Valencia: a world without words
Little Valencia came into our world late yesterday. One look at her huddled form, and no words were needed to convey she desperately needed care. A little waif of a being whose history was as obscure as her future would have been, had kindness not found her.
The thick build of dried, dark-green scours on the rear end of her emaciated body told us she had been fending for herself way before her time. Way, way before. Her innocent and confused stare into our eyes whispered she did not understand our soothing words, “You’re safe now, you’re at Edgar’s Mission”. But as her body melted into our arms when held, we instantly knew she understood our actions.
And it was not a surrender to fear that caused her to utter that little sigh, but one of relief.
For few words are more true than, “Actions speak louder than words.”
Animals are indeed astute listeners to our body language. If only so our kind could be to theirs. So often humans rush in, with all the very best of intentions, believing their lives need to be fixed, when truly what is needed is for them to be understood.
To understand they are a prey species – and we, to them, a predator.
We do not wait to earn their trust but so often recklessly scare them into submission and think all is well. We are not the saviours of their world, as many tend to cavalierly think we are, but they most certainly are the saviours of ours.
And none more so than farmed animals.
For they sit as the most abused and exploited beings on this planet, and it is because of their vulnerability they have suffered. However, while that vulnerability has brought out the worst of our humanity, it too can bring about the best of it.
And while many patronisingly talk about creating a better world for animals, with politicians even debating this and companies spruiking “free-range”, “organic” and “humane”, such words will have no meaning to abate their injustice, suffering and death.
Only our kindness ever will.
After a night so long it almost forgot to end, we caught some sleep, grabbed a snack and headed on our well-worn track to the barn.
There was no doubt that Berlin’s world was crumbling the day he and his three buddies were surrendered into our care.
With a haunting sadness in their eyes, Gracelyn and Elvira entered our world. And we theirs, as they searched their newfound digs for somewhere to land their gaze.
Lost in a world far, far bigger than himself was little Bahama. But then kindness found him.
Little Kokomo may have been down on his luck the day he was born, finding himself way down in a pile of mirky mud.
Words could not convey our shock when we went to our carpark to collect the little lamb we would soon name Bermuda, who was surrendered into our care after having been found the day before.
More than likely destined for backyard slaughter, the young Cedric ran for his life. And did so for several days in the off-leash dog park to which he had retreated.
Friend or freezer? Without even meeting the colourful chap we have named Tom Cruise, we knew the only role he should ever fill was the first.
At just one day old, teeny tiny Trapper John was diminutive in size yet formidable in impact, and everybody was talking about him.