ANIMAL LOVERS FOR WAR

I have received, in the past two weeks, three messages from Paul and Heather McCartney, asking me to sign petitions against the East Coast seal hunt. It is easy to mock celebrities who involve themselves in politics -- I often do so myself -- but I have signed these petitions. The seal hunt is barbaric, and among the things that make me ashamed of my country would have to tie for first place with "lacklustre participation in the war on Islamofascism."

That both human and animal welfare concern me, a conservative, makes perfect sense. But others find it curious. I do volunteer work for animals, and when I speak to most of my co-volunteers of my support for the war in Iraq, and for the presence of Canadian troops in Afghanistan, the reactions are almost always wide-eyed. I will inevitably be subjected to a, "So, you care about animals, but not people?" No, I reply. I care very much about people. That's why I was happy to see Saddam taken down.

A libertarian friend recently said to me, "You don't fit the conservative mould. You've got the two Vs. You have a vagina, and you're a vegetarian." The former seems less out of place on today's right than the latter. But why should, I wonder, a desire to not live under the edicts of jihadists mean I think it's OK for animals to be clubbed to death? Why should a desire for less government intrusion in my life mean I think it's acceptable to subject livestock to cruelty? Why should my belief in free expression, or lower taxes, or my desire to see the likes of Slobodan Milosevic stopped mean I should find the various ways animals are abused acceptable? Does. Not. Compute.

I should make clear the kind of animal-rights advocate I am. Though I do not eat meat, fowl, fish or seafood, I don't mind if you do. But I think it should matter to you how the creatures you eat were treated in life, and were killed. I offer up, for example, my love/hate relationship with eggs.

Sometimes I cannot get beyond the fact that I am eating fetuses, sometimes I crave them to no end. When the latter overtakes me, I shell out the extra money for free-run eggs. And, while I am no hunting fan, I see a difference between a deer hunt, say, where the animal will be eaten, and the hunting of an animal for "sport." I would also like to see animal cruelty treated as a criminal offence.
I should make clear the kind of conservative I am. I am the kind who wishes to be kept free from religious dictatorship, Islamist and otherwise. I don't care who you sleep with, or marry, for that matter. Knock yourself out. Buy a gun, if you want. I believe in help for those who truly need it, including animals. They feel pain, they suffer and they are, all too often, the victims of human greed and stupidity.

It is a fact of my life that among many of my animal-rights friends, and my vast-right-wing-conspiracy friends, I am an oddity. Two nights a week, I wander through skanky alleyways in some of Toronto's worst neighbourhoods, feeding feral cat colonies. The woman I feed with wears a button that says, "War is not the Answer." I have tried to get her to tell me what she believes the answer to be (and, for that matter, what she believes the question to be). She hasn't managed to articulate that much, but she has stated that "George Bush's war" is about profiteering and contempt for Islam. My attempts to point out to her that the Taliban, and Saddam, were not averse to profits, nor were they particularly eco-friendly, nor friendly to many of their fellow Muslims, fall on deaf ears.
One night, we spotted a cat in distress, right front leg crushed (probably by a car), bleeding and hobbling on three legs. He managed to slink under a fence into someone's yard. As it was well past midnight, and no lights were on in the house in question, we decided to climb the fence and enter the property without permission. Not an ideal choice, but leaving the cat was unthinkable. Our actions woke up the homeowner, a man who came out yelling (understandably), abaya-wearing wife behind him. We apologized, and explained the situation ... to no avail. He told us to leave.
We went back the next morning and, fortunately, found the missus alone. She was kind, and allowed us the run of the yard. Eventually the cat was trapped (and is now a three-legged kitty amputee, living in a loving home). I believe my co-volunteer failed to see the disconnect between her button and her comments when, afterwards, she chuckled that "that had to be a Muslim man's worst nightmare. Two women climbing his backyard fence to save an animal. And then going behind his back to talk to his wife."

Alongside the seal hunt petitions I received was a list of "top petitions" people on my animal advocacy e-list were signing. Among them: "Stop the campaign of defamation and distortion against Islam" (regarding the Danish cartoons), "Support Paradise Now," (regarding the movie about Palestinian suicide bombers), and "The Complaint of Wiccan Rights to George W. Bush."
Apparently President Bush is denying Wiccans their rights. I wasn't aware of that. But I figure they can look after themselves. They're Wiccans. They've got spells. And they're humans. They can speak for themselves. Unlike say, animals.

Lost dogs of Katrina look for homes in Canada

Canada's Whale of a Dilemma

It is said that your right to swing your arm ends where your arm meets someone else's nose. And, I might add, your right to believe your late relative has been reincarnated as a killer whale ends where you prevent that whale from being returned to his pod.

Science and animal welfare concerns are clashing with political correctness off the coast of British Columbia, where an orca named Luna is making the news. Rubbing up against boats, alternately victimized and revered, he is stuck and hapless as humans try to help - provided it doesn't offend anyone.

Luna, now five, is a Southern Resident killer whale (an endangered species) who, in July of 2001, showed up in Nootka Sound, off Vancouver Island. The youngster had lost contact with his pod, or family unit, and wandered until he found a food source. Killer whales normally stay with their pod their whole life. Marine biologists theorize that he was swimming with an uncle who died.

Canada's Department of Fisheries and Oceans (DFO) initially decided to leave Luna be, hoping he would find his way back. He didn't. He traveled further inland toward Gold River, where he became famous. By the summer of 2003, tourists were traveling to Gold River to see him, touch him, and sadly, to abuse him. Some poked and prodded, others poured beer down his blowhole.

He's a big boy now - nearly 3,000 pounds - and some have wised up that Luna should be helped back to his pod, which, according to experts, is where he will thrive. The first (and so far only) attempt to reunite a killer whale with its pod was the case of Springer, in 2002. That relocation was successful and also took place off the coast of British Columbia. But Springer had not been away as long as Luna. Time is of the essence. Last fall, the decision was made to relocate Luna. The move was delayed until spring 2004, when Luna's pod was expected nearby.

Meanwhile, the Mowachaht-Muchalaht First Nations people, a native Canadian tribe, raised concerns about moving Luna, whom they call Tsuux-iit. Their late chief had said he would return in the form of a whale. Shortly after his death, Luna appeared.

