The killing of Freya

Much has been written about the murder of Freya, the young female walrus who made the fatal mistake of entering Norwegian waters. It has been uplifting to read that many Norwegians absolutely do not support the needless and cruel shooting of an animal that brought joy to so many. The authorities who made the decision to shoot her are callous and should be held accountable. But they won't be. Because this is Norway anno 2022, where no one is held accountable for anything they do. I saw and experienced that often in my former workplace. If you try to get the name of a person 'responsible' for a particular policy, action, or statement, you won't get it. You'll get the names of people in the department that made the decision, yes, but you'll never get to know who actually made the decision to do this or that, in this case, to kill Freya. This is done to 'protect' the person who made the decision from hate mail, threats, and so on. Understandable? Unfortunately, yes, because in our day and age there are so many nutcases that walk the streets looking for someone on whom they can vent their aggression and craziness. But it never had to come to the point of killing Freya, and someone should be held responsible. There were so many other alternatives available, and the authorities settled on the easiest one--pick up a gun and kill the animal(s) causing the problem. That is often the alternative that is chosen in Norway. It is not a nation that opts to learn how to coexist peacefully with wildlife. 

My husband calls me 'dyrenes venn', which translated to English means 'friend of the animals'. He says it affectionately when I tell him about the bumblebees that died in the garden flowers, or the cat that takes a nap in my greenhouse, or the birds that take a communal bath in the birdbath. He knows that my interests lie in preserving life of all kinds to the best of my ability. I am not their literal friend, rather a protector of some sort. I sometimes feel like I am channeling my mother, because she used to behave the same way. That doesn't mean that I am able to prevent them being killed all of the time. I do step on (and kill) ants and other insects, but I don't do it intentionally. Every time I see an ant on a city sidewalk scurrying across the pavement, I step around it because I know that it's on its way home to the anthill after a busy day. Not so different from us humans. My garden has revealed the connection to all life that exists, no matter how small and insignificant, from the tiny ants to the larger brown slugs (which the garden board would like us to kill but which I cannot bring myself to do any longer), to the large crows and magpies that frequent the garden. I have a particular fondness for the light brown spiders that scurry around on the greenhouse floor when I disturb them in my hunt for a rake or other tool. They are harmless, more afraid of me than I ever could be of them (I'm not afraid of them). My husband likes spiders as well; he does not kill them and actually welcomes them in his boat because they do the job they were put here on earth to do and don't bother anyone. Even yellow jackets, as annoying as they are, have a job to do. I'm not always sure what it is, but I am not interested in killing them for no reason. And that is the crux of the matter--killing any living thing for no reason is just plain wrong. Doing so places you in the realm of the psychopaths. 

Reverence for life. I have that reverence and perhaps have always had it, but it is full-on now, I think because I am getting older. Our lives and the lives around us--human and animal alike--are short. It makes no sense to end lives needlessly. It's just cruel and shows that we lack empathy for living beings of all kinds. In that respect, I am beginning to consider the use of animals for food. We still eat meat, but much less than we used to, because I see that animals suffer at our hands in the meat industry. I saw that last summer when we stayed at a historic hotel that also raised chickens 'humanely', as the owners proclaimed. I didn't think the conditions for the little chicks were so humane; thousands of them were packed into a huge sunless garage with small windows, and fed and watered there. They never roamed outdoors, never felt the sun on their bodies, never foraged for insects and food on their own. I thought that if this was humane treatment, what does inhumane treatment look like? Perhaps I don't want to know. 

I want to live in a world that doesn't kill beings like Freya, who seemed to like being around humans. Whenever we establish any sort of bond with animals, birds, and insects, we are responsible for how we treat them. That means that we should not pursue those bonds if we are not willing to step up to the plate to protect the beings in question. It means that we don't encourage dangerous wildlife to become human-friendly. It means that we do not kill them unless our lives are actually threatened by them in a one-on-one confrontation as sometimes happens. I am not advocating for the anthropomorphization of animals (attributing human characteristics or behavior to an animal). I am simply saying that learning to coexist with them is the best policy. Let them go about their business as we go about ours. 

Freya's needless death, her murder, has been news now for the past few days. The media will move on from her and her death will be forgotten or relegated to the back burner in the relentless quest for more important stories. But I will not forget her, nor will I forget how Norway treated her. The way a country treats animals has a lot to say about the country. The lack of empathy for Freya tells me all I need to know. 

