticated. Harmless.”
The troops were not-quite-looking at her in the way troops do when they don’t want to be seen to contradict a ranking officer, but can’t quite muster a correct Expression of Enthusiastic Assent. “The name of this species,” she pointed out, “is synonymous with dullness and slowness in the language of the Earth barbarians.” Well, one language out of several thousand—these creatures needed Imperial guidance more than any other world on record—but there was no point in confusing the rank and file.
More not-quite-looking. 455 bubbled a sigh and consulted her scanner. “That one,” she decided. “Alone in the separate pasture. Scans suggest that it’s a male, which means it’s probably weaker. Possibly it’s kept isolated so that the females don’t eat it before mating season. And yes, I know some of you are here on punishment detail, but you’re still soldiers of the Imperium. This squad is perfectly capable of handling a lone, helpless, pathetic male cow.”
I’m enjoying this immensely. Wait until the aliens try Australia for size…
It was a strange creature Tar'van glimpsed at on the vast island known to the humans as ‘Australia’.
“I would warn you not to fuck with us, mate.” Their forced guide, a prisioner, had warned with a chilling grin upon capture. “If you think a moose is bad, wait until you tango with a red back.” To this day Tar'van fears the creature known as the red back, and what horrors it would bring.
The prisioner turned out to be of little help,the stubboness of his people causing them to refuse the danger that the captured human warned of. Tar'van recalls a moment when one of his squad members approached a creature know as a dingo, insistent they had seen these creatures before and they were tame. They barely escaped with 5 of the original 7 members of his squad.
Another moment Tar'van recalls was the brutal mauling they witnessed by the hands of a creature called an ‘Emu’
“Don’t feel too bad,” the prisioner mocked. “We lost a war to the Emu’s as well.”
Now with only 4 members of their squad left, including themself, Tar'van had learned to listen to the prisoner, to be wary of the simplest of creatures. This human was of the sub-species of ‘Zookeeper’ after all.
The ‘Zookeeper’ looks off to the distance, where the creature is.
“It’s a kangaroo, leave it be and you’ll be fine.” Tar'van nods, a human signal of acknowledgement if they are correct. The human smiles a bit.
“That creature cannot possibly harm us.” Tar'van’s squadleader protests. “It is so docile. I will aproach it and bring back it’s head to show this human is a fearmongering liar.”
The human reels back, a look of disgust crosses their face and anger passes through their eyes.
“Fucking do it mate, I dare ya.” The human hisses. The squad leader puffs up their hoinn gland, a sign of pride to their species, and aproached the so called ‘Kangaroo’.
“This will be unpleasant.” A squadmate mutters as they watch their leader raise their fist and bring it down on the creature. The ‘Kangaroo’ looks a little stunned by the impact, before it raises itself upon its strong tail and uses its powerful heind legs to launch their squadleader backwards through the air.
Their squadleader lands upon the ground, unmoving with black blooded oozeing from them. It appears Tar'van is the squads leader now.
“I don’t know what they expected.” the human says, smugness filling their tone. “Kangaroos are fucking shreaded. 8-pack and all.”
Tar'van steps forward to the human, whom inches back in a sign of fear as Tar'van pulls their blade from its holster, and in their first act as leader, frees the human of the bonds around their hands.
“Please,” Tar'van bags. “Get us back safely.”
@kryallaorchid, you guys really lost a war to emus? Why was it necessary?
oh, mate, you never mess with the emus.
(Jesus christ. Dont get us started on kangaroos)
They had faced Emu’s. They had lost one in the battle but had experienced them. But this was no emu.
Looking to their guide, they all stare in horror as his face changes from calculating to fear. Pure, heart consuming horror as he stares at the large bird. “Cassowary…” They mimic him in fear. Squawking the horrific name as another joins the first in the mad run towards them.
The only ones to survive was the native guide and Tar'van. The guide was carrying the soldier over his shoulder as they made their way back to the settlement. Tar'van was a wreck. Periodically alternating between rocking in complete silence and whispering broken words in horror. When they consulted the native all he said was “Its spring…. Magpie season…”
“Listen up, troops. This armour upgrade has been tested both in the laboratories of the best Imperial military scientists and in the field. We are impervious to the stings of any insect on this hellhole of a planet, striped or not! We can brave the perils of its wildlife, and conquer it at long last! Revenge for our fallen companions! Glory to the Emperor!”
