recently, a lady whose kindness knows no bounds, met a dog lying in the middle of the street. the dog, hence named angel, couldn't move because she was a victim of a hit-n-run. her pelvic bones as well as her left forearm was shattered. leaving her crippled. the lady refused to accept negativity and spent an enormous amount of money to treat the dog. almost seven thousand ringgit. a HUGE amount indeed, seeing that angel wasn't even her pet in the first place, just a dog on the street.
just a dog?
a dog is still a life. regardless. what is the value we place on this life? is she worth this much money? could the money have been put to better use? saving many more doggies instead? is the lady who saved her an angel? or merely eccentric?
which side of the fence do u stand?
perhaps the vet shouldn't have charged so much. although the skilled vet did a fine job...should he charge so much? even when he has spent almost rm100,000 on equipment and skills training? is it fair for people to have to pay so much for kindness? to save a life? but if no one pays the bill, how will the skills and equipment be acquired to provide the service in the first place?
in another perspective, if a child is sick, is it fair that her parents have to pay rm500,000 so that she can have a liver transplant? she is human after all. but she is only one child. the money could probably feed 5000 kids for a year. try telling that to the parents and see what they say.
are you still standing on the same side of the fence?
what value do you place on a life?
is quality healthcare a blessing or a bane? how do we pay for health when the payment itself causes an arm and a leg?
what is the definition of humanity? for professionalism? are the doctors pursuing perfection to become specialist in order to provide the best health care? or perhaps it is the pursuit of money? have they lost sight of humanity in in the effort to become better doctors? have we forgotten why we promise to do the best we can in the first place? the best for our patients???
when i asked the kind lady why she was willing to pay so much to save angel, her answer was short and to the point.
because every life is sacred.
Friday, June 19, 2009
Thursday, April 09, 2009
the road not taken
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;
Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,
And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.
The Road Not Taken is a poem by Robert Frost, published in 1916 in his collection Mountain Interval.
i was reading a book recently, and i chance upon this poem. i have always been intrigued by the meaning of the poem, and how it always seems to appear unexpectedly at moments in my life when i seem to be at a point where the roads diverge.
in retrospect, the most significant decision of my life was to agree when my mom suggested that i transfer to Sam Tet to continue my form six studies. by norm, i was supposed to proceed to another school after my high school, but my parents decided that i would be much too distracted if i was to go there. besides, Sam Tet was famous for its excellent STPM records. n my sis was already there.
of course, a change of scene did not deter me from getting involve actively in the extra-curricular activities, and soon i was involved in the english club. little did i know that meeting my club advisor's family would influence my life greatly. her son became one of my best buddies and her husband, a vet, introduced to me an option i didn't know i had. i found my life's passion for healing all creatures, big and small.
which lead me to vet school. i have memories n stories to last me a life time, and friends who stood by me thru thick n thin. it was a friend from vet school who introduced me to a special person. the man who would become the love of my life.
and it all could be back tracked to the point where i made the decision to take the road less travelled by, and THAT has made all the difference!
although sometimes when i am in my more pensive moods, i do look back and wonder about the road not taken....
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;
Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,
And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.
The Road Not Taken is a poem by Robert Frost, published in 1916 in his collection Mountain Interval.
i was reading a book recently, and i chance upon this poem. i have always been intrigued by the meaning of the poem, and how it always seems to appear unexpectedly at moments in my life when i seem to be at a point where the roads diverge.
in retrospect, the most significant decision of my life was to agree when my mom suggested that i transfer to Sam Tet to continue my form six studies. by norm, i was supposed to proceed to another school after my high school, but my parents decided that i would be much too distracted if i was to go there. besides, Sam Tet was famous for its excellent STPM records. n my sis was already there.
of course, a change of scene did not deter me from getting involve actively in the extra-curricular activities, and soon i was involved in the english club. little did i know that meeting my club advisor's family would influence my life greatly. her son became one of my best buddies and her husband, a vet, introduced to me an option i didn't know i had. i found my life's passion for healing all creatures, big and small.
which lead me to vet school. i have memories n stories to last me a life time, and friends who stood by me thru thick n thin. it was a friend from vet school who introduced me to a special person. the man who would become the love of my life.
and it all could be back tracked to the point where i made the decision to take the road less travelled by, and THAT has made all the difference!
although sometimes when i am in my more pensive moods, i do look back and wonder about the road not taken....
