Sharks

What do Harry Potter, Brahmin Priests and Jimmy Buffett have in common?

Sharks.

“Fins to the left. Fins to the Right. And you’re the only bait in town.”

Jimmy Buffet had a point when he compared sharks to the guy at the bar with the creepy pick-up line. Sharks represent the universal fear of those dangers that lurk out of sight –while the creepy guy represents the universal fear of making a really, really bad dating decision. Maybe that is why the name for a group of sharks is “shiver.”

The Great White Shark is the creature most feared by humans. Here’s why. A shark’s favorite prey is anything in a vertical posture making spastic movements. Treading water? There you go.  Thirty percent of the shark’s brain is about scent signals. Scratch your arm on the rocks while boogey-boarding? Sharks can smell your blood from half a mile away. Biggest menace on the coast of California? Nope, not the guy at the bar. Sharks.

And it doesn’t help to know the stories: 300 Persians eaten by sharks when Xerxes’ invasion fleet wrecked off the Greek coast in the fifth century B.C., a delightful fact supplied to us by the great philosopher Herodotus.  Or, the one about the sixteenth- century sailor found completely intact in a shark’s stomach. At that time, sharks were known by the more benevolent name of “sea-dogs,” but I doubt that mattered to either the sailor, or to the two South African surfers eaten—whole—by sharks last year. How about the discovery by a zoologist that the embryos of sand sharks attack each other while in the womb, leaving only the victor to find its way into the birth canal? How did the zoologist discover this? He was attacked and bitten by an embryo while he was dissecting the mother shark. (Although, one might argue in favor of the embryo if someone is dissecting his mother).

In Hawaiian myth, god-like shark-men appear mysteriously on shore and are scorned and ridiculed when they warn beachgoers of sharks in the water. Why would anyone ridicule and ignore a warning from a god-like shark man about sharks? Could this really be a story about respecting the presence of sharks?  

Over 100 million sharks are killed every year in recreational and commercial fishing. The most heinous of this killing is about soup. Soup. Shark’s fin soup is considered a delicacy in China. The sharks are caught and hauled onto the boat, all their fins cut off, tossed back into the sea—alive and completely paralyzed–to sink helplessly to the bottom of the ocean and drown. For soup. Why do humans not show awe and wonder in the presence of the biggest predator on the planet? If we kill—and slurp– them all, will the universal fear of those dangers that lurk out of sight – the fear we humans have projected onto the shark– disappear?

Brahmin priests cast stupefying spells on sharks to protect pearl divers. If a stupefying spell works for Harry Potter and Brahmin priests, perhaps it will also work for the creepy guy at the bar. Let’s be stupefied with awe at these 300-toothed ancient wonders, and leave those fins where they belong- on the left and right of the shark.

Rae Ann Kumelos, Ph.D.  www.voiceoftheanimal.com

Copyright @ 2009 Voice of the Animal.  All Rights Reserved.

Flying Reindeer: Is Rudolph High?

By Rae Ann Kumelos, Ph.D

     You know Dasher and Dancer and Prancer and Vixen, Comet and Cupid, and Donner and Blitzen. But what do you know about that most famous reindeer of all?

     For some, the television appearance of Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer marks the true beginning of the holiday season.  Written in 1964 as a Christmas promotion for the Montgomery Ward department stores, the story of Rudolph and his flying reindeer friends is the longest running special on television. But do you know that behind this beloved stop-motion animated T.V. show is a true story of flying reindeer?

     It makes perfect sense that reindeer would be Santa’s animal of choice. Reindeer live exclusively in the north. Their thick coats and wide feet are perfect for the sub-zero cold of Scandinavia, Russian Europe, and Asia, where 5000 years ago, reindeer were the first large animals to be domesticated. In Greenland, Iceland, Canada, and Alaska, reindeer are wild, and more popularly known as caribou. Reindeer became extinct in Scotland in the tenth century, but somewhere in the psyche of the hearty Scots they were necessary, for they were re-introduced to that country in 1952. Laplanders use reindeer to pull sleighs, and so does the postman in Wales, Alaska.