In June, an oceanic battle took place. While scientists from the DFO and the Vancouver Aquarium tried to capture Luna, Mowachaht-Muchalaht members paddled their canoes out to stroke and scratch Luna's considerable belly, luring him away. The DFO backed off and in mid-September a joint stewardship was set up between the DFO and the Mowachaht-Muchalaht. The stewardship will focus on ways to keep humans from bothering the whale. Its downside is that no date has been set for his relocation, in spite of the fact that the next few weeks - as boating season dies down - would be opportune.

It is hard to believe any community other than a native group would be given such power. Expressions of guilt - some sincere, some not - over past injustices have created an environment, at least in Canada, where anything short of concurrence with native ideas is seen as arrogance. Killer whales may well be important in native mythology. And there are more things in heaven and earth, and all that. But Luna is not a mythological whale, he's a real one. Perhaps a simple, "We're sorry we stole your land, but the whale needs its pod" is in order.

Another factor is the prevailing belief that aboriginals cannot be incorrect about the environment. History shows them no more or less reverential of nature than the rest of us. (One scientific theory of why more than 30 species of mammals disappeared in North America between 12,000 and 13,000 years ago is that they were hunted to extinction.) Not to mention, the Mowachaht-Muchalaht are part of a larger tribal council, the Nuu-chah-nulth, which has an existing right to hunt certain species of whales. True, they cannot hunt killer whales. But if you are claiming a special relationship with wildlife, consistency is helpful.

If Luna were a child, there would be no debate. A headline this summer in a West Coast paper read, "Spiritual bond between killer whales and West Coast aboriginals runs deep." Do the whales agree? The inability of so many of us to recognize animals as beings worthy of respect is at the heart of Luna's struggle. He is not a thing. And not only is he vulnerable where he is, he is endangering the people around him. He rocks boats, he "plays" with floats. Scientists monitoring Luna - who is still using Southern Resident calls - think this is a sign of this creature's very real loneliness.

Festival should pull plug on cat-killing movie

Spearing Bambi was a Royal Mistake

     Generally, I don't like young people and their music. They, and it, scare me. Give me Frank Sinatra or Bobby Darin anytime. Generally, I don't think celebrities ought to talk politics or world issues. I think they ought to stay with what they do best -- sticking things up their noses, being promiscuous, appearing at awards shows, posing for the cameras with dying children and pretending to be "really very shy."

    But I will make an exception on both counts for the pierced and brightly coiffed Ms. Pink, who recently royally dissed the formerly wonderful -- back when he had his mum around -- William the Itty Bitty Deer Slaughterer. In a letter to Prince Deer Killer, Pink told the handsome one that while she was "happy to hear that I was your first choice to play at your 21st birthday bash," she was then "disgusted to learn that you hunt and kill animals for fun."

    Wills, on a recent trip to Africa, rammed a gigantic spear through an unsuspecting (and unarmed) 14-inch high dik-dik. There's nothing like a fair fight, is there? Off with his regal blond head, I say. I don't care how nice-looking he his, how white his teeth are, how endearing he looked in that stupid Roots Olympic hat, how much he reminds everyone of his dead mother. What he did was barbaric. As far as I know, the defenceless little deer was not threatening William's safety, did not walk into Buckingham Palace with a shotgun saying "the Crown Jewels or your life" and was not the first source of food the Prince had seen in weeks. And I dare say Mama Di would agree. But unfortunately, Wills no longer has her loving influence, it having been replaced by the apparently unfeeling influence of his dad and his dad's "companion."

    When I say "companion," sadly, I do not mean a golden retriever, but rather, Camilla Parker-Bowles, a woman who looks as though she is already related to the royals ... via their horses.

    You may guess that I am an animal lover. Don't eat them. Don't wear them. But I don't especially object should others eat and wear (some of) them. I see a difference between wearing leather and wearing fur, for example. The cow, at least, is not wasted and simply killed so some frustrated old shrew can wander about in something a lot prettier than herself and scream out, without actually having to, "I have a lot of money" and/or "I have had sex with someone who has a lot of money." Of course, that frustrated old shrew is also shouting out, whether she realizes it or not, "I am dead inside." I will confess to taking delight in the physical and financial suffering of humans due to mad cow disease. And I will confess that sometimes, when I am out with friends and see them chowing down on animal carcass, I find myself wishing a bout of some kind of spongiform encephalopathy on them. Not a fatal form, though. I'm a nice girl.

    In her letter to the Prince, Pink suggested that perhaps his show of mindless violence was "some kind of 'trying to prove you're a man' trip." That's as good a guess as any, but I don't think it much matters what William was trying to prove. The proof was in the cruelty and the cruelty proved that he is indeed, tragically, a royal -- underworked, overpaid, inbred and without London being blitzed or a Jubilee to celebrate, not creative enough to come up with something productive to do. I am fond of the Queen -- I still remember the day she came to my Grade One class to wave and smile at us. My mother and I, breathless with excitement, French-braided my hair and spent hours picking an outfit beforehand. Happy memories aside though, I'm not convinced I want Liz's dik-dik murdering grandson on my money.

    But William is young and could come round. His grandmother, kind to her horses and corgis, may enlighten him. Pink, through her outrage, was more indulgent than I. She conceded in her letter that "we all make mistakes in our lives and we can all change. Hopefully you'll have a change of heart and find more interesting things to do with your spare time than kill animals ... Then maybe I'll come play at your next birthday!"

    By then, I may even own a Pink CD, lonely as it will be amidst the crooners.

Who'll take Buddy?: More and more pet owners are making provisions for their animals in their wills. Don't assume, say the experts, your relatives will welcome your pets with open arms if something happens to you

Squeak, the Jack Russell terrier who refused to leave the body of his murdered master in Zimbabwe last week, is still grieving. According to relatives of Terry Ford, the white farmer killed by one of Robert Mugabe's mobs last Monday, 14-year-old Squeak is not eating or drinking and seems to be looking for his master everywhere. That Squeak at least had someone to take him in makes him relatively lucky. People have been touched by the dog's loyalty, but still, many don't think ahead where their pets are concerned.

