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Cat Defender

Exposing the Lies and Crimes of Bird Advocates, Wildlife Biologists, the United States Fish and Wildlife Service, PETA, the Humane Society of the United States, Exterminators, Vivisectors, the Scientific Community, Fur Traffickers, Cloners, Breeders, Designer Pet Purveyors, Hoarders, Motorists, the United States Military, and Other Ailurophobes

Thursday, March 12, 2009

Too Cheap and Lazy to Care for Him During His Final Days, Betty Currie Has Socks Killed Off and His Corpse Burned

"I'm miserable, miserable, miserable."
-- Betty Currie

As predicted back in December when news of his failing health was first released to the public, Betty Currie took the cheap and easy way out when she had Bill Clinton's cat, Socks, killed off on February 20th. (See Cat Defender post of December 24, 2008 entitled "Former First Cat Socks Is Gravely Ill with Cancer and Other Assorted Maladies.")

Suffering from cancer of the jaw and not eating, she took him to Three Notch Veterinary Hospital in Hollywood, Maryland, where either David Langford or one of his subalterns did the dirty deed for, of course, a hefty fee. There always has been good money in killing cats but shelters, Animal Control officers, the United States Fish and Wildlife Service, the USDA's Wildlife Services, and birders are not the only cretins on this planet who have lined their pockets at the expense of the species. (See Cat Defender post of March 10, 2009 entitled "Audubons' Dirty Dealings with the Mercenary United States Fish and Wildlife Service Redound to the Detriment of Acorn Woodpeckers.")

"He wouldn't eat for two days," Currie attempted to rationalize her inhumane act for the benefit of Southern Maryland Newspapers on February 25th. (See "Socks Dies After Life of Good Fortune, Fame.") "This morning, when I got up, he didn't get up like he normally would."

Socks thus joins the ranks of Scarlett, Dewey Readmore Books, Colin's, and countless other cats whose international fame was not enough to save them from being killed off by their ungrateful owners once they had become old and sickly. (See Cat Defender posts of October 27, 2008, December 7, 2006, and May 31, 2007 entitled, respectively, "Loved and Admired All Over the World, Feline Heroine Scarlett Is Killed Off by Her Owner after She Becomes Ill," "After Nineteen Years of Service and Companionship, Ingrates at Iowa Library Murder Dewey Readmore Books," and "Port Taranaki Kills Off Its World Famous Seafaring Feline, Colin's, at Age Seventeen.")

For genuine lovers of the species, caring for an ailing cat is not an imposition; au contraire, it is a duty and a sacred honor. Besides, not much is required.

The cat must be brought inside and kept warm and secure. If a halfway decent one is available, a veterinarian should be summoned and an effort undertaken in order to get food and water into the animal.

Around-the-clock attention should be showered on the cat because once it is gone it will not be coming back. No true lover of cats would want their faithful companion to be forced to face the final curtain alone.

Afterwards the cat should be laid to rest in a coffin and given a tombstone. A brief service would be appropriate along with periodic bouquets of flowers on its grave.

Unfortunately, most cat owners are far too cheap and selfish to care for an ailing cat. They will willingly feed, shelter, and medicate it so long as this does not cost them too much of their time and precious shekels but that is about the outer limit of their devotion.

While most individuals would not dare to hasten along a blood relative's "Long Ride on the Dragon," they do not hesitate to do likewise to their cats. The difference between the two cases boils down to the fact that mercy killings are considered to be murder in most jurisdictions whereas killing off unwanted cats is perfectly acceptable behavior everywhere.

"I'm miserable, miserable, miserable," Currie moaned to Southern Maryland Newspapers in the article cited supra. Although it is doubtful that she has much of a conscience, she should be remorseful for abandoning Socks in his hour of greatest need.

Although she had been working for Obama's transition team, it is not known if she is either still affiliated with his Administration or what role her professional ambitions may have played in her unconscionable decision. Most likely in her mindset the only thing that sick cats are fit for is killing. (See photo at the top of the page of her and Socks at home during happier days.)

This line of reasoning is buttressed by Currie's decision to have Socks cremated. She is holding on to one-quarter of his ashes which will be spread along the banks of a creek near her home. Another quarter is going to the Clintons who so shamelessly abandoned him when they hightailed it out of 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue in disgrace in January of 2001. Another portion is going to one of Currie's former co-workers with the final quarter destined to be returned to an unidentified party in Arkansas.

Divvied up and parceled out to friends and supporters like earmarks in Obama's recent stimulus package, Socks is destined to spend eternity being bandied about like some dime store novelty item. His remains could even wind up on e-Bay one day, especially if any of the recipients ever should get into financial difficulties.

Although it could be argued that cremation is a step up in the world from merely tossing out Socks's body with the rubbish, that is not saying very much. He deserved a proper burial, tombstone, and flowers.

As for the very busy and relentlessly ambitious Clintons, they left it to one of their minions at the William J. Clinton Foundation to issue the following terse elegy: "Socks brought much happiness to Chelsea and us over the years, and enjoyment to kids and cat-lovers everywhere."