     For centuries, reindeer herding has been a way of life along the mountain forests of the Russian Mongolian border. Though threatened by economic, governmental, and cultural changes, just as their ancestors did, these northern indigenous people still raise reindeer for packing, riding, and milk. Since female reindeer are the only deer species to grow antlers, the people consider a reindeer-doe the mother of the universe, her antlers a symbol for feminine strength.

     For these northern cultures, Reindeer is revered as a totem power animal, one that can fly through the world of spirit to commune with the high gods. Reindeer is the sacred animal that carries the Arctic shaman to the Otherworld. In fact, the relationship between reindeer and shaman holds special significance for Rudolph and Santa. During mid-winter ceremonies, the shamans of the far north would partake of the hallucinogenic fly agraric mushroom – the bright red mushroom with red spots that we see associated with fairy tales and Christmas decorations –  to achieve an altered state that would allow the shaman to travel into otherworldly realms. In ceremonies held to honor the December 21 winter solstice, the local shaman would enter a yurt through the smoke hole at the top, bringing with him a bag of the colorful mushrooms, departing again through the smoke hole after the festivities. This entry and departure through the ceiling led people to believe the shaman could fly, and since reindeer also consider the hallucinogenic red mushroom a delicious delicacy, they were believed to fly with him.

     Hmmm, a blessed man who carries a bag full of special red and white gifts down a chimney, lives in the far north, and flies with reindeer. Sound familiar?

     In ancient Norse myth, Thor, the god of thunder and lightening (which in old German are donner and blitzen), also lived in the far north and was associated with the color red. Thor fought the gods of snow and ice to conquer cold and bring spring – and he did it while riding in a golden flying chariot pulled by two flying goats, Gnasher and Cracker.

     During this holiday season, when you see a shiny red-nosed Rudolph adorning a lawn, store window, or parade float, remember this reindeer carries in his sleigh a legacy of Arctic shamans, flying goats, and the god of thunder and lightening; certainly reason enough he should go down in history.

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                    (c) 2009 Voice of the Animal  – All Rights Reserved

Thank a Turkey

     Thanksgiving is not Turkey’s favorite holiday.

     On the one hand, he is honored and feted throughout the country: school-children recreate his image with colorful construction paper cut-outs; he enjoys a prominent place in the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade; and he is given a traditional pardon from the President of the United States.

     On the other hand, Turkey is the main feature on the Thanksgiving dinner table.

     In Navajo tradition, Turkey actually enjoys divine status as the representative of agriculture. In the Navajo creation story, as the Navajo people are fleeing from the encroaching flood waters of the fourth world to find refuge and safety in the fifth world, Turkey is the only one to notice the precious seeds that have been stored in pottery jars after the harvest season will be lost to the flood waters. Gathering a few seeds from each jar, Turkey manages to hide the seeds among his feathers. As he hurries to catch up with the others racing to beat the flood waters, he gets some help from Wind pushing from behind, as Turkey dare not fly and risk losing the seeds.  When everyone finally makes it to the safety of the fifth world, all are humbled by the fact that Turkey was the only one who thought to bring the most precious commodity of all—the people’s very means of survival and insurance against famine–seeds.

    Turkeys can run 20 mph and fly up to 55 mph. When Steven Spielberg was making Jurassic Park, he used film of turkeys running as a model for the velociraptors. Observe wild turkeys and you will see an echo of the dinosaurs.

    Miss Clara was my elderly turkey pal on our ranch; whenever I walked outside she came running to see me. Miss Clara’s head was all gray and her feathers a bit bedraggled. But, she was the matriarch of all the turkeys, and every single one of them- boys and girls alike- would step aside and allow her first dibs on their supper of cracked corn. 

