JONAH - Dein Tod war nicht umsonst !!!

Mit freundlicher Genehmigung von Fam. Ulrich und

Jonah
...oder die Geschichte vom Monster vom Van See.

Jahrelang haben Reporter dort in der Osttürkei einem Monster aufgelauert. Jetzt, im November 2008 wurden sie fündig, nur dass das Monster nicht im See lebt, sondern in der Stadtverwaltung von Van sitzt.

Ein angefahrener Hund liegt seit Tagen mit gebrochenen Hinterläufen medizinisch unversorgt, er muss furchtbare Schmerzen leiden,



ein paar wenige mitleidige Seelen bringen ihm Wasser und Futter und wollen Hilfe für ihn holen. Statt der Hilfe kommt der personifizierte Sadismus, die Gleichgültigkeit in Menschengestalt, kommen die Handlanger des Monsters, nicht um ihn zu retten, sondern um den schwer verletzten Hund in die Müllpresse schmeißen, um ihn zu beseitigen. Nur ein Stück Dreck, Müll.



So warfen sie den Hund bei lebendigem Leib und vollem Bewusstsein in die Müllpresse, die ihn quetschte und quetschte während der Hund schrie und schrie und jaulte bis ein letzter Schlag ihn tötete...



... tötete? Nein... auf der Mülldeponie erlitt das schwerst verletzte Tier stundenlange Todesqualen. Aber alle Monster in Van haben es NICHT geschafft, diesem tapferen Hund das Kostbarste zu nehmen, das ein Lebewesen besitzt: sein Leben. Jonah gab NICHT auf!



Jonah ist (noch) halb gelähmt. Die ersten Fotos zeigen ihn in der Tiermedizinischen Fakultät der Universität von Van. Sobald er transportfähig ist, wird seine Behandlung in Ankara fortgeführt.

Lang lebe Jonah - Jonah, Du bist nun frei von diesen Monstern in Van und keiner von ihnen wird je mehr in deine Nähe kommen.



Jonah setzt ein Zeichen! Ein Zeichen auch dafür, dass die Türkei nicht reif ist für die EU.
In der EU gibt es genug Länder, in denen der Tierschutz noch unzulänglich ist, wir brauchen nicht noch ein weiteres Tierschutz-Entwicklungsland!

Es gibt in der Türkei ein Tierschutzgesetz. Dieses wird nicht eingehalten. Gesetze sind Gesetze. Wenn die einen nicht eingehalten werden, muss man sich fragen, wie sieht es mit den anderen aus?

Wie ein Mensch mit Untergebenen, Abhängigen, Schwächeren und Tieren umgeht, sagt viel über diesen Menschen aus.

Das Video zu dieser Greueltat hier:

ACHTUNG !!! Furchtbare Bilder und NIE wird man Jonah's Schmerzensschreie vergessen...

01.12.2008 Jonah, genannt Karam, ist tot!

Liebe Freunde von Jonah, genannt Karam,

wir müssen heute die traurige Nachricht vom Tode dieses Hundes überbringen.
Aber wir sind sicher, dass Jonah/Karam NICHT umsonst gestorben ist, sondern dass immer mehr Menschen ihre Aufmerksamkeit auf die Türkei lenken und kritisch prüfen, was sich dort nicht nur im Tierschutz abspielt.

Jonah hat ein Zeichen gesetzt, das überdauert. Sehen wir uns immer wieder sein Gesicht an:
Er wird uns alle erinnern und ermutigen, weiter zu machen das Ziel anzustreben und schließlich zu erreichen, das notwendige weil Not wendende Umdenken in der Türkei herbeizuführen.

Bitte bleiben Sie uns und vor allem den geschätzten Kollegen besonders in der Türkei verbunden in all ihren Anstrengungen für all die anderen Straßentiere, für die Jonah, genannt Karam, Symbol geworden ist.