A famous exception was Ernest Hemingway, who, before his suicide in 1961, did what many people are now doing with the help of their lawyers: He provided for the security of his pets. While he did not name them in his will, he asked his family to ensure that after his death his beloved cats, including his famous six-toed kitten (given to him by a Cuban boat captain as a good luck charm), would be looked after in the manner to which they had become accustomed.

In other words, they would stay where they were -- at his home in Key West, Fla. -- and be cared for until the time of their natural deaths. When the house became the Hemingway Museum, the cats stayed, as did their descendants, now numbering more than 60. The famously macho writer, who coined the phrase "one cat inevitably leads to another," would be pleased with what a feline-friendly city Key West has become as a result (probably the only city in the world where strays are welcome in the lobbies of five-star hotels).

It may seem crazy to some. In 1946, journalist H. Allen Smith (best known for taking the first official drink at the end of Prohibition) wrote a novel called Rhubarb about a cat who inherits a professional baseball team. It was made into a movie in 1951 and considered amusing, yet unrealistic, fluff. But in the past 10 years, more people -- and not just the eccentric and the wealthy -- are making provisions for their pets in their wills.

Typically, people will set aside a sum of money to cover day-to-day needs and medication -- usually between $15,000 and $25,000 -- and name an individual or organization to care for their pet. Failure to think ahead can mean euthanasia, unless the deceased has a relative or friend willing to step up to the plate.

Katie Loftus, major and planned gift coordinator at the Toronto Humane Society (THS), says she cannot stress enough "how important it is to have a plan for your pet. In our opinion, it is ideal to do so, and if you don't like our program, that's fine, but we encourage you to find a program or place you do like. You are responsible for your pets."

The Toronto Humane Society's Animal Stewardship Program currently has 65 human and 140 animal registrants (including cats, dogs, a turtle and a chinchilla). Through the program, a person leaves $10,000 to the THS in their will -- not an upfront payment -- and, of course, their pet.

They are also encouraged to provide the THS with as much information as possible about that pet (likes, dislikes, medical history, habits) so it can be placed in an appropriate home. If the right home cannot be found immediately, the pet will be placed in foster care, rather than going through the shelter system.

"Some people give us the names of people they think might want to take their pets," adds Loftus, "and that's a great help to us."

Loftus says some of the people enrolled in the program set out in their will that the THS should keep the $10,000 in the event their pet dies before they do. And if the pet dies before the money gets used up? "We put the rest into our regular shelter system to help the animals there."

A recent success for the program came about with the help of Breakfast Television, a Citytv morning show. THS was having trouble placing a 12-year-old cat whose owner had died.

"Often," says Loftus, "people only want kittens or puppies, not older animals."

But after the cat made an appearance on the show, the dream adoptive parent called in with "a real happy end."

Jane Moore (not her real name), a Toronto woman with "a few" cats and dogs, says she and her husband have planned well for them. "It's in our will that our house and a fair bit of money goes to a friend who agrees to move in with our pets. At the death of the last animal, the estate is settled and any remaining money goes to charities."

Moore admits some family members think she and her husband are "nuts" to do this. "And probably they also wish we'd leave our money to their kids."

Interestingly, Moore's godmother recently inherited a parrot (and a trust fund) from a friend. She has promised to find a home for the parrot for when she herself dies, as parrots tend to outlive people. Because of this, many owners of exotic birds choose to leave those birds to sanctuaries or aviaries rather than with individuals.

Home for Life is an animal sanctuary located on 40 acres in Wisconsin. It currently houses about 40 animals under the auspices of its Angel Care, a program in which people can guarantee their pet's security after their death. Non-profit, it is also for pets whose owners have gone into nursing homes; and like many shelters, it is swamped with more animals than donations.

Home for Life's Lisa Micallef says that "while I notice a lot of younger people are looking ahead for their pets, a lot of others assume their family will take their pets when they die, but they shouldn't assume anything."

Micallef is currently trying to take in six cats whose 86-year-old owner recently died. The gentleman's children won't take them, but also aren't willing to make a donation to the sanctuary.

Coreen Derome, who volunteers at the Royal City Humane Society in New Westminster, B.C., a no-kill shelter, sees the same kinds of situations Micallef describes.

"We've taken in a number of pets because their owners died without providing for them, just thinking that relatives would take them."

Derome says this is one reason the society is developing a program similar to the Toronto Humane Society's.

Mike Milne, of Toronto's Annex Cat Rescue, another no-kill organization, gives two examples of cats taken in by his group when the owners became ill or died and no arrangement had been made. One was an 18-year-old who lived out the rest of his life (two more years) in a loving foster home, another a five-year-old named Lulu, now in foster care and awaiting a permanent home.

Some pets are so identified with their owners that one cannot imagine them separated. Elisabeth Mann Borgese, the daughter of Thomas Mann and professor in the political science department at Dalhousie, had dogs that she taught to play the piano. Like Hemingway's cats, the dogs became local celebrities.

When Borgese died in February at the age of 83, it came as no surprise to those who knew her that she had given careful thought to her musical dogs: She left a monthly stipend for the care of the three dogs, and each went to a different friend.

One was a fellow professor, Fred Hammond of Bard College, whose own dogs had come from a litter of Borgese's. They had a deal that whoever died first would take in the grieving household dogs. Hammond had written a book years earlier and dedicated it to Borgese, calling her "the mother of my children."

"She loved that," says Kathleen McConnell of Dalhousie's English department, "because she thought of the confusion it would cause Mann family scholars."

McConnell is also taking one of Borgese's dogs, Serio. She calls herself the "Hundefraulein Emeritus" and says that "taking him in is, for me, simply the right thing to do. What is difficult is letting the others go elsewhere."

Copyright National Post 2002 All Rights Reserved.

Shadow leaves two owners and six puppies:
Pet obituaries: Philadelphia paper launches new feature

The Nobel Prize-winning writer Isaac Bashevis Singer, being interviewed by Dick Cavett in the early 1970s, told the television host he would never harm even a mosquito. "Well," asked a surprised Cavett, "are you saying you think the life of a mosquito is as important as the life of a man?" Singer's answer? "I have seen no evidence to the contrary."