The statement then went on to thank Currie for taking Socks off of their hands. "We're grateful for those memories, and we especially want to thank our good friend, Betty Currie, for taking such loving care of Socks for so many years."

While the world sans doute has become an incredibly busy place chock-full of all sorts of material comforts and amusements, something fundamental has been lost in the process. The human race's so-called progress has robbed it of its soul and most individuals no longer possess either the inclination or time to think, feel, and empathize with either the animals or their fellow citizens and Currie's shabby treatment of Socks is merely one of a multitude of examples that could be cited of this escalating level of callousness.

In time the sordid details of Socks's demise will fade from consciousness and he will be remembered for the brief time when he was young and ruled the roost at the White House. (See photo above.) Unfortunately, this disgraceful and immoral expedient of killing off elderly and sick cats is destined to outlive even his memory.

On a related note, the London dailies of late have been devoting extensive coverage to the decision made by eighty-year-old Peter Duff and his seventy-year-old spouse, Penelope, to leg it out of this vale of tears on February 27th at the infamous euthanasia clinic known as Dignitas in Zurich. (See photo on the right.)

Duff was a well-known wine merchant from Bath in Somerset and both he and his wife were patrons of the arts. Tragically, each was suffering from terminal cancer.

Like shady banking, Sterbetourismus has become big business in Switzerland with Dignitas charging clients four-thousand euros for the dirty deed itself plus an additional seven-thousand euros for funerals, medical costs, and official fees. As of March of last year, eight-hundred-forty individuals had availed themselves of this service, including an estimated one-hundred English citizens.

Although the firm's motto is "Live with dignity, die with dignity," Paul Clifford, the son of Maxine Coombes who died at Dignitas on January 10, 2007, has accused it of not only gross callousness and cheapness but also of operating out of a flat that is covered in graffiti and reeks of urine. (See the Daily Mail, January 26, 2007, "Swiss Suicide Clinic Like a Backstreet Abortionist's.")

Even more shocking, when Coombes voiced concern over her son's ability to cope with her death an employee of Dignitas generously offered to send him along with her at a cut-rate! No matter how much this issue is rationalized and sugar-coated, the stubborn fact remains that practitioners of euthanasia, like all morticians, are merchants of death who traffic in dead bodies. To put it succinctly, death is not any bargain regardless of the price.

While assisted suicide remains a criminal offense in England, it is highly unlikely that anyone will be charged in the Duffs' demise. Besides, since Dignitas incinerates its victims, that would make holding an inquest rather difficult. (See the Daily Mail, March 7, 2009, "Prince Charles Sends Condolences to Family of Millionaire Couple Who Died at Swiss Euthanasia Clinic.")

As odious as this practice is, it is nonetheless gaining in popularity and various groups around the world are campaigning for its legalization. Should that ever come to fruition, it would open up numerous avenues of abuse and mischief but none quite as alarming as the prospect that one day the right to die could be easily transformed into a duty to die.

"...if euthanasia was (sic) ever legalized in Britain, vulnerable and seriously ill people would come under pressure to end their lives prematurely," a spokesman for Care Not Killing told The Independent on March 6th. (See "British Couple Die in Suicide Pact at Swiss Euthanasia Clinic.")

Under such a scenario, the elderly, sick, redundant, and those who are simply disliked and unpopular would then be no better off than their counterparts in the animal world. The best way therefore to put the kibosh to this ever-growing cult of death would be to outlaw these so-called mercy killings for both animals and humans.

The minimal intrusion upon individual rights that this would entail is more than compensated for by the beneficial effect that it would have on both the animals and the downtrodden. Besides, there is nothing, except a lack of courage, that has ever stood in the way of individuals desiring to take the Roman way out.

Doing away with oneself is, after all, a rather simple affair; an overdose of barbiturates usually will do the job efficiently and painlessly. It is living that is difficult.

Without knowing all the gory details it is difficult to speculate with any degree of accuracy on what may have prompted the Duffs to sneak away to Zurich and end their lives. Nevertheless, it does seem odd that with all their money, family, friends, and varied interests that they gave up so easily. Although they were in obvious pain and without prospects, they still had much to live for even if time was running out fast.

Looking on the bright side, the Duffs at least were free to choose to end their lives; the same cannot be said for Socks and the tens of millions of other cats that are systematically exterminated each year. Consequently, all of these unnecessary killings are nothing more than legalized murder and that disturbing fact will remain unchanged until the day arrives that all cats learn to talk like Hector Munro's Tobermory and request to be killed.

Consequently, all claims of "doing what is best for the animal" and of "not wanting it to suffer" will remain, as they always have been, pure sophistry devoid of both legal and moral significance. Life is indeed cheap and, as the examples of both Socks and the Duffs vividly illustrate, it is growing cheaper by the hour for both animals and humans alike.

Photos: Marietta Van Natta of Southern Maryland Newspapers (Socks and Currie), Los Angeles Times (Socks on the White House lawn), and the Daily Mail and SWNS (the Duffs).