     Turkeys are very social and take care of each other. For many months, I watched a group of nine turkeys travel about the ranch. They would wait patiently while one of their party, a small crippled female, followed to catch up. If she got too far behind, one of the turkeys would backtrack to accompany her, and often, several would walk slowly to keep her company. Over time, this turkey could no longer walk, and just sat by the feeder, where her friends sat quietly with her; they even stopped traveling about the ranch. We were able to catch the crippled turkey and take her to the wildlife vet two hours away, a ride in which she sat huddled and frightened in her carrier. When we arrived, we were told she limped because she had been shot in the leg. Despite excellent care, she did not survive to come back home.

     When I think about this sweet turkey, I wonder, would the person who shot her have any interest in knowing the sacred role of turkey in Navajo culture? Did that person have any concept of the courage and fortitude this turkey exhibited as she limped behind her other turkey friends? Could the person understand the compassion her turkey companions displayed in always waiting for her to catch up? And, what would the person have to say to the veterinarian and her assistants regarding the hours spent attempting to heal the turkey’s gunshot wound?

     To this day, Turkey’s feathers are marked with the colors of the seeds he carried in the Navajo beginning of time. When the forefathers of the United States were deciding on a national symbol, Benjamin Franklin lobbied on behalf of Turkey. Instead, we all know Eagle was chosen. But maybe, if more people knew the story of Turkey and the role he played in insuring the survival of agriculture, how honorably turkeys respect their elderly, and how loyal and compassionate turkeys are to each other, they might have chosen Turkey as our national bird, as well as think differently of their Thanksgiving menu.

     During this season of thanks-giving, thank Turkey for his generous role in insuring the survival of the seeds that bring the bounty of harvest gracing your holiday table. Visit Farm Sanctuary’s website www.adoptaturkey.org., where, thanks to your generosity, a turkey will spend her holiday not on a platter atop a table, but with a group of her turkey friends.

Copyright 2009 © Voice of the Animal

All Rights Reserved.

www.voiceoftheanimal.com

Peril on the Sea: The Dogs of Titanic

The vessel was the largest and most luxurious ever built. Twenty-two hundred people booked passage on her maiden voyage west across the Atlantic, and many of those passengers had with them their dogs. Among the many distinctive appointments on this grand floating palace was a statue of Artemis, ancient Greek goddess of the wild and protector of animals. Prominently displayed on the mantle in the first class lounge, the statue of Artemis meant the dogs on board the Titanic had a special goddess looking after them.

As the Titanic set sail from Southampton, England on April 12, 1912, the dogs were a highly visible part of the voyage. Both the dogs and people on Titanic had impressive pedigrees, especially the champion French bulldog, Gamon de Pycombe, and an Airedale named Kitty who belonged to the John Jacob Astors’. While most of the dogs stayed in shiny brand new kennels, newlywed Helen Bishop insisted that she keep her tiny dog, Frou Frou, with her in their first class suite. The promenade deck of the Titanic might not have been so different from a stroll down 5^th Avenue or Rodeo Drive today, as a French artist on board noted, “Many of the obnoxious and ostentatious American women carry tiny dogs around with them and lead their husbands about like pet lambs.”

Every day a crewmember would take the dogs for a stroll about the ship; this canine parade became quite an event. In fact, seven-year old survivor Eva Hart was so enchanted with the presence of the regal Gamon de Pycombe, that she spent the rest of her life surrounded by French bulldogs. The passengers enjoyed the dogs so much, that an informal dog show was scheduled for Monday April 15^th.

But as we know, that show would never take place. When the Titanic struck the iceberg late Sunday evening on April 14^th, more than 1500 people lost their lives, and so did all but two of the dogs: a Pomeranian, and a Pekinese named Sun Yat Sen. The dogs were lucky enough to accompany their people, Margaret Hayes, and Henry Sleeper Harper of Harper Publishing, on one of the first lifeboats. Although Frou  Frou was with Helen Bishop in their cabin, Helen chose to leave her beloved dog on the ship when it became clear there were not enough lifeboats for all the passengers. In a heartbreaking account, Helen described how, as she left her cabin for the last time, Frou Frou  grabbed the hem of her dress, tearing it.