Singer isn't here to witness the fuss being raised around the decision of the Philadelphia Daily News to run pet obituaries (in a separate section from the human obituaries). He died 11 years ago. But he would probably be happy with the decision. The notices will run once a month under the heading "A Fond Farewell to our Beloved Pet."

The cost to run the obituary is just over US$50 and can include a picture if the owner wishes. The first batch ran last Tuesday, and Daily News classified managing editor Carl Meline said the paper may increase the frequency of the pet obituary page if there is sufficient demand.

Philadelphia Daily News editors had been contemplating running pet obits for a while, according to staff there, but the idea came to fruition recently when one Daily News staffer's memories of a pet caught the attention of editor Zack Stalberg. Stalberg was touched by what his colleague had written, and thought there had to be a lot of readers who would respond positively to the idea of a print tribute to their animal friends.

Another editor at the Daily News, Debi Licklider, got the ball rolling last week with a memorial to Winnie, her 9-year-old West Highland Terrier, who died a few months ago. Licklider said the people at the Daily News are thinking of the section more as "pet tributes" than standard obituaries. "It's something you can cut out and keep. We also think people other than the owners may like to read them."

Licklider said her tribute to Winnie made her see that "there were a lot of things I wanted to say even though I only had a couple of sentences." She also let it be known that as someone with two kids, "it's not like I'm making my dog into a child, but it made me realize how big a part of your life they can be."

Other newspapers have tried pet obituaries, including the Tacoma Tribune and the Sun of Bremerton, both in Washington, though not to huge success. The Sun runs the pet obituaries on the same page as the human ones, but Sun obituary writer (for both pets and people) Beth Mateikat says her paper only ran four last year. "One was for a wonderful police dog named Buddy," she remembers. "I certainly hope people will respond well to this in Philadelphia."

Mateikat plans to contribute a memorial (in the Sun) for one of her cats who was recently hit by a car and killed. "It happened in January and I still feel so badly. People have told me it has helped them get closure."

Ethologist and veterinarian Dr. Michael Fox, author of Bringing Life to Ethics, appeared on a CNN talk show last week answering critics of the pet obituaries. "I'm hearing a lot of judgmental comments about how people choose to express their pain. The bottom line is, when we have loved an animal and we miss it, why not use the obituary column? Recently His Holiness the Pope said that animals are imbued with the same spirit as we are. I would say that they are certainly as ensouled as we are, and many animals are far superior to human beings in their loyalty and trust and lack of artifice, those virtues that we find increasingly lacking in our own species. And just remember, man is an animal, too."

Toronto psychiatrist Dr. Irvin Wolkoff, who calls himself "absolutely not at all a pet guy," sees the benefits of the Daily News feature. "For people who love their animals, there is really no difference in their feeling around the death of a pet or a person. It is truly a kind of heartbreak, and a grieving period is necessary. And unfortunately it isn't socially acceptable to admit that, and the ridicule of others only makes it worse." The pet obituaries, he says, are therefore "a welcome outlet."

"When I look at a pet," he continues, "I may be seeing a fuzzy quadruped, but other people see a character in their lives, someone who matters. People may snicker, but there is no question that the relationship between a human and their pet is far less complicated and far more satisfying than the relationship between two humans."

Which may explain what happened when our family cat, Brandywine, died years ago. She was 21 and we had got her when she was 8 weeks old. We were all inconsolable, no one more so than my father, who had been with her when she was euthanized. "He wouldn't cry like that if one of you kids died," said my mother. And why should he? We weren't nearly as nice to him, or each other, as Brandywine was.

Copyright National Post 2002 All Rights Reserved.

Picking on the presidential pussycat

When Rover can't come over: People with disabled pets can find plenty of helpful devices -- from wheelchairs and harnesses to diapers and ramps -- at HandicappedPets.com. "It takes a lot of worry and guilt off people's minds."

The boss whisperer: The man who listens to horses turns his attention to the workplace

When Queen Elizabeth demands you write a book, it's something you may want to consider, says Monty Roberts. That, in fact, is how Roberts' book about his revolutionary non-violent "Join-up" method of training horses came about. The Man Who Listens to Horses was published in 1997 to great acclaim.

More than 10 years ago, after reading a magazine article about Join-up, the Queen invited Roberts to Buckingham Palace. He worked with her and her horses and he has done so more than 20 times since then, always in England. (The Queen wanted to visit his ranch, the 200-acre Flag Is Up Farms, in California, but was concerned about security.)

Since then Roberts has written Shy Boy: The Horse that Came in from the Wild and the newly released Horse Sense for People. In the latter, he talks about applying the principles of his Join-up method to human relations. The traditional method of training a horse -- "breaking-in" or breaking its spirit -- involves whipping, beating, restraint and sometimes even breaking the animal's bones until it is compliant. "No one has the right to say 'You must or I will hurt you' to any creature, human or animal."

Roberts' method involves communicating with the horse through body language and eye contact, respecting the horse's natural tendency to flight when it senses danger, and it allows a trainer to saddle, bridle and ride a horse in half an hour. "It's trust and motivation, rather than violence and coercion," he says, adding that he has never not been successful at using this method.

Everyone, says Roberts, has the chip in them that will allow them to communicate with horses and other animals. Most of us, he says, have simply not explored such things, nor are we encouraged to do so."Through a quirky set of circumstances, I learned to nurture that part of me."

"Quirky" may not seem the right word for those circumstances. Roberts, 66, was brought up by an extremely violent father who was also a horse trainer. His father was so brutal that his beatings sometimes landed his son in the hospital. Roberts did not become violent himself, and credits the horses at his father's ranch with that. "Through a series of acceptances of me they taught me that I could put violence aside and have a much more worthwhile life because of it." By the time Roberts was a teen he was already learning the language of horses; Equus, he calls it.

When he grew up and developed Join-up, it was to the dismay of not only his father but of other horse trainers. He was thrown out of the fraternity of horse trainers right around the world, though behind closed doors many showed an interest. "They realized when they watched me, and because of the fact that I have trained nine world champions, that I couldn't possibly have it all wrong, could I?"