Monday, October 06, 2008
what a year- 30 and counting.....
the year that was...and the year that will be.....
this year started with a blast....not quite the happy one like last year when i got married, but rather with the type of blast equal to that of chernobyl.
i pour my heart into my work, because i believe it to be a calling, because i believe it makes a difference. despite that, my work was made a mockery. i was unfairly and vulgarly accused. by refusing to take the insults, i left my previous job. which threw a HUGE SPANNER into my plans.
i was expecting my son, and not having any pay was a huge blow to the family finances. having and bringing up a kid is not a joke and by today's standard of living, an expensive undertaking. it has been a tough battle uphill. even now, to make ends meet- in spite of all the generous help we have been receiving from family and friends. not having the security of knowing when my next paycheck will come is a terrifying time for me.
in retrospect however, i have my ex-boss to thank, for giving me the push i needed to venture forth and be my own boss. something that i have been considering for some time; but i was getting comfortable in the employee zone...not satisfied yet not ready to leave the misconceived perception of false security being employed provided. my parents and husband have been unbelievably supportive emotionally, physically and financially, and thanks to them, and the "ex-boss" i started my own vet clinic. what a liberation, what a jump! it is scary yet exhilarating, tiring yet energizing, terrifying yet full of hope. god knows when i'll actually get a regular paycheck again, but at least i am happy. happy being able to do what i want, the way i want to, according to my own principles, and most importantly, finally getting the due results for the efforts i put in.
this year have also been one of the most defining moments of my life. i took on a great journey, i became a mother. that is; starting with a gut wrenching, earth shaking, heart splitting, excruciatingly painful process called LABOUR. BUT nature is wise, when your own life is placed in your arms, still wet and sticky after birth, with the umbilical cord intact, and eyes open with wonder and searching for your voice, all the pain is forgotten, the difficulties endured. for what is greater than the gift given to us by god and blessed with life? it makes perfect sense and you finally begin to understand what it means to be a parent, and you finally, TRULY appreciate what your parents have to go through, for you to reach where you are now. to realise that although the umbilical cord was severed at birth, the ties of family, of blood will bind u forever. and though their hands are no longer holding yours, but they are still supporting you, making sure that they catch you when u when you fall, and heal you when break.
truly, without them, where goes the thirty years? what shapes the next thirty years?
30 years and counting.....
this year started with a blast....not quite the happy one like last year when i got married, but rather with the type of blast equal to that of chernobyl.
i pour my heart into my work, because i believe it to be a calling, because i believe it makes a difference. despite that, my work was made a mockery. i was unfairly and vulgarly accused. by refusing to take the insults, i left my previous job. which threw a HUGE SPANNER into my plans.
i was expecting my son, and not having any pay was a huge blow to the family finances. having and bringing up a kid is not a joke and by today's standard of living, an expensive undertaking. it has been a tough battle uphill. even now, to make ends meet- in spite of all the generous help we have been receiving from family and friends. not having the security of knowing when my next paycheck will come is a terrifying time for me.
in retrospect however, i have my ex-boss to thank, for giving me the push i needed to venture forth and be my own boss. something that i have been considering for some time; but i was getting comfortable in the employee zone...not satisfied yet not ready to leave the misconceived perception of false security being employed provided. my parents and husband have been unbelievably supportive emotionally, physically and financially, and thanks to them, and the "ex-boss" i started my own vet clinic. what a liberation, what a jump! it is scary yet exhilarating, tiring yet energizing, terrifying yet full of hope. god knows when i'll actually get a regular paycheck again, but at least i am happy. happy being able to do what i want, the way i want to, according to my own principles, and most importantly, finally getting the due results for the efforts i put in.
this year have also been one of the most defining moments of my life. i took on a great journey, i became a mother. that is; starting with a gut wrenching, earth shaking, heart splitting, excruciatingly painful process called LABOUR. BUT nature is wise, when your own life is placed in your arms, still wet and sticky after birth, with the umbilical cord intact, and eyes open with wonder and searching for your voice, all the pain is forgotten, the difficulties endured. for what is greater than the gift given to us by god and blessed with life? it makes perfect sense and you finally begin to understand what it means to be a parent, and you finally, TRULY appreciate what your parents have to go through, for you to reach where you are now. to realise that although the umbilical cord was severed at birth, the ties of family, of blood will bind u forever. and though their hands are no longer holding yours, but they are still supporting you, making sure that they catch you when u when you fall, and heal you when break.
truly, without them, where goes the thirty years? what shapes the next thirty years?
30 years and counting.....