Liebe wenn auch traurige Grüße

Christine und Wolfgang Ulrich



Sie haben die Möglichkeit Protestbriefe zu schreiben und Ihre tiefe Abscheu zum Ausdruck zu bringen.
Wir bitten Sie dabei um einen sachlichen und höflichen Ton.
Unflätigkeiten und Kraftausdrücke bieten den Gegnern des Tierschutzes lediglich Angriffsfläche und beschädigen die Anstrengungen der Tierschützer und des Tierschutzes.

Adressen:

Mayor of Van Burhan Yenigun:
Tel.: 0432 216 73 41
vanbelediyesi@van-bld.gov.tr

Governor of Van
Ozdemir Cakacak
Tel.: 0 432 214 96 35
ozdemircakacak@van.gov.tr

Prime Minister Tayyip Erdogan
bimer@basbakanlik.gov.tr
Tel.: 150 (from within Turkey)

Musterbrief auf Türkisch:

Sayin Devlet Yetkilileri, Baylar ve Bayanlar,

Sokaga atilmis yarali kopegin çöp arabasinda canli olarak ezilmis resimleri
butun dunyada internet araciligiyla yayildi. Bu durum insanlik disi, soke edici,
çirkin, öfke uyandirici ve ahlaksiz.
Bu davranisi yapanlar, devlet gorevlileri tarafindan hemen mahkum edilmeli.

Ne yazik ki, bu insafsizligi yapanlar bir kac ruh hastasi kisi degil,
tam tersi yerel belediyelerin kararlarini uygulayan devlet gorevlilerin kendisi.
Dunyanin her tarafindaki insanlar bu davranislari ayipliyor ve suclularin
davranislarindan sorumlu tutulmalarini ve cezalandirilmalarini talep ediyor.

Sokak hayvanlarinin fazlaligi ve kaderi gelismis veya gelismekte olan butun
toplumlari etkiliyor. Ancak, kendisini "medeni" olarak goren bir ulkede bu
davranislar barbar ve vahset. Hayvanlar insanlar gibi aci ve izdirap çeken yaratiklar.
Bu davranislari igrenç ve tiksindirici bulan merhametli insanlar dunyanin heryerinde.

Sizin sorumlulugunuz ve goreviniz hayvanlara yapilan iskenceleri koruyan kanunlarin
uygulanmasini tatbik etmek ve zorunlu kilmak.
Bu hassas olaya karsi derhal hareket etmenizi rica ve israr ediyorum.

Saygilarimla,

...............

Germany

und Musterbrief auf Englisch:

Honorable Officials, Gentlemen, Ladies,

Photos and the story of an injured dog left on the streets
to suffer and then crushed alive in a rubbish van, have traveled around
the globe via the internet. This represents an unbelievable act of
inhumanity.. .hideous, disgusting, outrageous!
An act which most be condemned by officials, immediately.

Regrettably, these are not the actions of one or several disturbed
individuals acting on their own, but rather, public employees carrying
out the orders of local authorities. Citizens all around the world demand
that ALL those guilty of this unconscionable and appalling act be held accountable.

The fate of an overpopulation of stray animals is one that challenges communities
everywhere. But in a country that considers itself "civilized" this is as barbaric
and uncivilized as you can get. Animals, like people, are capable of suffering
and feeling pain. Certainly compassion exists somewhere, among citizens who find
such actions abhorrent. It is your duty, your responsibility to see that laws
governing cruelty to animals are enforced so that animals are treated humanely.

I urge you to act at once.

Sincerely,

..............

