In Canada and America, the population spends as much money on pets as they do for human babies.
That said, Western Culture is not as child friendly as the Family Sitcoms would have people believe.
Rights involve treatment and how one may treat each other through the graduated process of growing up and eventually adulting.
Poorer nations favour a strategy of a woman having many children, so that a few survive to adulthood, with most dying in infancy.
In the west, Modern Medicine has completely altered that reality and women opt to have fewer, 3, 2, 1 or even none. Some women do have offspring with multiple males.
Anyway, family planing across cultural and socioeconomic demographics was not the topic.
Trump’s ‘extreme vetting’ order sows seeds of panic – http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/world-us-canada-38764743
It’s Children People vs Pet People.
Today, I watched from the upper back balcony the children of the Syrian Refugee Families playing in the back yard.
It is a Surrey British Columbia back yard, so there is ample room to play and with the days of rain, the snow is mostly gone.
The cat of our house started out in the house next door and is used to having the run of a 6 yard territory, including going into other people’s houses and bullying their pets and eating the food.
She is 3 and more domestic now and is an only cat now that the Elder Queen Cat passed away – she was 16 and had been born in the house she passed away in, my Niece’s Cat: Blanciflore named after a book character in a SF teen series after my time.
Anyway, the children stopped playing and gathered in semi-circles and became animated at the Cat at our back gate looking into their yard.
She strolled around the fence and headed into their yard and to her shock, they shooed her out.
the oldest boy, about 6, taking a half hearted light kick not near her, since I could see him, but not her around the corner of the house,
she fled up the sidewalk, up the steps to the driveway and was furiously grooming herself, when I came out the front door to that side of the house to check on her.
Only her pride wounded and shocked, she murred at me and then marched to the front door, the only thing limping was her pride.
She sat to let me know she wanted In The House and I opened the door; she bounced up, jaunty tailed and then ran downstairs to the saftey of home. My Sister’s cat.
Some years ago, in the 1990s, Canada was bringing in Bosnian and Rwandan Refugees, and I lived in an apartment in North Vancouver right across the street from Lion’s Gate Hospital. in the 1940s, it had been the Nurse Housing, but had since become a Slumlord Apartment block.
I was walking my then partner’s dog – he was a Labrador and Terrier cross, the runt of the liter so lab shape, but terrier size.
I had him on a leash, walking on my right side and coming towards us, was a Woman in a burka with a 4 year old boy who was carrying a stick as if it was a spear.
I shifted the dog to my left side and shifted sides of the sidewalk so it was
road, sidewalk dog, me then the kid and the mother on the sideside yard side of the sidewalk.
In part a Chivalry of concern for a Mother and Child on a sidewalk adjacent to a roadway, but more than that, to protect my dog from a kid with a stick.
Sure enough, the kid lunged at the dog, I grabbed the stick with my right hand and gave it a twirl and reversed the momentum and poked him in his stomach a bit harder than he was going to poke the dog, who had no way to suspect what was about to happen.
The boy was stunned and started to cry and looked up at his mother.
His mother and I had eye contact the entire time and she was smiling at me and nodded.
the boy’s about to cry demand caught in his throat, he did not understand the look that passed between his mother and this blonde woman smiling at her.
I dropped the stick and did not even break stride. I did not finish the walk around the entire building and took the next into the apartment door though.