“Excuse me,” the native Terran guide speaks up in a tired tone, and the squad’s cheers die on their lips. “This is Japan. You haven’t seen what–”
“Silence, worm! No sting can penetrate this plating!”
The guide tries to warn them once again, merely earning a blow that throws them to their knees. The troops set out, morale high, certain in their ability to brave the wildlife now and thirsting for vengeance against the non-sentient native species. One soldier thumps his fist against a tree. A hollow sound follows.
In an instant, the soldier is the centre of a storm of the striped insects. At first, no one pays it any mind. Their little stings cannot penetrate the new plating, after all.
But then the soldier falls to his knees, and the squad stares in horror as the insects enclose him in layer upon layer of their own bodies, all moving. The squad’s medic yells a warning at everyone to stay back, watching the readouts of the unfortunate soldier’s armour on their diagnostic screen with undisguised horror. The insects aren’t even stinging. They simply keep moving, one atop the other, and the soldier’s body temperature is slowly rising until he drops to the ground, quite literally cooked alive. The insect swarm takes off, unharmed save for the ones that were crushed when the trooper fell.
Finally asked about what happened, the human sighs. “Japanese honeybees. They do this to wasps, too.”
“How?” You ask. “How has your species dominated this planet?”
The human bares its teeth. A smile, they call it. Something humans do when they are happy. Yet you can’t help but think of all the creatures with the their large fangs and sharp teeth. (What kind of species uses a threat signal as a sign of happiness?)
“Persistence and ingenuity.” The human answers, still smiling.
It doesn’t matter that this one is your prisoner. Humans, you decide, are as terrifying as their planet.
“And scattered about it … were the Martians–dead!–slain by the putrefactive and disease bacteria against which their systems were unprepared; slain as the red weed was being slain; slain, after all man’s devices had failed, by the humblest things that God, in his wisdom, had put upon this earth.”
– HG Wells, The War of the Worlds,1898
I’m picturing aliens going up against a hoard of Canadian geese, or a swan.
I think at that point they’d just give up.
Or fire ants
No one even MENTIONED snakes yet…
This thing gets better EVERY FUCKING TIME I SEE IT.
“Let us try the creatures that the humans keep for domestic companionship”
“Is that a miniature tiger?”
“Why does this human own a small pack of wolves?”
The aliens ask their human captive why small wolves live with them.
“Oh, you mean dogs? Yeah, they’re the only animals that can keep up with us.”
The aliens look at each other in fear. “What do you mean?”
“Oh well that’s why you guys ‘won’ is because humans aren’t super fast or strong. I think my middle school biology teacher called us pursuit predators? It means we evolved to hunt things by following them at walking pace until they had to stop to sleep and then catching up to them then. Dogs are the only animals that can keep up with us. Did you know one time a pack of wolves tailed a herd of caribou for three days straight?”
“Uh… okay, what about these small round things with big teeth?”
“Omg dude no if you give a hamster enought time that little fucker can chew through concrete :)”
The aliens wonder if the surrender of humanity was a trap.
Somebody do sharks or sea creatures next. Giant squids would wreak havoc on their ships.
The aliens have sophisticated technology which pretty much allows them to live underwater, which is something even the inventive humans have never managed. Submarines have nothing on alien submersion pods, which can withstand the crushing pressures of even the darkest depths of the oceans and seas.
The aliens aren’t expecting any difficulties with their underwater expeditions. Of course, that’s when four of the life signs on the central screen simply vanish, like they’d never been there.
Alpha turns on the direct communication lines to the remaining submersion pods, and the only thing they hear through the tinny speakers is screaming.
Alpha resists the urge to turn and stare at the shackled human standing behind them, but Beta, Gamma and Theta have no such compunctions.
The human shrugs. “I mean, we’ve never really been down there so we’re not entire sure, but we’ve heard stories of giant squids and stuff. No smoke without fire, and all that.”
“There can be neither smoke nor fire underwater, human, cease your prattling.”
The human snorts. “It’s a phrase. A metaphor? Man, I don’t know, I studied marine biology, not literature.”
The human is unable to tell them anything useful about what might have happened to the submersion pods, but retrieved footage later shows tentacled behemoths snaking out of the depths of disturbed silt and cold water, and crushing the submersion pods effortlessly, in full view of the outer-hull cameras. The monsters have giant beaks which rip through the organic alloy sheets, and into the bodies of the pod pilots within.