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I'm adding a postscript to this article, an update as to what the authorities have done with the body of Freya. They transported her body from Sandvika harbor to Ås, where the veterinary institute on the Ås university campus autopsied her. The distance from Sandvika to Ås is about 26 miles. God knows when and how they transported her; no one even knows at what time they shot her. Transport probably happened at night when no one was around to protest. That would be appropriately cowardly for these types of authorities. So to be completely clear: they had the money to move her dead body 26 miles so that she could be autopsied, but not the money to sedate her and to move her further out to sea, which probably would have cost far less. They took the easy way out as I wrote in my previous post about Freya. I hope their consciences plague them for the rest of their lives. 

An endless source of amusement

Oslo has become a city of dog owners. Whenever I am out walking, there are always people out walking their dogs. It has become a common sight. We have pooper-scooper laws, thank God, and most dog owners abide by them. I watch the dogs with their owners sometimes; the owners carry treats when they are training them, and it's funny to watch how the dogs respond to training. I also smile or laugh when I see dogs tugging at their leashes, barking at their owners to throw the ball or stick at hand, or trying to retrieve a ball that has floated out onto the small waterways with small falls that run down from Kiellands plass. You can see dogs of all kinds--dachshunds, chihuahuas, Russian wolfhounds, whippets, Welsh corgis, Jack Russell terriers, small and large poodles, bulldogs, German shepherds--the list is long. I like all the breeds but my preference runs to dachshunds, Russian wolfhounds and Jack Russell terriers. Even though most people in Oslo live in apartments, they still own dogs so it must be working out, living together in close quarters with their dogs. I'm on the fence about getting a dog; they are more work than cats because you need to walk them and keep them active. Cats are more solitary and will activate themselves, although if you invest the time, they can almost behave like dogs when it comes to retrieving and playing with toys. Our cat loved to run after catnip drops that we skidded along the floor to her; she played with them (and olives) before eating them. She also loved to chase my husband around the apartment; she would 'get her fur up' so to speak and then find him in the living room so that he could chase her. It was very funny to watch them play together. 

I notice all animal, bird, and insect life now. When I am in the garden, I watch the birds fly to and fro between the different trees and bushes. They enjoy taking full baths in the birdbath, and then they find a patch of dry sandy earth to roll around in. I wonder why this sequence is not reversed, first a sand bath and then a water bath. There are a lot of sparrows in the garden, and they chatter among themselves, sometimes quarreling, other times happily chirping to each other. The garden is a haven for them as well as for magpies, crows, brown and black thrushes, wagtails, and ring-necked doves. The latter have increased in number during the past few years in Oslo. Sometimes local cats wander through the garden; they are often hounded out of the garden by the crows and magpies. But they still come back from time to time. One of the cats, the one who has taken a nap in my greenhouse, likes to drink water from the birdbath; the water can be dirty or clean, it doesn't seem to matter to him. Likewise for the honeybees, who don't seem to mind at all that the water is dirty. Nature. It will leave you in awe, and it will also make you laugh out loud. I'm grateful that I have the time now during the day to appreciate all of it. 

Reflections on the great divide

This is not going to be a political post, even though the title may sound like one. Rather, it is a post about my reflections on the great divide between humanity and nature and how that came to be. I've been thinking about this since I watched My Octopus Teacher last night on Netflix. 

We learned from when we were very young that humanity has been given dominion over the animal kingdom. The Bible states (in Genesis 1:26) that God said, 'Let us make man in our image, according to our likeness; and let them have dominion over the fish of the sea, and over the birds of the air, and over all the wild animals of the earth, and over every creeping thing that creeps upon the earth.' The question is of course what was originally meant by dominion, and what it means in our modern age.

I think that up through the centuries we have managed to twist the word dominion into domination, which has many more negative connotations. That is a reflection on how the word 'dominate' has been used. If mankind dominates, then what is dominated is subject to the whims and mercy of the dominator. Domination can imply cruelty in order to keep what is dominated in line. It most definitely implies the exercise of power over what is dominated, in this case, the creatures of the earth. It does not necessarily imply respect or kindness. I cannot think of one instance where I have heard the word domination and thought about the implications of domination as positive. I prefer the word dominion, because it implies a world where mankind reigns together with nature, in partnership. I think of the word realm, where mankind and animals can exist side by side. Humans can be the stewards of this realm; the role of a steward is to supervise or to take care of. I like that idea very much because the implications of stewardship are not negative, at least not at first glance. 