As Titanic sank into the icy Atlantic, a Mr. Norris found himself treading water to stay afloat next to the French bulldog, Gamon de Pycombe. Later, safely aboard the Carpathia, Mr. Norris thought he had imagined the bulldog in the water, until another rescued passenger explained that after the lifeboats were gone, he had made his way to the kennels and released all of the dogs– to spare them the horror of drowning in locked cages.

 In 1986, among the the wreckage of the Titanic strewn about the ocean floor, was found the statue of Artemis.  The goddess known for her protection of animals had accompanied her beloved dogs from the Titanic into the waiting arms of Poseidon, god of the sea.

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Rae Ann Kumelos, Ph.D.  www.voiceoftheanimal.com

 To hear the audio version of this story, please visit www.voiceoftheanimal.com

Copyright (c) 2008 Voice of the Animal. All Rights Reserved.

Tradition and Harp Seals

By Rae Ann Kumelos, Ph.D.

As the early Spring sun glistens on the sea of ice, a baby harp seal softly cries, the sound of the other pups in the seal nursery of snow and ice echoing her own. Her coat is like spun sugar – fluffy and pure white, not yet marked with the distinctive harp sign that distinguishes her parents.  The seal has not yet had her first swim, in these early days of life she can only crawl. Utterly helpless from predators, she stays huddled close to the other seals in the snowy nursery.  As the man approaches, she looks up, liquid brown eyes curious; she has not seen this creature before. As the hooked club crashes into her skull again and again, her last sight on this pristine spring day is that of the other seal pups struggling to crawl away from the dozens of men with weapons, while rivers of red blood run through the crushed ice.

Some might say this is a sentimental view of a five-hundred year-old Springtime tradition, the hunting of baby seals on the Atlantic ice-floes of eastern Canada.  Sentimentality is often the charge leveled at those who speak on behalf of animals, the implication that emotions rather than facts are ruling ones’ actions. But the fact is, these twelve day old pups are babies, they are utterly defenseless. Veterinarians and scientists who have observed the hunt even estimate that 40% of the seals are actually skinned while still alive.   

This spring tradition began in the sixteenth century, when millions of barrels of harp sea oil were shipped from the coast of Newfoundland to light the lamps of Europe. In the nineteenth century, it became fashionable to use the fur of the seals for coats, scarves, and trinkets, the very same way their fur is used today. Over the centuries, hunting caused a drastic reduction in the harp seal population, and images of the helpless seals clubbed to death led to a 1987 halt of the hunt – only for it to begin again in the 1990’s, when various political and industrial fishing powers declared the harp seal responsible for the depletion of cod populations in the North Atlantic.

Although convenient to blame an animal that fossil records indicate have been eating cod for over 20 million years, the facts prove that cod makes up only 3% of the harp seal diet, while numerous studies show the serious decline in North Atlantic cod is due to one thing:  over-fishing. Not by seals, but by man.

Tradition, like sentimentality, is a word that can halt reasonable discussion for change. “Yes, but it is our tradition” is a phrase often used to justify all types of cruel behavior toward animals, be it cockfighting, bull-fighting, or the bludgeoning of harp seals. The word “Tradition” means a time-honored set of practices, the passing down of elements of a culture from generation to generation. There is no morality implied in the word, yet it is often viewed through a lens of black or white – a duality that leads to no solutions, and for the harp seals, is colored only in blood red.

Animal advocate Matthew Scully writes that traditions can “ennoble us or enslave us, leaving human beings a little too comfortable and settled in our ways. Traditions can be changed and replaced with better ways that in time become traditions themselves.”  Scully’s point is important, because global boycotts tied directly to the annual slaughter of the seals cost Canada millions of dollars in lost revenue. Proven alternatives exist to end the slaughter and provide winning formulas for everyone – hunters, fishermen, Canadian people, government, the cod, the global community, and the seals. After five-hundred springs of slaughter, isn’t it time to end the hunt and establish a new tradition on the icy floes of the North Atlantic – one of compassion, humanity, and economic good sense.

