An interesting little chain of events happened to me this week, which started on Face Book.  If you’re not on it, let me point out that people are often posting articles or awareness groups about all sorts of things.   I’ll admit with so many messages and causes being communicated via Face Book, that they can lose a bit of impact.

But in the last week, I posted on my own wall, and nobody else’s, an article I’d seen in the paper about a girl who allowed herself to be tortured as a protest to

Amongst the comments made on my wall relating to the article was one from a bloke who simply wrote off the article by saying ‘if you care about this so much Amber, why don’t you do something about it?’

It’s the typical sort of dismissive attitude that riles me through its laziness and presumption.  Rather than ask ‘what can be done?’, or a simple opinion, there are those one or two that prefer to shut down conversation by trying to frighten everyone off.

A convenient diversion from those that I suspect are annoyed by people that care about things other than themselves.

That aside, only a day later, as I was in the middle of a holiday in Indonesia, I returned back to my hotel one night with my brother.  As we came towards the lit up foyer, which lead up to our floor, we could see something in the middle of the area, which didn’t look good.

‘Oh god, I think something’s dead!’ I said to my brother.  As we got closer it became clear that it was a dead cat.  A little shocking and sad for an animal lover and also a bit odd.

I say odd, because something didn’t seem right.  The words ‘cat’s go off to die’ came into my head, so what was going on here?

It just didn’t make a lot of sense and without claiming to be vet, I couldn’t get one of the few facts I felt I knew about cats out of my head.   Cats go off to die, they don’t choose a fully lit up marble foyer to do it in, or so I thought.

Then suddenly things got even stranger, as I suddenly noticed there was also body lying face down just under the stairs not too far from the cat.  What on earth was going on?  Not quite the sort of scene we’d expected to come home to.

The body was of a man in his 30’s, not dead but presumably so drunk that he’d somehow ended up face down on a very random angle.

And then my brother noticed that up the walls of the stairwell and the stairs itself was spots of faeces. I’m sorry, I understand this story is not good but I raise it for a reason.

It was now clearly time to call security as this whole thing was not making sense and the sense that my brother was starting to make of it was not one that I wanted to hear.

The security guys agreed with my brother that the drunken man had probably done something really terrible to the cat.  Although of course this couldn’t be proved as there were no cameras.

The drunken guy was nudged and quizzed about the cat but that went about as well as a conversation with a drunken guy can go.

I wanted to call the police.  I wanted to cry.  And then, I fantasised if we were right, what I’d do to the guy.

The staff and security weren’t interested in calling the police. The whole thing haunted me so badly.  I was devastated that I couldn’t have done something to save the cat, if in fact what had taken place was what we’d feared.

My only solace, or way to stop being haunted by the scene, is that if this had taken place in my country, I could and would have called the police,  and I believe my report would have been taken seriously.

We need to have open forums on causes to keep awareness of the standards we expect. And nobody else should write off your particular passion as wasted discussion, or because it annoys people that others bother to care.


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