Sadly, he and his father never resolved their differences. Six months before his death, Roberts' father watched him work. "He watched me start [Roberts prefers "start" to "break"] 22 horses in one day and all he could say was 'That's suicide.' " Ironically, says Roberts, this was from a man who had harmed him more by the time he was four (he still nurses back injuries from his childhood beatings) than all of the horses Roberts has ever trained put together.

Over the years Roberts did demonstrations of Join-up and found that most of his audiences were corporate executives, not animal trainers. "I think a lot of people in power are finally realizing it's not enough to stand in the doorway and yell 'Produce more or you're dead!' "

He began holding corporate conferences at Flag Is Up (he holds about 40 a year) and since the '80s has attracted clients from American Express, AT&T, Citibank, Merrill Lynch, Prudential, Visa and others. Currently he is working with DaimlerChrysler. Volkswagen North America CEO Clive Warrilow wrote the forward to Horse Sense for People.

As with horses, Roberts encourages positive reinforcement for good work, and negative consequences for negative output. And by negative he doesn't mean violence of any kind, including verbal abuse. "There's a big difference between not giving someone a promotion and telling them they're useless."

Warrilow refers to the day he watched Roberts train horses as "the big ah-hah." Some of the changes he instituted at the troubled Volkswagen North America included giving middle managers greater autonomy and no longer punishing dealers who miss sales targets. Instead, he asked them to "think of ways to do the job differently." Another change? The powers at VW North America, says Warrilow, actually began reading the suggestions left by workers in suggestion boxes. The ultimate result of this was the new Beetle and a financial upswing for the company.

The principles behind Join-up, says Roberts, also work with child-rearing. He and his wife, Pat, have three grown children of their own and have taken in 47 foster children over the years. Of those 47, only seven, he says, could not be called success stories.

The idea of using positive reinforcement rather than berating someone may seem so simple one might wonder why it needs to be taught. "Human beings are predators," says Roberts, "with an inherent desire to control our environment. When we can get away with it we'll revert to violence. It's a question of discipline and learning compassion."

Roberts' work was the inspiration for the Nicholas Evans book and the Disney film The Horse Whisperer, but he refused to endorse the movie, because of a key scene in the film depicting violence and cruelty toward an animal. "Can you imagine what Walt Disney would think of that movie? He spent his life engendering kindness to animals."

To the critics who dismiss his methods as New-Agey fluff, Roberts is quick to remind them that "horses and their language have been around for 50 million years. There's nothing new about it."

Copyright National Post 2001 All Rights Reserved.

Plot? Well, there are squirrels, you see. And some birds.: Video Catnip is Gone With the Wind for the feline set

At the start of Video Catnip, the usual FBI warning about unauthorized duplication is shown, followed by a different kind of warning: "While watching this video, your cat may become excited and attempt to get inside your television set to get at the birds. Do not play this tape if the back or sides of your TV set are missing or loose. We strongly suggest that you remove all breakables from on top and around your TV set. No kitting."

Video Catnip features half an hour of birds and squirrels against a background of wacky music and real wildlife sounds. Created in 1989, it has become the best-selling pet-related videotape of all time with sales now exceeding the US$2-million mark. The video's producer, Steve Malarkey, is also the founder of Pet AVision, Inc. ("The Best in Kitty Entertainment"), which distributes several other videos for cats, as well as one for humans who love cats, Non-Stop Kittens.

Malarkey, who lives and runs his company in Morgantown, W. Va., says it all began with his "early mid-life crisis. I was tired of working." He had, at the age of 35, been a computer technician in Washington, D.C., for more than 12 years and wanted to do something else, something fun.

"I had been a cat guy my whole life, and I would go to these cat shows and see people just waving money around." You name it, says Malarkey, people were buying it: cat trees, cat dishes, cat toys, cat furniture.

Malarkey, who kept his full-time job during this period, wanted to come up with something new. He designed a heated cat box, but had trouble getting permission to sell them, and besides, "it was a lot of money, too much of a start-up cost." He then tried making cat trees, but admits he's "not exactly the handyman type." So that fell through as well.

Then one morning, Malarkey was watching CBS newsman Charles Kuralt's old show, On the Road, "which always ended with a pastoral scene including deer romping through a beautiful meadow." The local show that came on after it must have had a much smaller budget, remembers Malarkey, "because it ended with footage of birds outside the broadcast studio. They had obviously been lured there by a handful of birdseed thrown by the camera crew."

Apparently the local station's phone lines would regularly light up with calls from cat owners saying that their cats were going bananas for the segment. This included Malarkey's own cat, who would come into the room "like a shot from out of nowhere" and stay, mesmerized by the birds.

Malarkey had his idea. He made Video Catnip, but it took a while for things to take off. He took a thousand copies to a cat show and sold, he laughs, about three copies. "People just said, 'Oh, this isn't going to work,' but at least a couple of folks gave it a try."

What finally got the company off the ground -- and allowed Malarkey to leave his old job -- was an Associated Press article about the product that ran in late 1990. "We had run a television commercial for our video locally, on a D.C. station, and a reporter for AP saw it."

Things skyrocketed. Pet AVision got orders from department stores, mail-order stores, pet shops and specialty gift shops. "Our mail-order business in particular got out of control." Soon after, Malarkey made Non-Stop Kittens on the premise that some cats like to watch other cats, but the kittens video has turned out to be most popular among humans, especially young ones. "It's unbearably cute," says Malarkey.

The major reason Malarkey didn't start producing dozens of videos was that, once he started up his business, the competition sprung up at a phenomenal rate. "Once we hit the street, just about anyone with a video camera started doing it."

Pet AVision has seen more than two dozen competitors come and go in the past decade and frequently, Malarkey and crew have ended up snapping up kitty films from them. Pet AVision now has six videos for cats in its library (including The Adventures of Larry Lizard and The Adventures of Freddy Fish) but have only actually created one of them.

Malarkey thinks there are three reasons for his company's staying power. "First of all, we were really lucky to have come up with the Video Catnip title. It's easy to remember and it's cute."

Second, he says, is the Beta format. "It's just plain better, though extremely expensive. A lot of our competition used something cheaper, and the resolution in our videos is a lot sharper and clearer, and I think that's why the cats go for it. I mean, no one really knows what cats see, of course, or if they all have 20/20 vision. But every factor helps."