To hear an audio version of this essay, please visit us at www.voiceoftheanimal.com

 Copyright (c) 2004-2010. Voice of the Animal. All Rights Reserved.

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How to Measure Your Year in Love

By, Rae Ann Kumelos, Ph.D.

Five- hundred –twenty- five- thousand- six- hundred minutes, how do you measure a year in your life?

That is the question posed in a song from the Broadway musical Rent. In the song, those 525,600 minutes are measured in love. When it concerns animals, does love play into how you measure the minutes of your life?

In the 525,600 minutes of this year, one un-spayed mama kitty and her unsprayed and un-neutered offspring will give birth to 127 cats. 

This year, 13, 665, 600 animals in laboratories will die from having eye-drops, lipstick, drain cleaner, wrinkle injections, and countless other consumer products tested on them. That is 26 animals every single minute of every single day. 

Seventeen million wild animals will be trapped this year for their fur. That means that every day, 46,575 animals- including bobcats, coyotes, red and grey foxes, badgers, mink, beavers, lynx, and wolves, will die in a trap. During the four minutes it will take for you to read this, 130 animals will have died a gruesome and painful death.

This year, five million other animals will also die in those traps. The fur industry calls them ‘trash animals’ because they are not used for their fur, they will just die in a trap and be discarded. These five million ‘trash animals’ will include pets- dogs and cats, as well as  hawks, owls, golden eagles, squirrels,  blue jays, ducks, swans. Will the minutes of your year include buying any garment, pet toy, or trinket with fur?

 In the 1440 minutes of each day, 355 million pigs are slaughtered on factory farms.  These pigs will not experience 525,600 minutes – because they are killed before their first birthday. Since they live their lives in cages so confined they cannot even turn around, they die never knowing the feel of sunshine, or the earth, or the kind voice of a human being. And certainly not love.

 The same thing is true for the 38 million cows and calves that are slaughtered each year on factory farms.  And the 250 million turkeys. And the eight billion chickens. That number of chickens is so high that my calculator would not record it, so I can’t tell you how many chickens are killed while you read this –but it is far more than the minutes in a year.

 These are some of the ways some people spend their precious minutes every year- by supporting and trafficking in pain, despair, greed, and cruelty.

 Yet there are those who spend their minutes with great love for the animals. You can too.  You can help that mama kitty by trapping, spaying and neutering any stray cats and adopting them, or releasing them into safe established cat colonies. Or, you can give money and support to those who already do. www.alleycat.org

 So many great companies employ methods of product testing that do not use animals. Spend the dollars you earned with your minutes worked and buy your eye-drops, lipstick, drain cleaner, and wrinkle injections from these companies. That way when you look in the mirror, you will reflect compassion. www.leapingbunny.org

  Be a considerate and conscious shopper. Choose not to wear fur or leather. Don’t clothe yourself in a garment stitched from despair.

 Consider the horror inflicted on animals in factory farms, and become a vegetarian. You will feel better, look better, and in the words of Leonardo Da Vinci, your body will not be a tomb for another creature.

 This year, won’t you use some of your precious 525,600 minutes to help the animals? Because here is what happens when you spend your minutes with kindness, compassion, and conscious consumerism: for both you and the animals – those minutes grow into a year of love. 

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© 2010 Voice of the Animal   All Rights Reserved

www.voiceoftheanimal.com

Meteror Showers star Animals

     Have you grown a bit weary of watching all those Holly wood stars walk across a red carpet? For a change of pace, step outside, and look up. Tonight, in addition to the meteors of Perseid, you will also see a caravan of animals traveling across the night sky, glittering stars on the galactic equivalent of the red carpet: the Milky Way.

     If we wonder what occupied the minds of our ancestors, we need only look to the night sky, for it is the canvas on which their thoughts and dreams were projected. “As above, so below,” reads the ancient alchemical axiom. This declaration was taken to heart by ancient cultures as an explanation of the mystery and grandeur of the celestial realm, one reason they populated the unfamiliar with the familiar: animals.