But how did we get to the great divide between humanity and the animal kingdom? Is that the result of mankind's fall from grace? If we accept the idea that humans were originally formed in the image and likeness of God, then they were free from sin. They lived happily and blissfully in paradise, which was a garden, the Garden of Eden. What did they need for survival? Probably very little. Did they know death? Probably not. But then something happened to change that. Their life in the Garden went from sinless to blemished. If there were animals and birds and sea life in that garden, and apparently there were according to Genesis, then the perfect relationship with them as companions and as possible providers of some types of food (milk, honey) was also changed, for the worse. Rather than existing side by side in a harmonious relationship, discord set in. I doubt that it was ever the divine intention that mankind should dominate the animal kingdom, should abuse animals, should exert power over them in a cruel way. That is not the way of God. And yet every day, that abuse of power happens somewhere in the world. We treat animals and birds better than we did a century ago, at least in terms of being less 'cruel' where meat production is concerned, but we still have a long way to go, and the question really becomes how to live our lives without being cruel to any other living creature. Of course we must then face the reality of meat consumption and how to tackle that. We overfish the oceans, we imprison fish in circular tanks in the name of fish farming and tell ourselves that they are thriving, we squeeze chickens into cramped quarters (likewise hens for their eggs) and tell ourselves that they don't know any better anyway, we pump livestock (and fish) full of antibiotics and tell ourselves that we're doing it to protect them and us. Someone came up with these ideas and introduced them into meat production and fish farming. The intentions might have originally been good, but at this point it's hard to know for sure. Additionally, we are destroying the habitats for many animals, birds, insects and sea life through deforestation, pollution, and other practices. 

I don't pretend to have any answers. We must simply try to do better each day, each week, each month, each year. But when I watch films like My Octopus Teacher, I realize that I have been given a glimpse of how conditions might have been before mankind's fall from grace, how it all might have been had mankind maintained its peaceful co-existence with animals and birds and sea life. The fact that the octopus trusted the human who visited her each day, and even showed him (unsolicited) affection, has no precedent in my world at least. We are talking about an aquatic creature that had probably never seen a human before. It made the decision to establish physical contact with the man. It trusted him and did so for the year that he visited her. That is probably what paradise would have been like; additionally there would have been no sickness or death. I like to think so at least. If there is a heaven, I can imagine that all of the animals, birds, insects, sea life--all the creatures that we have loved, crossed paths with or had some kind of relationship with (e.g. bees and birds in a garden) are there to greet us and to accompany us as companions in our new life. In fact, if I think about what heaven might actually be, it is a garden, always a garden, filled with flowers, fruit, vegetables, birds, bees, insects and animals of all kinds. But there would have to be a place for octopuses too, after having seen My Octopus Teacher. 

Rest in peace, Pedals the Bear

If it is true that this beautiful disabled bear is dead (http://www.sciencealert.com/pedals-the-famed-upright-walking-bear-has-died-officials-report; http://www.npr.org/sections/thetwo-way/2016/10/18/498398167/internet-mourns-apparent-death-of-pedals-a-real-stand-up-bear), then it is merely one more confirmation that the world is a cruel barbaric place, one that is slowly descending toward hell. I only hope that the New Jersey hunter who killed this bear has a karmic experience that shows him just what he has done. I don’t want to be there when he experiences it, because it won’t be pleasant. Frankly speaking, the man who did this is a loser, a coward, not someone you’d want to befriend or help in any way. Someone who has grown up in a household that did not value life, humanity, compassion, empathy or decency. Someone who will pass, if he hasn’t already, his cruelty and his warped mind on to his children. If it’s true that he did kill this bear to give his wife a bear rug or a bear coat, then his wife is as devoid of humanity as he is. They deserve each other and can rot in hell, together with all the other brave ‘hunters’ who hunt for sport, for fun and for no reason other than to put the heads of animals and birds on their den walls. Trophy hunters--scum of the earth. Together with the bullfighters, the dogfight arrangers, and any other person, man or woman, who torture and kill animals for sport. Rot in hell. I can just about tolerate hunters who hunt to place food on their tables in some occasional instances, but in spoiled, overfed and obese countries like the USA, where is the need to hunt for food? Give me one good example. 

