Right now, under my windows, there is about half a pot of boiled spaghetti with some kind of sauce. Right on the lawn. Guess why? These are my neighbors feeding the pigeons.
I have a large classic yard with a playground in the center. Many parents with children walk there every day. A few days ago there was such a scene. Mom taught her three-year-old son how to properly shake out half a pack of potato chips on the pavement. Birdies. The child understood everything well and qualitatively shook out the chips on the track.
Every day, while I walk from home to the subway, I try not to step on bread crusts, and sometimes straight loaves (honestly, the other day two large Uzbek cakes were lying under my feet), with which kind people strewed everything around. For pigeons, of course.
I leave the yard littered with leftovers, walk down the street to the underpass. Next to it is a nice square, where many sparrows live in the bushes. In front of the bushes is an incomprehensible white pile. The next day, a bunch remains. And two days later. Eventually, on the third day, I get curious and move closer to see what it is. It turns out that this is about a kilogram of rice. Judging by my many-day observations, sparrows do not eat rice.
I give you my word of honor, I do not invent or exaggerate anything. I don’t even write about cats right away. About local cats. Four of them live in the basement of my house. Every day, jars of canned fish, boxes from Doshirak with herring heads and plastic lids from some other container with chicken bones are put up for them at the entrances. Where do you think the jars and lids go? That’s right, they stand where they were placed. That is, practically at each of the 13 entrances, and also at the basement windows, and behind the house there is always all sorts of dirty food packaging, which should be in the trash.
Personally, I love animals and birds. But I don’t like swine.
Please note, now I am only writing about feeding animals in the yards. Not about how dog breeders do not clean up after their pets, and then you walk down the street like through a minefield. This is a different story. And not about those citizens who litter playgrounds with beer bottles, seed husks and cigarette butts. Of course, all this is also disgusting and outrageous. But now I’m only talking about those who love to feed the animals.
My mother also loves animals very much. She feeds stray cats. Mom lives abroad. Perhaps that is why her neighbors do not like it when her mother throws chicken wings, legs, and sometimes meat specially bought for them out of the window for cats. She thinks that her neighbors are cruel and callous people. But just in case, she denies that she ever threw something out of the window. Because he still understands that by his actions he breeds unsanitary conditions around his own house.
Her house can always be recognized among other houses in the microdistrict in which she lives. This is a house where a lot of cats sit under the windows with their heads up, waiting for a chicken leg. The story of mom and cats has become almost a parable about the fact that we always need to think about the consequences of our actions.
Mom sincerely believes that by feeding these homeless cats, she thereby saves them. Although the cats are not at all thin, she feeds them three times a day. As you understand, he throws them meat in different forms. Since cats are not objectively starving, some of the meat is left untouched on the lawn. The town in which she lives is located almost in the desert. At night, jackals come from the desert and howl under her windows. They come every night, because under the windows there is always an abundance of meat (and cats). Neighbors argue with mom not only because of cats: they believe that she feeds jackals.
Math problem: how many people does it take for four cats to become pets?
In general, these jackals have greatly reduced the number of cats as a result. But it all began, it would seem, with the rescue of cats. Moral: Are we really doing good to homeless animals, as we ourselves think?
Of course, jackals will not come to my Moscow courtyard. But I know for sure that the basement cats would be much better off if they weren’t given endless jars of canned food, but taken home, vaccinated against street infections, washed, cured and fed to their health until the cat’s old age.
My cat, for example, came to me four years ago just like that. All the neighbors fed him, but it never occurred to anyone that he could be made home. Now he is mine, and, I must say, he turned out to be the coolest of all the cats I know. I repeat, my house consists of 13 entrances, in total there are 220 apartments in it. And only four basement cats. Math problem: How many people does it take for these four cats to become pets?
And by the way, about the birds. Instead of turning your own yard into a dump, you can use a simple alternative: buy or make feeders. But not from juice or milk bags — this is the same garbage, only hung on trees! Or does it require too much effort from a person who is used to throwing food at his feet?
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