     The astronomical term, “zodiac” means “circle of animals.” Of the 12 zodiacal constellations, 7 1/2 are animals: Aries the Ram, the Bull Taurus, Cancer the Crab, the Lion Leo, Scorpius the Scorpion, Capricornus the Goat, and Pisces the Fish. The one-half belongs to Sagittarius the Archer, half-man and half-horse.

     Drawings from Mesopotamia indicate the Zodiacal constellations originated over 5300 years ago. These animals (except Sagittarius!) would have been familiar to the inhabitants of the cultures that gave them their names and  places in the sky of Night.       

      Every night, from ages past to the present, the cosmic canine Sirius, the Dog Star,   loyally follows his master The Great Hunter Orion across the sky. Other animals also surround Orion in the fields of the Milky Way. The hare, Lepus, is at his feet. The Arabs thought of the four bright stars in Lepus as the ‘thirst-slaking camels,’ since they border the waters of the Milky Way. Following Orion is Monoceros, the Unicorn. Since Monoceros is behind him, Orion never sees the unicorn’s approach, for Orion’s gaze is fixed ever westward as he battles the great bull of heaven, Taurus.

     The most famous animal in the night sky is also the most recognizable: The Great Bear, Ursa Major, the constellation surrounding the Big Dipper. The Great Bear was once a beautiful Greek nymph named Callisto, a chaste devotee of the goddess, Artemis. God of the Heavens, Zeus, always one for the pretty ladies, set his roving eye on Callisto, and then had to rescue the nymph from the wrath of Artemis by turning her into a bear and placing her in the night sky, close to the Pole and next to Ursa Minor, the Little Bear. The Greeks called the Great Bear, Arktos, which is where we get the name Arctic for the northern Polar region.

      The tail of the Little Bear is the Pole Star, Polaris,  also know as the North Star, the most fixed point in the heavens and a navigational aid for sailors since antiquity. Draco the Dragon guards the North Celestial Pole, the doorway between time and eternity, the “still point in the turning world.” Since Draco never sets, he is a most vigilant guardian of this threshold to infinity. And in an age that has passed beyond the memory of our time, the stars of the Little Bear were once believed to have outlined another Dragon’s wing. The reindeer, Tarandus, once resided among the Pole stars, but has also passed into the constellations of antiquity. The modern constellation of Camelopardalis, the Giraffe, lies just in back of Polaris, while Lynx, so named because it was believed one must be lynx-eyed to see it, sits to the south of the Great Bear. These animals that dwell around the North Star are visible to us in the northern hemisphere year-round, silent celestial companions awaiting only our acknowledgment of their perpetual presence.

     The importance of the animals that share this planet with us is reflected in our ancestor’s choice to honor them with prominent positions in a star-studded heavenly marquee. In this time of perpetual television award ceremonies, step outside to  pay homage to some true stars, the animals that play a timeless role in our own celestial theater.

Rae Ann Kumelos, Ph.D.    www.voiceoftheanimal.com

Copyright (c) 2004. Voice of the Animal. All rights reserved.

Ants in the house? Lucky you.

What do picnics, patience, and palaces have in common? Ants.

 Ants travel miles to find and take your picnic crumbs back to their anthill. Working together as a team, guided by their queen, they can patiently strip a forest bare. These tiny six-legged creatures are a universal symbol of persistence and determination.

The Hindu god Indra was building a huge palace as a monument to his glory. Disgusted with such folly, the supreme god Vishnu commanded an army of ants, themselves skilled builders, to march through the palace. Embarrassed, Indra realized building a palace just to glorify himself meant becoming an ant in the next lifetime. The lesson? If you were Indra and could do whatever you wished, would you spend your life building a monument to yourself?

Whether building palaces or blazing a trail to your picnic, ants remind us that patient persistence and working for the good of the whole– not just ourselves– will one day bring the success we long for.

Rae Ann Kumelos, Ph.D.  www.voiceoftheanimal.com

Copyright 2009 (c) Voice of the Animal. All rights reserved.