Germany

Greece Day4 Friday brought a few very welcome and unexpected amusements. An early bus got us to Ioaninna midday, where animal welfare activist Mary O’Connor met us at the station and drove us to a hotel behind the ancient stone wall of the original center of town, which dates back to the 400s, she told us. An afternoon with Mary’s menagerie cheered us after days of dealing with sadder stuff. Originally from New Zealand, Mary and her Greek pharmacist husband now live in a lovely home on a hillside outside the town. Greece has no governmental agencies dedicated to animal welfare and no organizations comparable to the ASPCA or Humane Society. So, like others we’ve talked to this week, Mary jumped in where she saw a glaring need and suffering she couldn’t ignore. Today, she’s one of a handful of women in this small town who feed packs of strays in certain locations; catch, neuter and release dogs; answers calls to pick up sick, hurt animals. We plan to follow her on as much of this as we can in the next day and a half. But first we play. It’s a bit like Christmas as Mary, surrounded by four dogs and various cats and kittens, unpacks the bag we brought. Samera, a gentle sheepdog whose right ear and tail were cut off before she was dumped, it’s the first time to play with a toy. She catches on quickly, and does the doggy head tilt – the international canine symbol for “Huh?” – when the stuffed shoe in her mouth suddenly bursts into song. Too soon, we’re off again. Mary has one kitten with a broken leg that was set by the vet. Now, the pin is coming loose so we take the cat to the vet, who decides to wait a bit longer. We’ve also picked up Vesthina along the way. She’s one of Mary’s few loyal and dependable helpers, who has a pack of her own dogs at her home. After the vet, we go to investigate a call Vesthina got that there was an injured dog living near a dumpsite on the road to Egomounitza, a port city about 90 kilometers away. The lady has told them that the big dog has a problem with its leg. So all of us, including the kitten in the carrier, hit the road. We find a dumpsite, with buckets working as makeshift food and water bowls amid the trash strewn landscape. Mary and Vesthina start to coo and call, and suddenly a German Shepherd emerges up the hill, shaking with happiness but wary of the unknown. He starts to eat and Mary and Vesthina eventually get a collar around his neck and get him in the car. It’s too late to get the dog to the vet, and there doesn’t seem to be much wrong with the dog, so it’s decided that Vesthina will take her in for the night. A dark car pulls in behind us as we’re getting ready to leave. A woman gets out. We learn she’s Georgia, the woman who called about the dog. She’s in tears, and we later learns she’s afraid there’s something badly wrong with the dogs leg. We don’t see anything wrong with the leg, and wonder why Georgia didn’t take the dog herself. It’s largely cultural, says Mary, who has pretty much had it with these attitudes. They’re afraid, she says, that the dog will contaminate the car in some way, and she obviously hasn’t a clue how to go about picking up the obviously friendly pet. Later, Mary tells us, very few if any of the animals they find are feral. Almost all dogs here are catchable because they’re all formerly owned pets. Her push here to educate neighbors to get dogs and cats neutered seems to be working slowly, she says. Dog owners a few years ago who wouldn’t have dreamed of fixing their animals now show up to do it or at least ask Mary to have it done. Many still don’t pay, she says, so the money comes out of her pocket but at least it gets done. It seems money and cultural misconceptions are the two biggest stumbling blocks to fixing the problem here in Ioaninna. When the government occasionally provides money for a spay and neuter clinic, for example, suddenly every vet in town wants a piece of the business, she says. Unfortunately, because spaying and neutering has been rare to non-existent, many of the vets here don’t know how to do it. The result can be that a clinic and service that’s supposed to be a good thing can actually turn out to be another danger to the lives of the dogs. And, she says, she often has it done on “owned” dogs, as well as taking care of treating wounds and illness. The neighbors accept it but don’t offer to pay for it, she says, even if they’ve got the money. All through our trip, we’ve seen glimmers like this that things might be getting better slowly. But it’s baby steps and huge obstacles remain from the government and fringe groups that object and make trouble. Meanwhile, the caring people we’ve met who do this work daily keep putting out the fires as the come. _____________________________________________________________
