Experience is another thing: professional and amateur fishermen are an important piece in the saving or taking the life of a marine turtle. Last February, three businessmen saved a leatherback turtle (Dermochelys coriacea) from death in Florianopolis. They were fishing in a motorboat when they saw one of these animals dragging a bunch of tangled up nylon wires—probably from some fishing cable, which is one of the greatest threats to this species. The fishing wire could end up cutting off one of its fins.
Fishing with nets and longlines is extremely harmful to turtles because they capture these animals and may make them drown to death. According to TAMAR, a project created in 1980 to protect marine turtles, the solution to these problems lies exactly in the collaboration between fishermen and the Project to develop solutions that are not only viable but that also do not hinder the fishing industry. Using technology to develop less predatory fishing tools is one example of how this situation can be solved. In fact, it has already resulted in a new and less harmful type of fishing hook that rarely captures sea turtles (Tamar).
Take a look at this video about the Tamar project and see how they have been carrying out their work. Image: Tamar Newsletter
Birds have sown a gigantic sunflower on my porch. It grew up beautiful, strong, vigorous, and got over one meter tall. Two months later, a bud came out and I started to get up earlier and go straight to the window in the hopes that the magic would be done and the flower would have blossomed, revealing its sunny core. One day, it happened: I got up and was greeted by a flower the size of a dessert plate. That was three weeks ago.
Since then, I’ve cared for this plant as if it were a baby, but the flower is dying—and I’m dying of sorrow. I talked to a gardener and he explained to me that plants have a different lifecycle. Some live a short life, like herbs and vegetables in general: even if you devote a great deal of care to a head of lettuce, it will grow, generate a flower, release its seeds and die within less than six months. This is their nature. Trees, on the other hand have a longer lifecycle, but even a jequitiba tree will die, eventually.
Sunflowers live from four to six months, depending on the species. “No matter how much you water or fertilize them or fluff up their soil, as their lifecycle gets nearer the end they will slowly die,” told me Mr. Juareis. This will be the faith of my bird-sown sunflower.
Ever since he told me this, I’m making sure the plant makes the most of its last days. Instead of cutting off the dead flower, I’m letting the plant decide when it will do it. I’m doing this because it is when the flower fades away and loses its beauty that a secret chemistry happens in its core: it prepares its descendants— the dozens of seeds it will release onto the ground and which birds will sow around.
But if I know all of this, why do I feel like a little light is dying inside me, day after day?
For some time now, I’ve been warming up to the idea of only writing about animals and plants. I’ve always believed that those who like animals also enjoy flowers—even though they might find it hard to take care of one or the other, or both.
Having become an expert in raising cats (I have 43 on my resume) and having explored the cultivation of plants (I have 88 potted plants at home, a number that grows by the day), I can say that I’ve learned a few tricks.
Throw a slipcover on your sofa in order for animals and humans to live in harmony. Put a papaya on your window sill to attract thrushes. Spray water mixed with cloves on your garden to keep the dogs away. Sprinkle salt on your flowerbeds and get rid of snails. In the summer, water your Jaboticaba tree every day to get sweeter fruits. And be patient with orchids because one day they’ll start liking you and give you beautiful flowers.
These and other tricks are available on the newly launched Whiskers, Snouts and Roots blog. It was supposed to be named Whiskers, Snouts, Roots, Antennae, Paws, Feathers, Furs, Horns, Leaves, Flowers and Roots, but the marketing people said I was having delusions of grandeur and asked me to go a little less crazy.
Since I am a little disobedient, I warn you that this will be the coolest blog on animals and plants that I have ever written. And if that is not enough to convince you to check it out, let me tell you that Whiskers, Snouts and Roots, will have promotions for books, products, and related items for chlorophyll, feather or four paw-bearing species.
Check it out, will you?
It took Grafite less than three minutes to destroy what it had taken me three weeks to create. I woke up at 3:47 in the morning to the unmistakable sound of his scratch echoing down the empty hall. I got up ready to commit a cat-icide.
— GRAFITE!!! Do not scratch the door! Mommy is sleeping, RONNNNC, ya hear? Sleep-ing! I mean, was, before you tore down the door. Do you see this? I spent sleepless nights designing this so that you WOULDN’T scratch the door! So, how about doing your part, huh? Do not scratch the door, Grafite!
My anti-scratch strategy was to devise a gadget that consisted of a hen-house wire fence attached to a little wooden frame. I went for the most discreet size possible, in order to prevent the gadget from becoming too heavy. After all, I would have to set it up and take it down from the door every day. Everything was perfect. But, to avoid damaging the doorpost too much, I only placed two little fixing hooks to the upper part of the frame, in the hopes that Grafite would understand that I clearly didn’t want him to scratch the door.