Tuesday, September 09, 2008
VINCENT-Don McLean
Starry, starry night
Paint your palette blue and gray
Look out on a summer's day
With eyes that know the darkness in my soul
Shadows on the hills
Sketch the trees and the daffodils
Catch the breeze and the winter chills
In colors on the snowy linen land
Now I understand
What you tried to say to me
How you suffered for your sanity
How you tried to set them free
They would not listen they did not know how
Perhaps they'll listen now
Starry, starry night
Flaming flowers that brightly blaze
Swirling clouds in violet haze
Reflecting Vincent's eyes of China blue
Colors changing hue
Morning fields of amber grain
Weathered faces lined in pain
Are soothed beneath the artist's loving hands
Now I understand
What you tried to say to me
How you suffered for your sanity
How you tried to set them free
They would not listen they did not know how
Perhaps they'll listen now
For they could not love you
But still your love was true
And when no hope was left in sight
On that starry, starry night
You took your life as lovers often do
But I could have told you Vincent
This world was never meant for one as
beautiful as you
Starry, starry night
Portraits hung in empty halls
Frameless heads on nameless walls
With eyes that watch the world and can't forget
Like the strangers that you've met
The ragged men in ragged clothes
A silver thorn on a bloody rose
Lie crushed and broken on the virgin snow
Now I think I know
What you tried to say to me
How you suffered for your sanity
How you tried to set them free
They would not listen they're not listening still
Perhaps they never will
lullaby for my son....
Paint your palette blue and gray
Look out on a summer's day
With eyes that know the darkness in my soul
Shadows on the hills
Sketch the trees and the daffodils
Catch the breeze and the winter chills
In colors on the snowy linen land
Now I understand
What you tried to say to me
How you suffered for your sanity
How you tried to set them free
They would not listen they did not know how
Perhaps they'll listen now
Starry, starry night
Flaming flowers that brightly blaze
Swirling clouds in violet haze
Reflecting Vincent's eyes of China blue
Colors changing hue
Morning fields of amber grain
Weathered faces lined in pain
Are soothed beneath the artist's loving hands
Now I understand
What you tried to say to me
How you suffered for your sanity
How you tried to set them free
They would not listen they did not know how
Perhaps they'll listen now
For they could not love you
But still your love was true
And when no hope was left in sight
On that starry, starry night
You took your life as lovers often do
But I could have told you Vincent
This world was never meant for one as
beautiful as you
Starry, starry night
Portraits hung in empty halls
Frameless heads on nameless walls
With eyes that watch the world and can't forget
Like the strangers that you've met
The ragged men in ragged clothes
A silver thorn on a bloody rose
Lie crushed and broken on the virgin snow
Now I think I know
What you tried to say to me
How you suffered for your sanity
How you tried to set them free
They would not listen they're not listening still
Perhaps they never will
lullaby for my son....
Monday, November 05, 2007
HOW COULD YOU?
--------------------------A Note from the Author:--------------
If "How Could You?" brought tears to your eyes as you read it, as it did to mine as I wrote it, it is because it is the composite story of the millions of formerly "owned" pets who die each year in American and Canadian animal shelters. Anyone is welcome to distribute the essay for a noncommercial purpose, as long as it is properly attributed with the copyright notice. Please use it to help educate, on your websites, in newsletters, on animal shelter and vet office bulletin boards. Tell the public that the decision to add a pet to the family is an important one for life, that animals deserve our love and sensible care, that finding another appropriate home for your animal is your responsibility and any local humane society or animal welfare league can offer you good advice, and that all life is precious. Please do your part to stop the killing, and encourage all spay and neuter campaigns in order to prevent unwanted animals- Jim Willis
HOW COULD YOU?
This just made me very sad. It highlights how many people take up pets but then abandon them as soon as they outlive their usefulness/cuteness. It doesn't occur just in the US (Even then, the laws for pet abandonment are pretty strict), but here in Malaysia as well.
HOW COULD YOU? by Jim Willis
A man in Grand Rapids, Michigan incredibly took out a US $7,000 full page ad in the paper to present the HOW COULD YOU? By Jim Willis, 2001 How Could You?
When I was a puppy, I entertained you with my antics and made you laugh. You called me your child, and despite a number of chewed shoes and a couple of murdered throw pillows, I became your best friend.
Whenever I was "bad," you'd shake your finger at me and ask "How could you?" -- but then you'd relent and roll me over for a belly rub.
My housebreaking took a little longer than expected, because you were terribly busy, but we worked on that together. I remember those nights of nuzzling you in bed and listening to your confidences and secret dreams, and I believed that life could not be any more perfect.
We went for long walks and runs in the park, car rides, stops for ice cream (I only got the cone because "ice cream is bad for dogs" you said), and I took long naps in the sun waiting for you to come home at the end of the day.
Gradually, you began spending more time at work and on your career, and more time searching for a human mate. I waited for you patiently, comforted you through heartbreaks and disappointments, never chided you about bad decisions, and romped with glee at your homecomings, and when you fell in love.
