Do they know it’s Chrsitmas?

I enjoy hanging out with man’s best friend. Love a cwtch with a cat. Am firmly of the opinion that if you take on a pet, you are signing up for a lifelong commitment and must treat animals with respect: care for their wellbeing, ensure their safety. If you abandon a domesticated animal, you should be a) ashamed of yourself and b) probably prosecuted.

There. Am hoping that is crystal’.

In the batshit – ouch – crazy year that is 2020, we have witnessed all sorts of weird and, just occasionally, wonderful things. Conspiracies have moved up a whole new set of gears, facts are not the dependable currency they once were and the notion of society is (involuntarily) under scrutiny. (I will gesture to the vast debris field that is politics but not go there if you don’t mind.)

Health of swathes of the population has been damaged, many fatally. The impact economically? So very many good, diligent, talented, hardworking people have had their livelihoods whipped away overnight. The “viability” of their trade/profession/business has been upended and skewered straight out of left field.

Breathtaking. Distressing. Heartbreaking.

And yet I have found a bridge too far.

[Perhaps writing about it here will offer catharsis? If you can shed light on or provide a sensible argument for the following, please comment.]

Triggered by a post on local social media:

Do they know it’s Christmas?

It’s the second sentence. (Well, I say sentence in the absence of consistent punctuation. I mean the phrase after the full stop.)

“It gives the animals who haven’t got a family of their own something special on xmas day [heart emoji]”

Wait, what?!

I for one didn’t realise that “rescue” animals – and, am thinking broadly of any canine or feline friends here – are religious, let alone Christian? If Covid wipes out the human population, are we to imagine that the four legged community would celebrate the birth of baby Jeezus?

Forgive my apparent insensitivity here, but this is next-level bonkers.

Aside from those people who are struggling to make ends meet, there are folk unable to get healthcare. Folk forced to live with a plethora of sub-optimal domestic arrangements* and people – actual human ones – of all stripes who are, for no fault of their own, pitiably isolated and lonely.

I could go on.

If I did go on (and on) we would get to a time where Satan would be skating to work before the idea of Christmas presents for orphan pets (during a pandemic) had any credence.

In the twenty-first century-developed-world I am incredulous – against a backdrop of some pretty stiff competition for loss of credulity – that Christmas pressies for pooches would dimly light a single pixel on our collective societal radar ahead of the human wreckage we are faced with.

After all, the creatures in question are in care already right? (Kudos to their dedicated carers are doing sterling work.)

Perhaps if there was light hinting toward the end of the pandemic tunnel then… No. Nope. Nada. Still doesn’t work.

I am left pondering what factors would have to be in place for this to become a valid priority? If every hungry child were nourished? If employment/income was secured for the struggling? If hospital patient operations were being carried out? If key workers were able to be guaranteed safety from contagion?

[Blinks, almost imperceptable shae of the head, thousand yard stare.]

Help me out here… Is it me who needs therapy or those posting these appeals on social media?

Answers on a postcard to the usual address.

*mahousive understatement.

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