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.