Finally, adds Malarkey, Video Catnip is the Gone With the Wind of kitty videos, the classic. A lot of kitty-video-maker wannabes, he points out, have tried to go the fancy route and use wildebeests or insects or zebras. "We stick with the basics here. And of course, no matter how many times your cat watches the video, it isn't as though he's going to say 'Hey, I've already seen these birds and squirrels! Give me something new!' "

Malarkey is proud to have had veterinarians recommend his product as a good way to alleviate kitty stress and separation anxiety. He has received thousands of letters from satisfied customers, including one woman whose cat was suffering through chemotherapy. "She wrote us that the only thing that perked him up during that time was the video."

Others have told him their cats have got addicted to it -- as befits something called "catnip" -- and that they have literally worn out the videotape showing it over and over to them. "It's like when kids used to wear out their Beatles albums."

People have also sent him photos of their cats watching the video (kitty faces four centimetres from the screen) or of their kitties whacking the screen with their paws (a typical reaction, apparently) in an attempt to stop the squirrel or bird before them.

Malarkey's and his wife's three cats all have different reactions to Video Catnip. "One of our cats, Waldo McBee, will watch every time and any time. He'll sit through most of the show riveted. Lucy, our youngest, will also watch through the whole show, but is a little more easily distracted."

And then there's Spike, Malarkey's oldest, who has been around since the beginning of it all and "has finally got absolutely sick of it." Spike, says Malarkey, is also the smartest of his cats. "I wonder if that means something?"

Copyright National Post 2001 All Rights Reserved.

What do you humans think you're doing?: When their owners get amorous, some pets get curious. Others register frank disapproval. 'I always felt he was saying, "Get off her you brute, she's
mine!" '

Linda, a 30-year-old teacher in Owen Sound, Ont., calls it "the deal breaker." Her three cats, Sticky, Hugh and Dean, (names of cats -- and people -- have been changed) get to stay on the bed when her boyfriend, David, stays over, and if David can't handle it, he can leave. "The cats were in my life before he was, and they are used to sleeping with me. So he has to be willing to share the bed with them." Linda doesn't see a problem. After all, she points out, it's not as though David is allergic to them.

David sees a problem. "When we make love, Hugh in particular tries to get involved, while the other two just stare. He climbs on top of whoever is on top, which in itself is bad enough. But sometimes his claws haven't been clipped for a while, and it can really hurt!"

After they're done, cat involvement continues. David remembers one of the first times he stayed over at Linda's place. The couple were lying together in a moment of post-passion bliss and Dean decided, as befits a curious cat, that he ought to examine David's body, particularly the parts of it that set it apart from Linda's. "I think Dean was very used to seeing Linda naked, but not a naked man. And, you know, he got close to my private parts, sniffing and inspecting, and I found that unnerving."

Over time, that kind of behaviour has died down. Linda's cats are quite used to David and his body now, but they still like to hang out when the waves are pounding the beach.

One compromise the couple attempted -- with no great success -- was to lock the cats out of the bedroom while they were making love and then allow them back in to sleep on the bed afterward. The problem was that the kitty triumvirate would sit outside the door and meow and stick their little paws underneath, scratching the floor and making as much ruckus as they could. Linda felt guilty and David says he "couldn't concentrate on what I was doing."

Sticky, Hugh and Dean came back in. And Linda and David are back where they started.

Funny? Yes. Unusual? Ask around.

Years ago I was dating a guy, Paul, who had a fabulous dog, Virgil. Virgil was one of those dogs who always look as if they are smiling, and he looked especially like that while my beau and I were having our fun. He would sit by the bed and every time one of us looked over, there he would be, smiling and, frequently, barking.

I didn't mind, but for the fact that barking at such close range hurt my ears. Paul, however, was creeped out and wanted us to make love only "really quietly and with almost no motion." That didn't work, so the decision was made to lock poor Virgil out. Virgil whimpered and got that wounded dog look on his face, and Paul and I both felt like the meanest people on Earth.

Christy, a Sudbury doctor, says that whenever anything gets started between her and her husband, their dog, Melody, crawls under their bed and won't emerge till it's over. "All motion has to have ceased before she's out from under the bed again."

Bob and Susan, a Toronto couple in their 50s, have a 100-lb Labrador. "If I complain there isn't room for the three of us, Susan tells me to sleep on the couch," says Bob. Sex is "a challenge." Trixie sleeps between Bob and Susan and does "a pretty good job of preventing anything from starting up." If they do manage to get something going, Trixie tries to push Bob away with her paws, and then starts licking Susan's face. "After a long struggle," says Bob, "Trixie goes to the end of the bed and ignores us while we have sex. But we know she's not happy."

Andrea and Michael, Ottawa newlyweds and the owners of cats Timmy and Penny, say that "one or the other may try to jump on top of us while we're doing the nasty. Or they try to at least stay on the bed, but usually they get heaved off by the movement and walk away with great looks of disgust on their faces."

Before Michael came along, Andrea had another boyfriend who inspired massive anxiety in Timmy. "Timmy would meow and growl all during the action. I always felt he was saying 'Get off her you brute, she's mine!' Sometimes he would even pee on the floor next to the bed while we were carrying on." Happily, Timmy likes Michael and there's no more growling or inappropriate peeing.

Chris Jefferson, a Reiki healer and telepath for both animals and humans, thinks Timmy may have known something. "Animals sense dissonance a lot more quickly than we do. Andrea may want to ask herself what she really thought of that guy."

More often than not, though, says Jefferson, who works in Tottenham, Ont., our pets have more wholesome reasons for wanting to watch us get all hot and bothered. "When two people make love, there's heat, energy, electricity. It's a wonderful place, and the pet can't help but be enthralled by it all. Why wouldn't they want to be there?"

Pets, if they are treated properly, adds Jefferson, feel they are part of the family, and don't understand why they wouldn't be welcome everywhere. "It's like, 'You guys are having fun, why can't I join in?' And if they see the bed as their bed, then they may just be thinking, 'Come on, finish already, I want to sleep!' "

Jefferson says there's nothing weird about being completely comfortable with the presence of your pets. They are not, she points out, children. "You won't have to sit down with them the next morning and explain what Mommy and Daddy were doing."