She, now your wife, is not a "dog person" -- still I welcomed her into our home, tried to show her affection, and obeyed her. I was happy because you were happy.
Then the human babies came along and I shared your excitement. I was fascinated by their pinkness, how they smelled, and I wanted to mother them, too. Only she and you worried that I might hurt them, and I spent most of my time banished to another room, or to a dog crate. Oh, how I wanted to love them, but I became a prisoner of love."
As they began to grow, I became their friend. They clung to my fur and pulled themselves up on wobbly legs, poked fingers in my eyes, investigated my ears, and gave me kisses on my nose. I loved everything about them and their touch -- because your touch was now so infrequent -- and I would've defended them with my life if need be. I would sneak into their beds and listen to their worries and secret dreams, and together we waited for the sound of your car in the driveway.
There had been a time, when others asked you if you had a dog, that you produced a photo of me from your wallet and told them stories about me. These past few years, you just answered "yes" and changed the subject. I had gone from being "your dog" to "just a dog," and you resented every expenditure on my behalf.
Now, you have a new career opportunity in another city, and you and they will be moving to an apartment that does not allow pets. You've made the right decision for your "family," but there was a time when I was your only family.
I was excited about the car ride until we arrived at the animal shelter. It smelled of dogs and cats, of fear, of hopelessness. You filled out the paperwork and said "I know you will find a good home for her." They shrugged and gave you a pained look. They understand the realities facing a middle-aged dog, even one with "papers."
You had to pry your son's fingers loose from my collar as he screamed, "No, Daddy! Please don't let them take my dog!" And I worried for him, and what lessons you had just taught him about friendship and loyalty, about love and responsibility, and about respect for all life.
You gave me a good-bye pat on the head, avoided my eyes, and politely refused to take my collar and leash with you. You had a deadline to meet and now I have one, too. After you left, the two nice ladies said you probably knew about your upcoming move months ago and made no attempt to find me another good home. They shook their heads and asked "How could you?"
They are as attentive to us here in the shelter as their busy schedules allow. They feed us, of course, but I lost my appetite days ago.
At first, whenever anyone passed my pen, I rushed to the front, hoping it was you that you had changed your mind -- that this was all a bad dream... or I hoped it would at least be someone who cared, anyone who might save me.
When I realized I could not compete with the frolicking for attention of happy puppies, oblivious to their own fate, I retreated to a far corner and waited. I heard her footsteps as she came for me at the end of the day, and I padded along the aisle after her to a separate room. A blissfully quiet room.
She placed me on the table and rubbed my ears, and told me not to worry. My heart pounded in anticipation of what was to come, but there was also a sense of relief. The prisoner of love had run out of days.
As is my nature, I was more concerned about her. The burden which she bears weighs heavily on her, and I know that, the same way I knew your every mood.
She gently placed a tourniquet around my foreleg as a tear ran down her cheek. I licked her hand in the same way I used to comfort you so many years ago.
She expertly slid the hypodermic needle into my vein. As I felt the sting and the cool liquid coursing through my body, I lay down sleepily, looked into her kind eyes and murmured "How could you?"
Perhaps because she understood my dogspeak, she said "I'm so sorry." She hugged me, and hurriedly explained it was her job to make sure I went to a better place, where I wouldn't be ignored or abused or abandoned, or have to fend for myself --a place of love and light so very different from this earthly place.
And with my last bit of energy, I tried to convey to her with a thump of my tail that my "How could you?" was not directed at her. It was directed at you, My Beloved Master, I was thinking of you. I will think of you and wait for you forever. May everyone in your life continue to show you so much loyalty.
If "How Could You?" brought tears to your eyes as you read it, as it did to mine as I wrote it, it is because it is the composite story of the millions of formerly "owned" pets who die each year in American and Canadian animal shelters. Anyone is welcome to distribute the essay for a noncommercial purpose, as long as it is properly attributed with the copyright notice. Please use it to help educate, on your websites, in newsletters, on animal shelter and vet office bulletin boards. Tell the public that the decision to add a pet to the family is an important one for life, that animals deserve our love and sensible care, that finding another appropriate home for your animal is your responsibility and any local humane society or animal welfare league can offer you good advice, and that all life is precious. Please do your part to stop the killing, and encourage all spay and neuter campaigns in order to prevent unwanted animals- Jim Willis
HOW COULD YOU?
This just made me very sad. It highlights how many people take up pets but then abandon them as soon as they outlive their usefulness/cuteness. It doesn't occur just in the US (Even then, the laws for pet abandonment are pretty strict), but here in Malaysia as well.