Animals and Flu

Animals and Flu – An Abuse of Breath 

     Swine Flu. These two words are generating panic world-wide as the number of cases of this flu strain increase across the globe. Last year, similar panic ensued with reports of Avian Flu; one major news network even featured a story on bird-flu entitled, “Killer Flu- Only a Breath Away.” The drumbeat of fear– some legitimate, some manufactured to grab viewer attention– is gaining volume as this current strain of influenza travels around the world. 

     Photos of pigs under headlines that read “Killer Swine” result in people terrified of pigs and all pig products. The Egyptian government has ordered the slaughter of every pig in Egypt, over 300,000, even though there are no reported cases of the virus in the country. The National Pork Producers Council is experiencing plummeting sales of pork, and they are lobbying heavily to educate people that direct contact with swine (living or packaged…..) is not the cause of this strain (studies show that the horrific conditions inherent in factory farms are the cause of the outbreak). Lobbying efforts have paid off for the National Pork Producers: this strain of flu now has a new name: N1H1.  But in the minds of the public, the damage to pigs is done. People will now associate pigs with flu, in the same way that headlines like, “Killer Flu: Only a Breath Away,” terrified people of all winged creatures.

    Any illness and death from these viruses is tragic. Yet, is it fair to associate our very breath with a virus that is caused by the improper care of animals by humans?

     The Greek word for soul is psyche, which also translates as breath, a divine breath that animates all living things; that is why many cultures consider birds as a powerful connection to the soul. A bird’s ability to fly high above the earth allows her a unique overall perspective on the events of the human world, one reason that birds were used in ancient cultures to divine the will of the gods.  In Egyptian myth, the soul is represented as a human with the head of a bird. Christian, Greek, and Native traditions embrace the belief that the soul or breath appears in the form of a bird to represent a divine presence (the Holy Spirit even appears as a dove in the New Testament). In addition, the meaning of the word animal comes from anima, meaning air, breath, life, while the word inspiration comes from the Latin word meaning to breathe.

     What does all this etymology mean and what does it have to do with bird flu? If, as both ancient and modern religions maintain, the soul is part of this divine breath, then our very souls have a special relation to the winged creatures that inhabit the element of air: birds.

     These can be considered ethereal concepts when people have died, millions of birds and pigs are being killed, and the possibility of a pandemic is a world-wide threat. But what is essential to remember, is that the underlying cause of avian and swine flu lies not with birds and pigs, but with human beings. Bird flu arose from the unsanitary and horrific conditions surrounding the raising of chickens, turkeys, geese, and ducks for food, conditions that exist not only in China, the Far East, and Europe, but in the United States as well. Reports are surfacing that show Swine Flu originated in the factory farms of Mexico, as the waste from these enormous, automated, industrial complexes contaminate the air and water of the surrounding area. These viruses are not the fault of birds or pigs, but of the humans who are responsible for their care and good health.

     Media and government attention is focused on the symptom of these viruses, the disease itself, while veterinarians, conscious consumers, animal organizations, and scientists are discussing ways to eliminate the cause of bird and swine flu through advocating humane treatment of farmed animals, the closure of factory farms, and enlightened and informed changes in our own diets. These are the steps that will eradicate these viruses and the threat to human lives, steps that will eliminate other diseases (just waiting in the wings) that are certain to arise due to inhumane mistreatment of animals.

     The Latin word for Hell, Averno, means a place without birds. When humans allow chickens, turkeys, ducks, geese, and pigs to be raised in a manner that creates disease, and then choose to kill millions of animals rather than address the root cause of the problem, we are creating our very own hell. “Killer Flu: Only a Breath Away.” Don’t buy it. Instead, use your breath to support and advocate change in the way animals- including birds and pigs– are treated, and you will find it is the inspiration of our animal friends that is only a breath away. 

Rae Ann Kumelos, Ph.D.      www.voiceoftheanimal.com

copyright (c) 2009 Voice of the Animal

All rights reserved.

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