The world is full of sick people, and sometimes it seems as though they are winning. It’s no wonder that I am coming to prefer the company of animals and birds to the company of people. They’re preferable to people like these jerks. The only thing I have in common with any of these so-called ‘people’ is that we were born human. I am ashamed to say that I am human when I think of these cowardly losers. I don’t want to be placed in the same group as them. Assholes like the hunter who killed Cecil the lion, or the poachers who maim elephants for their tusks, or the fishermen who cut the fins off sharks and throw them back into the water, still alive, where they sink to the bottom to await their fate (eaten by other fish). Or what about the dolphin clubbing that goes on in Japan (http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-2542611/Captive-dolphins-killed-one-one-Japanese-bloodbath-festival.html); can someone explain the point of this horror? Or whale and seal hunting (http://www.abc.net.au/news/2014-12-13/norway's-commercial-seal-hunters-lose-government-subsidy/5965310), which Norway also participates in? There are indications that seal hunting will soon be coming to an end in Norway; it’s high time.

All of these atrocities me sick. Where is the humanity in all of these 'people'? There is none. They are dead inside. 

(photo from https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Mk-HHyGRSRw) 

How a baby hedgehog stole my heart

Who would have thought that I could lose my heart to a little baby hedgehog? To be honest, I had never seen a hedgehog before last Thursday evening. I had heard of them, but they were mostly small creatures who populated children’s books; The Tale of Mrs. Tiggy-Winkle in the book by Beatrix Potter comes to mind. Beatrix Potter used her pet hedgehog Tiggy-Winkle as inspiration for her story. It is so coincidental that we were just in Beatrix Potter country—England’s Lake District--on vacation. Last Thursday evening we found an adorable baby hedgehog (pinnsvin in Norwegian) on our way home from the boat, either abandoned by its mother or perhaps mother and baby got separated by accident. It was struggling to survive, so we took her home, washed her and fed her with some sugar water, after talking to the hedgehog experts at Pinnsvinhjelpen.no. They suggested we feed her cat food, egg yolk mixed with sugar water, and lactose-free heavy cream, and emphasized that she needed to be kept warm during the night. So we followed their advice and the following morning (Friday) she was awake and hungry. A visit to Jette at Pinnsvinhjelpen in Ski on Saturday afternoon was very productive; she gave us dry cat food (among other useful items) that she told us to mix with hot water so that it got mushy. She was certain that Hedgie (the name we gave the little hedgehog) would love this mix, and she was so right. Hedgie not only liked to eat this, but she ‘anointed’ herself with small bits of it; self-anointing is a hedgehog behavior that is not well understood. Hedgehogs will place small bits of chewed food on their backs; possible explanations are that this is a way of perfuming themselves, or that they like the taste of something new and this is a way of acknowledging that. Whatever the reason, it is humorous to watch them do this, and I filmed her doing this while she ate her cat food mush (http://youtu.be/kPgHYgTCdwA).

I wasn’t prepared for how attached I got to this little creature. She stole my heart with her wobbly gait, desire to be held, desire to snuggle and to burrow into the crook of your arm, how she would fall asleep in your hand, her cute little face, her trusting nature, her sweetness, her wild scent. Mealtimes were a treat—just to watch her tramp around in the cat food mush and then afterwards to dip her in lukewarm water to wash off most of what was stuck to her. She was with us until Sunday afternoon, at which time we drove her to her new home, a farm in southwest Norway, where her new family lives. Here there will be a garden for Hedgie to wander around in eventually, and possibly there will be other hedgehogs to join her at some point. Perhaps Hedgie will become a mother herself one day. That would be a good thing, since these little creatures are on the endangered species list here in Norway, and are now protected by law. It is possible to keep them as indoor pets, but it would not be fair to them. In our case, we would not be able to offer her a garden or even a terrace, and that would not be best for her. But how I wanted to keep her.

It’s not surprising that I’d never seen a hedgehog before; they are not native to the Americas. And even though hedgehogs have thousands of spines on their backs like porcupines, they are not related to them at all. They have more in common with shrews according to what I’ve read online. Hedgehogs are omnivorous, meaning that they will eat berries and melon as well as insects, snails (e.g. the brown snails that infest many of the gardens in east Norway) and frogs. They can live for up to seven years. They are nocturnal animals; born blind, their eyes will open fully at around four weeks. Hedgie was about three weeks old when we found her, so she would open her eyes briefly from time to time. She weighed 100 grams last Thursday; her new family just informed me that her weight is up to 105 grams, a good sign. She is eating and she is happy. And that makes me happy, even though yesterday when we came home to an empty apartment—without Hedgie—I was not at all happy. I missed her incredibly. I’m posting some photos of her; it won’t take you long to figure out why I lost my heart to her.