HOW COULD YOU? by Jim Willis
A man in Grand Rapids, Michigan incredibly took out a US $7,000 full page ad in the paper to present the HOW COULD YOU? By Jim Willis, 2001 How Could You?
When I was a puppy, I entertained you with my antics and made you laugh. You called me your child, and despite a number of chewed shoes and a couple of murdered throw pillows, I became your best friend.
Whenever I was "bad," you'd shake your finger at me and ask "How could you?" -- but then you'd relent and roll me over for a belly rub.
My housebreaking took a little longer than expected, because you were terribly busy, but we worked on that together. I remember those nights of nuzzling you in bed and listening to your confidences and secret dreams, and I believed that life could not be any more perfect.
We went for long walks and runs in the park, car rides, stops for ice cream (I only got the cone because "ice cream is bad for dogs" you said), and I took long naps in the sun waiting for you to come home at the end of the day.
Gradually, you began spending more time at work and on your career, and more time searching for a human mate. I waited for you patiently, comforted you through heartbreaks and disappointments, never chided you about bad decisions, and romped with glee at your homecomings, and when you fell in love.
She, now your wife, is not a "dog person" -- still I welcomed her into our home, tried to show her affection, and obeyed her. I was happy because you were happy.
Then the human babies came along and I shared your excitement. I was fascinated by their pinkness, how they smelled, and I wanted to mother them, too. Only she and you worried that I might hurt them, and I spent most of my time banished to another room, or to a dog crate. Oh, how I wanted to love them, but I became a prisoner of love."
As they began to grow, I became their friend. They clung to my fur and pulled themselves up on wobbly legs, poked fingers in my eyes, investigated my ears, and gave me kisses on my nose. I loved everything about them and their touch -- because your touch was now so infrequent -- and I would've defended them with my life if need be. I would sneak into their beds and listen to their worries and secret dreams, and together we waited for the sound of your car in the driveway.
There had been a time, when others asked you if you had a dog, that you produced a photo of me from your wallet and told them stories about me. These past few years, you just answered "yes" and changed the subject. I had gone from being "your dog" to "just a dog," and you resented every expenditure on my behalf.
Now, you have a new career opportunity in another city, and you and they will be moving to an apartment that does not allow pets. You've made the right decision for your "family," but there was a time when I was your only family.
I was excited about the car ride until we arrived at the animal shelter. It smelled of dogs and cats, of fear, of hopelessness. You filled out the paperwork and said "I know you will find a good home for her." They shrugged and gave you a pained look. They understand the realities facing a middle-aged dog, even one with "papers."
You had to pry your son's fingers loose from my collar as he screamed, "No, Daddy! Please don't let them take my dog!" And I worried for him, and what lessons you had just taught him about friendship and loyalty, about love and responsibility, and about respect for all life.
You gave me a good-bye pat on the head, avoided my eyes, and politely refused to take my collar and leash with you. You had a deadline to meet and now I have one, too. After you left, the two nice ladies said you probably knew about your upcoming move months ago and made no attempt to find me another good home. They shook their heads and asked "How could you?"
They are as attentive to us here in the shelter as their busy schedules allow. They feed us, of course, but I lost my appetite days ago.
At first, whenever anyone passed my pen, I rushed to the front, hoping it was you that you had changed your mind -- that this was all a bad dream... or I hoped it would at least be someone who cared, anyone who might save me.
When I realized I could not compete with the frolicking for attention of happy puppies, oblivious to their own fate, I retreated to a far corner and waited. I heard her footsteps as she came for me at the end of the day, and I padded along the aisle after her to a separate room. A blissfully quiet room.
She placed me on the table and rubbed my ears, and told me not to worry. My heart pounded in anticipation of what was to come, but there was also a sense of relief. The prisoner of love had run out of days.
As is my nature, I was more concerned about her. The burden which she bears weighs heavily on her, and I know that, the same way I knew your every mood.
She gently placed a tourniquet around my foreleg as a tear ran down her cheek. I licked her hand in the same way I used to comfort you so many years ago.
She expertly slid the hypodermic needle into my vein. As I felt the sting and the cool liquid coursing through my body, I lay down sleepily, looked into her kind eyes and murmured "How could you?"
Perhaps because she understood my dogspeak, she said "I'm so sorry." She hugged me, and hurriedly explained it was her job to make sure I went to a better place, where I wouldn't be ignored or abused or abandoned, or have to fend for myself --a place of love and light so very different from this earthly place.
And with my last bit of energy, I tried to convey to her with a thump of my tail that my "How could you?" was not directed at her. It was directed at you, My Beloved Master, I was thinking of you. I will think of you and wait for you forever. May everyone in your life continue to show you so much loyalty.
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