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I haven’t had time to write very much on Sparrow Chat of late as I’ve been busy on other projects. That will soon be rectified. I have managed to keep track of your comments and other writing.

One of my good blogging pals today sent me an article from a British newspaper.^[1] It concerned a young heifer found wandering round a field with the drum from an old washing machine stuck over her head, no doubt the result of natural bovine curiosity as to what was inside, and whether it was edible.

While the story undoubtedly has its lighter side, one has to stop a moment and consider what would have happened to the beast if human intervention had not come to the rescue? It may well have died.

After many years with the British RSPCA, it became second nature for me to wash out, or crush, old food cans before discarding them. Taking a pair of scissors to the plastic rings used for holding six-pack drink-cans is also a habit I developed, having seen the havoc wreaked on wildlife by such items.

Human society has become very sophisticated over the centuries; all our food comes pre-packed, refuse disposal trucks remove our garbage almost without us noticing. No wonder we spare little thought for what happens to all those items no longer serving a purpose in our lives, confined to the trashcan – out of sight, out of mind.

Much of our waste ends up in landfill sites. Anyone who’s been to a municipal tip knows the majority of its occupants are wild animals and birds. The landfill provides a ready food supply for wild creatures, but along with its bounty comes a dreadful price in suffering and death. Our used food tins are lethal to those mammals with heads just big enough to fit inside an empty bean or meat can. Dense fur acts as an effective seal. It takes no more than three or four breaths before the air in the bottom of the tin is exhausted and the animal suffocates. It’s not just wild animals that are effected. Over the years, I saw numerous examples of domestic pets whose lives ended in this manner. Cats are frequently victims of the menace.

While a loose can is unlikely to cause problems, those on a landfill are often half buried in debris, making a more secure container that won’t roll around; much easier for an animal to get its head inside. When the can is originally opened, often the lid is only partially cut around with the opener, bent upwards to pour out the contents, then pushed back down inside before being discarded. This allows an animal’s head easy access inwards, but acts as a razor-sharp barrier, cutting into the creature’s head and neck when it tries to withdraw itself.

There are two simple remedies; wash out cans to remove all trace of food before we discard, and, when possible, crush the container. If not, at least remove the lid completely.

We all buy canned drinks that come in a handy six-pack. Whoever invented the flexible plastic device that neatly holds the cans together probably made a fortune. Unfortunately, the rise of the six-pack has been responsible for the demise of thousands of animals and birds.

The plastic holder comprises not only six flexible rings, but a number of other, smaller, holes as well. Altogether, the device is fiendishly efficient at trapping many species of animals, birds, and even fish. As an RSPCA inspector, I soon lost count of the number of occasions I was called to assist creatures caught up in these things, or the many different species I encountered. The list seemed endless. Swans, or other waterbirds, secured around the neck or bill; small mammals, their heads through one of the holes, and a foot (or feet) caught up as they struggled to get clear. Hardly a week went by I didn’t encounter problems from this one piece of deadly plastic, and while freeing one creature brought immense satisfaction, the lingering question was always how many never got rescued and died a lingering death?

Preventing this large-scale suffering is so very simple. A few moments spent snipping through the plastic with scissors, until no holes remain, is all that’s required.

We’ll all find it hard to resist smiling at the sight of the British heifer above, in such a ludicrous predicament. Yet, she was one of the lucky ones. The next time you’re about to throw some packing material or other garbage into the trashcan, just pause for a moment. Stop to consider whether you’re throwing away an item that could prove lethal to any animal. If so, ask yourself how it can be rendered safe.

Often, it only takes a moment, but that moment of your time could save a life.

^{[1] “Cow who got into a spin” Daily Mail, September 1st 2008}

Filed under: Animal welfare

Just as I was complaining the US political conventions were a total bore, along comes John McCain with the biggest joke since Tony Blair embraced popery. It’s not enough that McCain’s chosen a woman as his VP nominee, an obvious attempt to rub Hillary Clinton’s nose in the dirt, but he’s also managed to choose a woman no-one’s ever heard of.

Perhaps the only conclusion that can be drawn from McCain’s decision to pick (hang on while I look her up), oh, yes, Sarah Palin, is that here is a deliberate, even blatant, ploy to hook the Hillary Clinton supporters sufficiently brassed by Obama’s nomination they are capable of switching party allegiance solely to display their inane malice. (See previous post: “A Load Of Sticky Meringue” Sparrow Chat, August 26th 2008)

The choice of Ms Palin is a bolt from the blue; a complete secret even from the Republican party hierarchy. Apparently, only John McCain knew – oh, and Maria Bartiromo of NBC, who happened to interview her last week.

How these coincidences just fall from the sky.

Sarah Palin is reputed to be an ex Alaska beauty queen and ‘Miss Congeniality’. While risking the accusation of sexism from some of my readers, having seen Ms Palin one surely has to question whether the other contestants were selected from the local Alaskan grizzly bear and moose community.

More importantly, while her qualification for beauty queen is entirely subjective, the ideals inside her head lend themselves to a somewhat more objective approach. A passion for firearms, coupled with total loyalty to the National Rifle Association; determination to increase oil and gas drilling in the, as yet, pristine Alaska wilderness; an obsessive approach to abortion causing her to birth a Down’s Syndrome child, even though tests revealed the condition while termination was still a practical possibility, and a passion for the death-penalty, all give cause for concern.

In a free country, the preceding list provides acceptable beliefs for any individual. Sarah Palin, though, makes it quite clear she is prepared to work her butt off to ensure we all comply with her ideals. Suddenly, the governor from Alaska turns into a bitch from Hell.

Those Americans considering voting for the McCain/Palin ticket may wish to pause a moment and ponder the following: today is McCains 72nd birthday. He’s not in the best of health. If he were to die while in office, he would bequeath to the nation a successor with virtually no experience of political office, no foreign policy experience, and a bevy of ill-thought-out ideals. Exactly the kind of person he’s spent many months attempting to have us believe is Barack Obama.

If this is an example of McCain’s decision-making, then I for one would prefer neither he, nor his vice-presidential choice, was the one answering the White House telephone at 3.00am.

Obama/Biden or McCain/Palin: Oh, please, America, is there really a choice?

Filed under: No, I haven’t

There’s not a lot to write about this week. Oh, sure, the Democratic Convention has attracted journalists and bloggers like drug pushers buzzing round Amy Winehouse – but that’s part of the problem. You see, no-one’s really interested in anything else going on the world right now.

For instance, if I were to tell almost any American that 2.5 million Indians had been displaced from their homes by flooding this week, they’d likely respond with, “Oh, that’s sad. Did you hear what Barack Obama had to say about……..” and it wouldn’t be anything to do with flooded Indians.^[1]

Americans are suffering from an acute bout of self-obsession at the moment. I know the chronic form is endemic at the best of times, but right now this disease has taken on a whole new meaning, with back-to-back Conventions for both political parties.

Still, one shouldn’t be too critical. After all, with the previous eight year reign of terror drawing to a close, Americans have a right to celebrate.

At least for a while, until they vote the next war-mongering, gun-loving, freedom-stifling, half-witted old gasbag into office.

^{[1] “India flood evacuations continue” BBC, August 29th 2008}

Filed under: Sick of Conventions