A lesson in love

Recently, a Trinidadian visitor to Tobago contacted me after she and her companions had visited a popular tourism site. She reported that one of the chickens there was limping, owing to a cord tied around one ankle, seemingly cutting into the flesh. For over an hour, the visitors had attempted to capture the chicken, to remove the cord...but to no avail. Eventually, having to leave, they gave up.

The concerned visitor asked if it would be possible for me to "look into" the situation. In a society where some do not notice or seem to care about the suffering or basic needs of an animal (whether dog, cat or livestock), it touched me that someone cared sufficiently about a "common fowl."

Species should not matter when it comes to the alleviation of suffering of another living being. Once we are in a position to assist...why not?

I happened to be going into Scarborough on an errand. I car-pooled with two friends who also had to do business in that general area. They drove me to my desired location and returned for me once they had completed their business.

I had mentioned the visitor’s can-you-help-the-chicken request and my two friends, also animal lovers, unhesitatingly agreed to join me on the mission.

At the site, it struck me that locating the chicken might not be straightforward. The visitor had not identified a specific area in which said chicken might be, and, as with most places in Tobago, there were multiple fowls running around the grounds.

“Is that the chicken?” one of my friends said, pointing to a mother hen with a brood of chicks, all running from a group of youngsters who were chasing and teasing them.

At that moment a young boy from the group picked up a rock and pelted it at the hen, shouting: “G'wan from here!”

While to him, the act of pelting was likely boyish fun, the moment called for awareness of the need for compassion – a lesson in love. On being told not to pelt at the chicken, or any animal, as they too have feelings and can be hurt, the boy looked at us without saying a word and moved away.

His look did not seem to be one of resentment or defiance, rather one that suggested quiet consideration, mixed with slight confusion. He must have wondered why he was told to not do something that he had probably previously done without reprimand or repercussion.

After all, it is only a common yard fowl...only Sunday lunch...only a treat from KFC, Church’s or Royal Castle.

The object of our search was not far away, hobbling quietly, with what appeared to be a piece of orange wool tied loosely around one ankle. Closer observation revealed that the cord was not cutting into her flesh, but was irritating her, causing the appearance of limping. If she wanted to, she could possibly have pecked it off.

Deciding to try and assist her anyway, we approached from three angles, but she successfully evaded us. The "little chicken pelter" wondered what we were doing, until one of my friends explained that we were trying to help the chicken get a cord off her foot. Again, the expression on his little face momentarily seemed to reflect consideration. Perhaps acknowledging our strategy, he and some from his entourage joined the apparent game.

To protect herself from the advancing humans, the chicken ran into nearby bushes.

Eventually, the boy and his group gave up and left, but my friends and I persisted, hoping to corner the hen in the foliage. A man who was passing, seeing what must have been the unusual appearance of three adults (one over 80) running behind a chicken at a tourism site, said (what may have been his only rational assumption): “Lunch?”

After prolonged, unsuccessful attempts, we called it quits, concluding that the chicken would be fine with her woolly "anklet."

The exercise was not pointless. We had had the best medicine (lots of laughs) and the opportunity had arisen for a little boy to join us in trying to catch a chicken – to help, rather than hurt or kill it for consumption. I believe that, on some level, he understood through the experience that animals have feelings too.

May that small seed of compassion grow within him, and may he share its fruits with others, to the benefit of more living beings.