In fact, says Jefferson, if you are uncomfortable with the presence of your pets during intimate moments, you may want to ask yourself why. "What is it that bugs you? Is it just the beady little eyes watching? Is it performance anxiety? If that's the case, you're the one with the problem, not your pet."

Dogs may want to get between people, but only because they are pack animals and see everything as a potential group activity from which they don't want to be excluded. Also, says Jefferson, dogs are protectors. "They may be worried about the person they have bonded with more, or they may simply be concerned about losing their spot in the pack hierarchy."

Cats, on the other hand, feel they can do everything better than us, says Jefferson. "You know how your cat will bring you a dead mouse, as though to say, 'Hey, bozo, here's how you hunt.' Well, when they climb on top during sex, they're probably trying to say, 'Hey, bozo, let me show you how to do this. You humans never know what you're doing.'"

Copyright National Post 2001 All Rights Reserved.

Soothing the savage beast: The Tellington Touch, similar to both massage therapy and acupuncture, can work wonders with anxious, troubled animals -- even a bulimic cat

Why I've turned against Clinton

Beavers in the bathtub: Even this wildlife rehabilitator wasn't prepared for these orphans

Lil Anderson likes to look out her back window and watch the beaver family (parents and six kits, or babies) that lives in the pond behind her house. While many who live in Canada's northern regions consider such a sight mundane, Anderson, 44, a wildlife rehabilitator in Kenora, Ont., has good reason to take a special interest.

She raised the father of the family, Eh, from infancy and successfully rehabilitated and reintroduced him into the wild. The experience of raising a baby beaver -- described, along with other animal tales, in her book Beavers Eh to Bea: Tales from a Wildlife Rehabilitator -- was new to her, in spite of many years spent taking in all kinds of critters.

"It's pretty rare to find orphaned beavers," she says. This is because trappers who hunt beaver generally prefer not to do so during baby season, even though by law, they are permitted. If some do choose to trap at that time -- often because of contracts to highways or cottagers -- then when the adult beavers are shot, the young will stay in the den and die there. Usually no effort is made to locate the kits. If they manage to crawl out, they quickly fall victim to predators.

In the spring of 1994 Anderson received a call from a woman whose children had rescued a baby beaver, possibly only two or three days old. Its house was being torn apart by dogs. Once home with her new charge, Anderson bundled him into a dark box (like kittens, beaver kits can't handle bright lights for their first couple of weeks) with a stuffed toy and a hot water bottle, and set about doing her research.

"I felt so inadequate," she remembers, talking about her efforts to find the right food and mother's milk replacement for the kit now christened "Beaver kit A." Anderson, who works nine to five at the Ministry of Natural Resources in Kenora as a resource technician (her rehab work is done on her own time, making for long days), says she always tries to maintain a certain detachment from her foundlings.

But it wasn't long before A became Eh. "He was such a little character," Anderson recalls, that she knew he needed a real name. She would strap him into a makeshift baby bunting bag with his stuffed toy and water bottle and carry him with her while she did housework. "I can remember hearing these soft murmurs, like a little baby would make, and look in and see him so blissed out." Anderson would also make sure Eh got at least two swims in the bathtub each day. She marvelled at his meticulous grooming when he came out of the water, or after he had feasted on his favourite meal of apples and yams.

Apart from Eh, Anderson and her husband, wildlife biologist Bruce Ranta, had an ever changing menagerie of orphans at home -- fawns, eagles, robins, hawks, woodchucks and squirrels -- as well as a dog, Heidi. And soon their household would grow yet again. Not long after Eh showed up, the local vet called Anderson and told her that Beaver kit B was waiting for her at the clinic. Found abandoned in a ditch, he was, when she came to pick him up, "sitting indignantly in a box, muttering and mumbling loudly," she laughs.

Beaver kit B became Bea. A little older than Eh, he had been in the wild longer but the two became fast friends. Watching the kits over the next few months, playing, growing and developing their own personalities, enthralled Anderson.

Some incidents particularly struck her. One day, Eh, trying to climb out of a little pen Anderson had set up for him, instead fell on his behind into a tub of water, and was visibly embarrassed, reprimanding Anderson with hand slaps. Later, while building his home, Eh would show off for some of Anderson's visitors, spreading mud across the den's outside wall with the drama and panache of a budding Michelangelo. "They showed high levels of communication, sharing little jokes, sorrows, identifiable looks and vocalizations whose meanings were obvious. And not just with each other, but with us."

Anderson found herself rethinking the attitudes she had previously held about anthropomorphism. "I believe that what we arrogantly call 'human' emotions, individuality and thought processes are actually shared by all of the higher mammals."

That was never clearer to Anderson and Ranta than when Bea fell ill in the fall of '94 after eating poisonous leaves. He died shortly after. Anderson was devastated, but no more than Eh, who would not be consoled. In fact, when Anderson found Bea's body, Eh was clinging to it so tightly that he had to be pried loose.

"It was a painful time for all of us." Eh would slap his tail and hiss at Anderson, blaming her for Bea's disappearance. Eh lost a significant amount of weight that fall, stopped playing, and would swim only minimally. Anderson went out of her way to spend extra time with Eh, and lavish affection on him. The treatment helped. So did the passage of time.

Eh spent that winter indoors, in Anderson's basement, and the following year she and her husband focused on training him for life without them. This included bringing him on day trips to lakes to swim with wild beavers. One failed attempt to leave him there (he was too young, and the older beavers chased him off, but not before biting him) convinced the couple to build a pond on their 155 acres so that Eh could start from there. It worked. Eh built his own den and spent the winter there.

The following year he was two, the age when male beavers leave their territory to stake out new spots. This is what Eh did, and Anderson thought she wouldn't see him again. But he came back (he is recognizable by an unusual scar on his back) and he wasn't alone. Eh had found a mate, and now he and Mrs. Eh live in his old pond with their own kits (Anderson calls them her "grandkids").