The outer-hull cameras register the blue of fresh spilled blood and gore, at the same time the on-board cameras register screaming and the red glow of critical power failure.
The last thing the aliens can see on the retrieved footage is thin, long, snakelike creatures appearing out of the darkness and gloom, creating their own light and descending upon the remains of their brethren. They are accompanied by creatures that look like plastic bags, but which feed upon the toxic remains of the organic alloy of which the pods were made.
The human appears completely nonchalant - there is no love lost between slave and master. “Wait till you see sharks.”
This is the one thing I consistently look forward to seeing on my dash.
theres a post going around saying how you should NOT get a parrot even if you are a dedicated owner. i do not personally agree and am actually a bit mad at the way they portray parrots, almost teaching people to fear them. whats your stance on it?
If you’re referring to pepperandpals’ post, I agree with it. Had you asked me this question a few years ago I would probably say otherwise but after all the experience, knowledge and dedication I’ve put in to learning I no longer believe that parrots should be sold in the pet trade under most conditions.
You haven’t a clue how many birds get mistreated, left with dowel perches, no UV lighting, small cages, seed only diets, forced to aggress, get placed in homes with teflon products, and end up living miserably with these people up until their lives end way earlier than they should have. Too many people think that exotics are just that, exotic, a decoration, something to brag about and end up not actually caring for it as much as they should. Too many people believe that they’re doing right or don’t need to be doing more and as a result the bird suffers.
When it comes to people who do do their research, have previous hands on experience and really care for a bird the best they can, it’s rarely ever enough when you compare, and the average person is not able to provide that sort of lifestyle for them. Using myself as an example, I spend all day with my birds, I spend all my time adding things to environment, switching up diets, giving them exercise, mentally stimulating them, cage cleaning, rearranging the bird room, it’s no exaggeration when I say I spend a solid 12 hours that they’re awake caring for them and then spend the whole evening trying to think of ways to improve the care I’m giving them for tomorrow. Despite how hard I try, how much research and how much i provide it never feels like enough. because it isn’t enough.
I do my best to show you guys all the work I put in to caring for my little girls, I constantly receive messages telling me how amazing I am for giving these birds this life and all the work I put in to them but in all honesty, you guys don’t see the half of it. You don’t see the thousands of hours of research I put in to every aspect of their life, their diets, their housing, their natural foraging experiences, safe plants, cleaning, moulting habits, behavioural situations, space division, possession, territory layouts, and so much more go on on a daily basis. You don’t see all the work I have to do to make sure that these highly territorial species doesn’t fight and kill one another so that I can continue to have them both out as much as possible, only having them out one at a time would take away so much space and enjoyment from their lives. You don’t see the vet bills, the preparation, the stress reducing, you don’t see the costs, the time, the energy that goes in to trying to keep them happy. You all seem to have this idea that the care I give my birds is way beyond exceeding expectations but let me tell you something, what I do I consider to be bare minimum.
All the effort, expenses, time, and work is absolutely necessary for them to be content with a captive lifestyle, if I was away at school or work full time I would consider this care to be subpar, to be inadequate, they would be unhappy with that lifestyle because that’s not what they’re designed for. They are not meant to live this way and not everyone has the time, space, personality or tolerance necessary to care for them the way they deserve.
This is a parrotlet’s natural habitat
source
This is my parrotlets’ habitat
Can you look at those and tell me that they can possibly be perfectly content and happy this way without the time and effort I put in to it?
Can you tell me that a bird so intelligent, so so smart can be removed from that environment and so perfectly adapt without any problems?
Can you look at this bird and tell me that they’re happy with this lifestyle?
Plucking is a behaviour that only happens in captivity it has never been recorded in the wild. Plucking is a behaviour caused by boredom, understimulation, stress, inadequate diet, and sometimes even happens just because they’re depressed.
You can not tell me that parrots are happier this way, you can not possibly tell me that taking something so perfectly adapted to a single lifestyle, perfectly designed to fly forever is okay having that removed. You will never be able to convince me that something perfectly designed to work with flight will be happy to have them chopped off for human enjoyment. My own Mia used to be clipped because she was from a store, my own Mia was depressed because of it, she did not move very much, she did not want to play with toys, she did not want to interact with people, she was miserable that way. But people wouldn’t notice that, they would dismiss it as the bird’s personality or just adapting or some other excuse to ignore the fact that the bird is having a horrific time. You will never be able to convince me that this:
is healthier or more beautiful than this
I’ve already had to make a separate post on why being clipped is so detrimental to their health even though it’s such a common practice. And I’ve made a separate post on all the work that has to go in to keeping a bird safe.
you will never convince me that being captive is healthy.