The problem is that cats are cunning. They learn fast, much faster than dogs—but they only do what they want to do. And Grafite wants mom to pet him in the middle of the night. It’s as simple as that. So, he used his paws to pull the bottom part of the fencing down, eased himself between the frame and the doorpost, raised his arms and scratched the door obstinately until I got up.
— ENOUGH!!! How can mommy sleep, Grafite?!? You are going to wake up the whole house! Stop scratching now! Don’t you see the fencing? It means do not scratch! No, do you understand? Go sleep with your brothers and let me rest!
I put a weight in each of the lower corners of the frame—they would have to do until morning when I could use the electric drill to fix two more supporting hooks. I went back to my room and laid down praying for sleep to come quickly. I dreamt that I was riding a lilac winged horse. The wind swept through my hair going róc, róc, róc… RÓC?!?
I’m gonna kill that cat.
Made of wavy recyclable cardboard, this set of boxes is an amusement park for ecologic cats. This condo is interconnected by an opening in the middle box which allows its dwellers to visit other residents. If your cat is on the heavy side, like Garfield, don’t worry because these boxes are made of double cardboard sheets and are very resistant. The paint used on the boxes is soy-based, non-toxic paint.
Each one costs US$29.95, at Caboodle Cats.
Tip from MirrowAlice.
<!– /* Font Definitions */ @font-face {font-family:Calibri; mso-font-alt:”Times New Roman”; mso-font-charset:0; mso-generic-font-family:auto; mso-font-pitch:auto; mso-font-signature:0 0 0 0 0 0;} /* Style Definitions */ p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal {mso-style-parent:”"; margin-top:0cm; margin-right:5.65pt; margin-bottom:0cm; margin-left:5.65pt; margin-bottom:.0001pt; text-align:right; line-height:115%; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:11.0pt; font-family:Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family:Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family:”Times New Roman”; mso-fareast-language:EN-US;} @page Section1 {size:612.0pt 792.0pt; margin:70.85pt 3.0cm 70.85pt 3.0cm; mso-header-margin:36.0pt; mso-footer-margin:36.0pt; mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 {page:Section1;} –> Read this post at Rodrigo Barba’s Blog: An ecological condo for cats
– Carol, what’s that little package in the fridge?
– Hmmm…
– Carol?
– I’m out here!
– What are you doing there on the floor?
– Getting Tak’s lunch.
– Whose???
– Eustáquio’s.
– Eustáquio?
– Yep. What did you ask?
– There’s a package in the fridge…
– Don’t touch his food!
– Food? But it’s a very small package…. What’s in it? Peas?
– Well, I wish it was… But I’m the only vegetarian in this house.
– Carol, I’m sorry, but what’s that that you’re doing?
– Getting Estáquio’s lunch, Val. It’s hard. They escape from me. And I don’t want to kill anyone. He needs them alive. But, because he’s too small, he can’t eat them fast and the meal escapes. Because of that I put one in the fridge, to let it a little groggy. It’s almost as if it was put under. This way it’s less cruel.
– There are ants in the fridge?!?!?
– Just one, Vale. Don’t panic, I closed the package really well.
– There’s a living ant in the fridge?
– Asleep.
– I never worked for someone that kept living ants in packages in the fridge to feed a carnivorous plant!
– There’s always a first time …
– I want a raise.
PS: After a long and gloomy winter sponsored by Net, I’m back, missing you!
Read the original post in Portuguese (Guindaste Blog): O almoço.
(Deforestation moves 12 mil km2 forward in Amazon. / The water is coming over us. You stay, you die.)
Saturday headlines. And they are related, yes, sir.
And Santa Catarina’s pets also need our help.
Via Contraditorium:
ItajaĂ
The appeal of the NGO Viva Bicho makes us notice that the animals can’t ask for help and can’t help each other by themselves. A lot of them are isolated, without food, with fear, cold and expecting help. Surviving dogs and cats wander around the streets in search of their families and food.
There’s an appeal for all dwellers to try to feed the animals in the street.
There’s no pet food available to buy in the town, so it’s necessary to send from other places.
Any donation will revert in the immediate help to rescue and treat the surviving animals.
Contact: Bianca - Ong Viva Bicho - (47) 8425-1459 / 9903-5441
Banco do Brasil
Ag. 1489-3 cc 20793-4
Associação Viva Bicho
CNPJ 06 156 776 / 0001 - 81
Blumenau
As APRABLU – Animals from Blumenal Protective Association informs, there are lots of isolated animals and missing animals around the city and the NGO asks for the dwellers to try to feed and comfort the animals they find. The association asks, with urgency, donations to buy medicine, food, to improve hostage conditions, buy ropes and jars.
Contact for donation:
e-mail: aprablu@terra. com.br (Bárbara)
Caixa Econômica Federal (ou lotéricas)
Ag.411
Op. 013
C/C 187-5
Simone Ruth Stoltz
FlorianĂłpolis
Less hit than the interior cities, the capital of Santa Catarina, by means of GAE Floripa and É o Bicho members, organize the sending of pet food stock to ItajaĂ, counting on a way of transporting it on Saturday.