"He's expanded the pond considerably from what Bruce and I dug," notes Anderson. Eh is also recognizable by his size -- he weighs in at an impressive 70 pounds, much heftier than your average beaver. This is probably due to his initial fattening up on human food. "All my animals are fat," admits Anderson.

He is now completely wild and will no longer approach his human mother, not even for his beloved apples or yams. "That's exactly what a wildlife rehabilitator wants," insists Anderson, "but I must admit, it's bittersweet." She hopes, though, that he will stick around for his potential 20-year lifespan.

The current array chez Anderson includes Heidi and a new dog, Brill, as well as injured eagles, owls, pigeons and chickens. Since Eh and Bea, she has also looked after two adult beavers.

In spite of having raised all manner of wildlife, her experience with Eh and Bea remains unique. "The beaver gets a bad-boy image. But you know, this country was built on its back and there has to be more tolerance."

She says, however, that she is optimistic. "There is a lot of love for wildlife in Canada. People just have to learn how to apply it."

Copyright National Post 2000 All Rights Reserved.

Wild things (feeding Toronto's wild cats)

'Hello mudda, hello fadda: Having fun here' -- your chihuahua

Shelley and Kerry and Moses and Sarah are typical summertime campers. In fact, they have had so much fun hiking and swimming and doing crafts these past few days that it's hard to believe they miss their parents. But when Sarah's dad pulls up to the camp gates, Sarah cannot be restrained. She practically drags camp owner Lisa Brooks, who is hanging on to her leash, into the family minivan with her.

Sarah is an Irish wolfhound. She'll miss her friends -- Shelley, the white Lab; Kerry, the border collie cross; Moses, the black Lab; and many others -- and the fun they had at Happy Tails, a camp for pets (mostly dogs) in Huntsville, Ont., founded and run by Brooks. Happy Tails (a.k.a. Muskoka Pet Camp) has been in operation for four years as an animal daycare centre, and for the past two years as a bona fide camp where pets can stay for weeks or even months and where counsellors take them through their daily paces, heap affection on them, grow attached to them and feel sad to see them go.

Brooks, who grew up in the Huntsville area, has been an animal lover for as long as she can remember. "As a kid, I tried to turn my sock drawer into a terrarium," she says, laughing at the memory of her mother opening the drawer and finding snakes inside. She was the typical 10-year-old who brought home every stray, subscribing to the notion that there was no such thing as too many pets. She still feels that way, what with her own four dogs (three pugs, Esther, Eddie and Stella, and a poodle, Abby), one cat (Oliver) and two budgies (Blueberry and Lemon).

After high school she moved out west and groomed and showed dogs for 20 years -- she has 75 champion Siberian Huskies to her credit. Returning to Ontario, she bought property and came up with the idea of Happy Tails.

She lives (and works) there year-round. Not surprisingly, however, camp is busiest during the dog days of summer, when vacationers at the nearby luxury Deerhurst Resort (which officially recommends Happy Tails to its clients) and other inns and resorts drop their pets off before their own week of golf and sun. Some of those who can't personally drop their pets off can send them on the Happy Tails bus, which travels between Toronto and Huntsville twice a week.

Set up on 22 acres of land, Happy Tails can accommodate a maximum of 55 dogs as day boarders and 25 as overnight campers. In wooden cabins called PUP-tents, "Pawderosa" cabins and "Barking Lot condos," all screened to protect against bug bites, each dog has his own sleeping quarters. There is also a screened, two-tiered verandah that can accommodate up to four cats.

Happy Tails is divided into several areas with strong fencing in between -- and not just to keep felines and canines apart. "Dogs don't necessarily all get along," says Brooks. "You have to be careful. We talk to the owners first, obviously, about their pets' history with other animals. But I also use my own judgment."

If Brooks notices a recurring conflict between two dogs, she moves one to a different area. "I want them to have a good time here. Not be on their guard all the time."

Ditto for cats, though Brooks has never had such a situation with the felines she welcomes. "You know, they're cats. They want to sleep, watch butterflies, scratch things and eat. They're not so difficult as people think."

One thing cats won't do, however, is participate in the activities available. Brooks makes sure, though, that cats don't stay cooped up during their time at Happy Tails. "If their owners agree to it, we'll take them out on a harness for a walk on the grounds."

Dogs, however, have the run of the place, mostly leash-free. The camp's daily recreations are listed as: swimming (on one of the two large ponds on the premises), chasing chipmunks ("we've never had a casualty," adds Brooks, "and the chipmunks enjoy tormenting the dogs"), hiking, playing with buddies, and arts and crafts pawprint painting. The last is the quadruped set's version of finger painting. Dogs run through paint, run across a large piece of paper, and run back again using a different colour. "You know," insists Brooks, "we don't want them taking home terrible artwork!"

Pets can also have their picture taken and made into a postcard to send to their parents. Dogs are sometimes taken on "field trips" by bus to a nearby lake where they can frolic and swim with herons and hawks overhead.

Fun as it sounds, none of the activities is obligatory. This isn't boot camp, and the idea is not to make man's best friend dog-tired.

"We have older dogs here who couldn't keep up with all of that," says Brooks. "If they want to just go on a short walk and then head back to their cabin and nap, that's fine." And age isn't the only factor. Different breeds behave differently, continues Brooks. Border collies want to do everything all the time, while others may want to sit in the sun and reflect.

Rates for the happy campers are $30 a day for dogs, $10 for cats -- regular boarding is $12 and $10 for dogs and cats respectively. The pets' parents must provide their food and any medication they may need. Pets must also be vaccinated, and have a leash and safety harness (for the bus). It is suggested their favourite toys and bedding be sent along as well, to help during those inevitable moments of homesickness.

Finally, a special grooming session can be booked for the last day, to remove all the Muskoka mud and send pets home sparkling clean and spiffy. (Rates for the grooming vary.) Sarah the Irish wolfhound is groomed when her dad shows up. So well-groomed that he makes a quip about not recognizing her. And then he and Sarah are off, but not before promising Brooks that Sarah will be back.

Copyright National Post 2000 All Rights Reserved.

Four-legged clients all in a day's work:
Canada's animal lawyer: Help for dogs whose bite is worse than their bark

Yuppie puppies go to day care

Life with roaches

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