Parrots are a full time job, they are not a pet, they are not a decoration, they are not a toy, they are not a phase, they’re a commitment and a hell of a big one. Birds should not be readily available in pet stores, owners should have to go through tests to see if they’re capable of providing a stimulating environment for the ones that already stuck in this trade. I think that breeding should be focused on maintaining health and maintaining the survival of species such as the endangered blue throated macaws and I think that species such as hyacinths, or cockatoos shouldn’t be in homes at all. Keeping those birds isn’t a matter or giving them an enriching life, it’s a matter of doing your best to prevent them from suffering.
In this world ignorance is bliss, a few years ago I would have thought just the same as you, I believed it’s just a bird it’s sold in a store it will be just fine. But as soon as you learn, as you soon as you see all the harm and the suffering these birds go through you’ll change your mind.
If you are a dedicated owner, if you have the experience and knowledge you should have before you even get a bird a pet store wouldn’t even be an option. There’s a reason that every reputable person, blogger, trainer, or other animal worker will always consider adopting before all else, it certainly isn’t a coincidence that the most educated refuse pet stores. Breeding has resulted in so many god damned problems, I’m certain you’ve heard of the feather duster budgies caused by poor breeding or the numerous parrot hybrids, while pretty they serve no purpose.
I’m certain some of you saw this post going around featuring the feather duster budgies? Do you have any idea how many comments said “I want one”? These birds are a genetic failure, their feathers keep growing and never stop until they die, they either die from overheating, they can’t breathe, they can’t walk to make it to food so they starve or are generally crushed under the weight.
The fact of the matter is that birds aren’t designed for this lifestyle, they are not domesticated they are wild they retain all that natural behaviour all those natural needs, they bite, they scream, they fly, they make a mess, they destroy things, they’re active, and demanding, the average person, and I’d go as far as to say a solid 70% of most bird owners, can not handle their care. How many times have you read “my bird won’t stop screaming”, “I’m considering getting rid of my bird”, “my bird won’t stop biting”, “my bird only likes one person”, “my bird hates me”, “i can’t afford this vet bill”, “I don’t want to buy a UV light or a filter”, a lot, right?
All of those problems happen because people didn’t do their research, they didn’t know how to handle the bird, how to react to the problems when they started showing up, they didn’t know what to look for they were unprepared for the care that they need.
The majority of birds from pet stores and breeders suffer, by the time they make it to 2 years old and they start acting like proper adults they get sent to shelters. When they become adults they don’t take shit from anyone, they have 0 tolerance for your foolishness and lash out when you ignore their body language. People don’t want a bird that wants to be treated with respect, they want one that will sit there, do tricks, talk, and look cute when they want it to, they don’t want mutual trust, they want obedience and don’t want to work to get it.
I don’t care how good of an owner you think you are, once you stop blocking out everything you’ll see the damage the pet trade has on these birds and your mind will change. It’s not a coincidence that the most educated or experienced will advise you against buying pet store birds or breeder birds and I sincerely hope you listen to them.
I know I will certainly never purchase a bird from a breeder or a store, I hope you won’t either.
If you want a bird, get a chicken or a pigeon! They are domesticated, won’t outlive you, and are well adapted to captivity. They come in lots of colors and varieties, and in my opinion its way cooler to be able to say “i have a chicken in my backyard” or “i have a pigeon in my house” than to say “i have a parrot”
If the body is a temple, then tattoos are its stained glass windows.
Vince Hemingson
Check out my blog for some inspiration! - classylittletattoos ✨
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sorry not sorry (by @adamtots)
I am actually sorry though.
dog art
I’m gonna go on a trip to find the worst life hack video on instagram wish me luck
UUUUUU FOUND IT
A post shared by Life Hack (@lifehack) on Mar 5, 2017 at 3:10am PST
this is so baffling @busket
A bonsai tree that grew a full-sized apple. From here.
Where there’s a will, there’s a way
I am proud of that tree
forbidden