Contacto to support with donations:
e-mail: ordepdarc (@) gmail.com (Pedro)
Via Gatoca:
FlorianĂłpolis
Centro de Zoonoses de FlorianĂłpolis
send to: Coordenadoria do Bem-estar Animal (Coobea)
End.: Vila Ivan Matos, ao lado do Cemitério do Itacorubi
Itacorubi - Florianópolis – Santa Catarina – CEP 88032-005
Deliver hours: 8 to 18h
Contact: Maria da Graça Dutra
Phones: (48) 3234-5677/ 9619-8878/ 9114-2537/ 9977-0342
E-mail: bemestaranimal (@) pmf.sc.gov.br
Site: www.pmf.sc.gov.br/bemestaranimal
Blumenau
APRABLU - Associação Protetora de Animais de Blumenau
Contact: Bárbara
e-mail: aprablu (@) terra.com.br
Caixa Econômica Federal (ou lotéricas)
AgĂŞncia:.411
Op. 013
Conta Corrente: 187-5
Simone Ruth Stoltz
Site: www.aprablu.com.br
Itapema
ONG Amigo Bicho
Contact: Rosele Fatima Perozzo
(47) 3368-4758
Banco do Brasil
AgĂŞncia: 3164-x
Conta Corrente: 7525740-8
Site: fotolog.terra.com.br/aamigofiel
ItajaĂ
ONG Viva Bicho
Contact: Bianca
e-mail: vivabichobc (@) yahoo.com.br
(47) 8425-1459 / 9903-5441
Banco do Brasil
AgĂŞncia: 1489-3
Conta Corrente: 20793-4
Associação Viva Bicho CNPJ 06 156 776 / 0001 – 81
Site: www.vivabicho.org.br
Joinville
ONG Abrigo Animal
e-mail: contato (@) abrigoanimal.org.br
(47) 3416-0734
Bradesco
AgĂŞncia: 2150-4
Conta Corrente: 20445-5
Site: www.abrigoanimal.org.br
Are you dying to adopt a pet, but don’t have the space or time to take care of it and, worst, your son is allergic? No problem at all. If you can’t have a cat or a dog close by, stay close to them, at least in your heart: adopt one virtually.
There are lots of ways of being responsible for one of the million abandoned cats and dogs. You can act as a godfather to one of them and deposit an amount, periodically, in order to have a NGO or a volunteer maintaining it healthy and happy. It is also possible to donate pet food, pet beds and medicine that the moustaches and snouts need to be ok.
There’s an easier way of making difference to those guys. You only have to go to one of the various “garage sales” that the NGOs of adoption organize in the end of the year and buy something. This Sunday (11/30), there’s the meeting of Adote um Gatinho (Adopt a little cat), one of the most serious and committed entities with the rescue and care of cats (and sometimes dogs!) dumped on the streets.
I’ll be there from 15h to 18h. The Bazar de Natal da Adote um Gatinho, will be on Desembargador Ferreira França, 40, in the parties saloon, of the block B (really close to the Pôr-do-Sol square, in Pinheiros, São Paulo, Brazil). Maybe we can meet?
Ketchup and Mustard have always been very close. First born from a birth of five females, the two cats were practically identical in their fur, so spotted that we could barely distinguish the spots. Ketchup was blonder, Mustard was browner. Them both were sweet and warm, the true liquid-cats, of those kinds that sprawl in a single caress.
Because of some genetic problem, Mustard’s clutches were smaller and smaller. Days before labor, exploding of fatness, the cats disappeared of our sights. They loved to give birth in the dark of the quilts closet, for my grandmother’s despair. Ketchup was always the first, followed, three or four days later, by her sister.
We used to separate the boxes, in order to have nobody enraged by their nephews.
Unsatisfied by having two puppies less, Mustard went to her sister’s box and took, in her mouth the first little ball of fur that found ahead of her. When Ketchup missed one of the babies, went to her sister’s lair and took one of the kittens…. any kitten…
With the difference of the days that the clutches had, it wasn’t unusual to see in one box three fat little cats, with eyes opened and a little one, still blind, mistaken in the intense cat game.
One day, I went to the service area and caught a forgotten kitten… it was too heavy to be dragged by the scruff from a side to another.
Meowed begging for someone, mother, aunt, anyone, that took it back to its brothers’ heat. I took it in my arms; it was tender and shaky, like its little heart, pulsing crazily behind little ribs, of toothpick thickness. I took it to the clutch and arranged the first empty teat I found. Looked for a bigger box and put the two females together, with the eight collective puppies and the eighteen milk faucets. I never found another lost kitten.
Until today, I carry with me the responsibility of having touched that little being that was so fragile. To hold a newborn kitten in our hands change something inside us.
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