Zoo life at Oficina

My whole life, I grew up with animals. My Mum worked for decades in the veterinary field, and as a result, she would often bring home abandoned runts, scruffy mungrels and forlorn tabbies that we’d look after for a “few days” that eventually turned into months, that turned inevitably into entire life spans. Cats from all walks of life, deaf, toothless feral cats, to beautiful bobcats, and part-persian lapcats. We had the lot.

Dogs ranging from German Shepard dogs, labradors, lerchers, greyhounds and Shih Tsus. Ducks, rabbits, snakes, rats, tortoises that had survived two great wars and the London Blitz and even birds when I was younger (thankfully they were donated to a local aviary and we didn’t keep anymore after that). But it was a zoo, and I loved every minute of my life growing up in that environment. It was also a pretty small 3 bedroom semi detached house on a busy main road on the outskirts of London… Not a lot of space once you’ve crammed a family and all the furballs together.

From leaving home at the age of 18 until my life here in Brazil, I’d never had an animal companion to call my own, but always leaped at the opportunity to help roomies or friends with their animal keeping duties, it was always a pleasure, and I knew once I’d settled myself someplace, I’d find a companion to call my own.

My life took an unexpected turn in Brazil, during a short 3 month assignment, I fell in love with Tati, and no mountain of paperwork or streams of red tape would stop me getting back to her, and this beautiful land. Within months of arriving, Tati and I were walking close to her families old farm when we found this straggly puppy, living off of cardboard, trash, his own poop and drinking puddles of water, flea ridden but beautiful all the same. We knew we couldn’t leave him behind, so we scooped him up, got him washed, fed, looked at by a pro, and began our life with this maniac..

It wasn’t long before we knew Ralph had far outgrown apartment life (as well as us, too) and the idea of moving to the old farm went from pipedream to reality. Transitioning into this life was hard and it’d be wrong to say that we are completely transitioned now, but for Ralph, it was an overnight settling in period. Ripping about the place, the new sights, smells, sounds and ground to dig in, roll about on and call his own.

Tati’s parents had an old bruiser of a dog who was staying at her Uncles place down the road, now that we were on the farm, they asked if we’d mind looking after him, which of course we didn’t. We were still driving every day to Sao Paulo to our jobs, and the company would do Ralph good whilst we were away. Enter, centre stage, Ronaldo!

An 8-9 year old Lab cross bruiser with a lot of character and an insatiable appetite to mark his territory where ever he passed. Ralph, at this point hadn’t even really learned to cock his leg, so dog school was in full affect. He’d had a diet of left over barbecue food and hotdogs for who knows how long, so although he could move, he resembled an oak barrel as he bore through the long grasses behind the farm. Purely in short bursts, you understand.

Tati and I fed Ralph pretty clean grub, and it was just as easy to knock up a bit extra for Ronaldinho. He dropped a few pounds, took up a bit more excercise with a young pup to chase about and we think he resembles less a barrel these days. His neck is still wider than his head, though. But I’ll just say he is big boned!

These days, they’re not bessie mates, but they get on all right, Ronaldo is an old man, Ralph a teenager, I think we all know from our life experiences that this is never a winning combination, dog or otherwise!

So, then there were two.

Some months passed and life on the farm was settling into a rhythm. Tati and I were close to leaving our jobs and starting on the oficina74 journey. One day I was out on the road bike and on my way back, I noticed a small white thing in middle of a busy road close to the farm, I caught the sound of a very weak meow and quickly realised it was a kitten.

I headed out when a gap cleared (sadly, life has very little value here, kitten/human could be negligible to some fuckwit in an Uno..) I got out and scooped it up. It was drizzling, grey and chilly, and this little thing was soaked through and looking pretty worse for wear.
I rode the couple kilometers back to the farm with her head poking out my cycling jersey.

On arriving home and giving this drowned rat a warm shower, we found she was female, in good shape and with the most dazzling blue eyes and the softest fur. She was a fighter, and Tati named her Frida after Frida Kahlo. A fighter, a brave soul who took no shit from no one. Still to this day, 2 years on, she rules the roost, the dogs, chickens and us are kept in check with this freedom fighter, her claws create profound surrealism art on the limbs of those that dare cross her. One day, I hope this Frida and others like her can topple the likes of deep state agencies like the CIA, as well the capitalist rule in which we live under. Stay fighting, sister.

Then there were 3.

We inherited a couple of chickens along the way, Tali and Tassie. They live in an old chicken pen that had lain unused for some years. Tati and I renovated, cleaned it up, built some new nesting boxes and roosting branches, added a feeding and water station then added the girls to the oficina74 roster. Donated to us by an old friend of Tati, whom could no longer look after them and manage the looking after of her beautiful son, whom has a rapidly advancing immune mediated disease.

We were more than happy to take these beautiful birds in at oficina and they live down on the property line, taking dust baths and eating grubs in a large, protected area. They make the best poop for fertiliser and even though they are aging and not really producing many eggs these days, when they do, they are absolutely incredible.

Any old veg, or greens that go unpicked or forgotten are passed over the wall to this beauty, too, although she isn’t ours, she was here long before us, and we give her as many scraps and treats as we can, she’s also fanatic for bread, which there is no shortage of here!

I don’t agree with how she is kept, and used, her young are kept with her until they are no longer dependent on her milk and then taken away and sold, the boys for meat, the girls to continue the milk production cycle. I can’t comment, although it’s been some time that we’ve not eaten meat or drank milk, we still do consume dairy, like cheese and butter. But this cows had a tough enough life up until now. I have no say in what happens to her, but I like her, she has character, she’s gentle and playful, plus she always digs my bread, even if its overproofed.

The fact that neutering and vaccines are expensive, a lot of animals are abandoned once they stop being cute. Street dogs and feral cats are everywhere, it’s an epidemic.

Just last week this little thing showed up;

We feed her and leave her water, a bed that she makes use of it, but come morning, she’s wanting out. She probably has important business meetings and an enviable social life to attend to, so who are we to trap her. But if she keeps coming by, we’ll neuter and vaccinate and allow her the freedom to roam if she wants. At least she can play and not spend a life in a perpetual cycle of pregnancy and rearing. We decided on Olivia, as she is all legs and no body, you’re welcome anytime, doll. Just don’t eat my shoes.

The Oficina74 Roster

So the tally at oficina is currently stands like this, we have a lot of love to give and we love when others bring their hounds here to play and chill with Ralph and Ronaldo during our brunches or events. It fills us with happiness to see humans acting with compassion towards animals. It does need to go a lot further. But hopefully we can make a fractional difference to a few furballs, and perhaps inspire others to do the same.

 

 

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