	Greece Day3 Anastasia picks us up at our hotel early Thursday, just after sunup and before the day’s heat becomes too intense. Our first stop is Dimitris’ shelter, the one we visited the day before, to pick up two smallish dogs bound eventually for new homes Germany. The pups come with us to her land – a piece of property in a hillside village outside Patra, where the dogs she fosters can roam. They’ve got a fenced in enclosure with shady areas, and can run even more freely during Anastasia’s twice daily visits. At 31, the activist holds a civil engineering degree and works for an international oil company – that is when she’s not giving her hours and days to the furry creatures she loves. With the two latest additions, the property she bought for a song not long ago now houses 15 dogs, most of whom run together in a pack. Most look healthy, but the couple of sick ones seem very sick. Truffa, a 2-year-old Greek Shepherd, has leishmaniasis, a serious protozoal disease transmitted from dog to dog by sand flies. He lies listless in his old battered crate. His previously black face is missing fur in patches, his marks now resembling those of a burn victim. Anastasia pulls him out to medicate and the view gets worse as our eyes move towards the dog’s bony rear. Raw patches of flesh look angry and painful, though Anastasia tells us he was worse before. She has been giving him pills for the disease for a month. She’ll continue for another 30 days and, if Truffa gets better still, she’ll take him to the vet for a course of injections to ensure the disease is gone for good. So many moments of this trip get touchy as cultures and ideas clash and we bite our tongues and try to figure out a diplomatic way to ask people doing such saintly and needed work why they don’t put the dog out of his misery as we would likely do. Just since we’ve been here, Dimitris has told us stories of two of his dogs that came down with Parvo, a serious virus. One died from the disease and the other was ailing at the vet. That dog is at the same hospital where we took 11-year-old Mitras who was diagnosed yesterday with Erlichia and was on the verge of kidney failure. Dimitris still can't decide whether to euthanize the old dog, and tears come to his eyes when he tries. Truffa’s serious condition aside, Anastasia’s land offers a nice contrast from the shelter we toured with Dimitris the day before. Without chains, the dogs are calmer and as the morning quickly grows warmer the pups mellow out by the time we leave, after Anastasia fills water buckets and scoops poop. Anastasia will eventually build a house on this land, she says, but before then she plans a couple more fenced areas. Many of the dogs on her land are smaller – what we’d consider mid-sized – and more easily adoptable to homes in Germany they’re destined for soon. It’s another contrast to too many of the bigger chained dogs back in Patras, who can exist in limbo for years waiting for their forever families. The afternoon brings a bigger contrast, as we meet up again with Dimitris and head to a shelter on the campus of the university where he teaches. The shelter is run by a different animal welfare society, and the finishing of the huge facility, with its rows and rows of concrete-floored, fenced in bays was paid for by a wealthy Greek shipping family, Dimitris tells us. It’s separate from the Achaic Animal Welfare Society that was started by Dimitris and others in 1994, after deciding the first group cared more about image and getting public money than doing good for the dogs. It’s a palace compared to anywhere else we’ve been so far – but there are catches, we hear from Dimitris and Anastasia and other animal activists. Today, dogs are barking all around as we walk in, a deafening din spurred by our arrival. They’re mostly strays picked up on or near campus, as people know the shelther is here and so they drop them off. Many eventually disappear, he says, and very little evidence of adoption is ever provided. Dimitri and others strongly suspect the shelter euthanizes, although a director who is there tells us in a good week they find Greek homes for three of the pups. She tells us that adopting them in Germany and other countries, as Achaic now does, is “too complicated.” The place is clean, with space for many more dogs than are housed there now. Still, Dimitris says, they turn away dogs and often call him to come take strays away. This day, we see Kimon, a dominant male who for years lived outside Dimitris' office building, often playing with his then-toddler son who is now 11. In recent years, though, Kimon has started to roam and is now in the shelter. The director has asked him to come and take the dog to the vet - she suspects an illness, she says. Dimitris believes it's more likely that they just want the dog out of there. But, we take him to the vet who clips his nails, takes some blood and sends us on our way. We show up back at the shelter - all five us, two of us armed with cameras. They take Kimon back - Dimitris has determined that none of his usual temporary places have room and this place is better than a chain at his shelter. Besides, he says, they know him and so he doesn't fear that Kimon will disappear as he believes so many of the others will. All day, as we visit these new places, our minds jump back to the chained animals we saw the day before. We want to help, and over a late dinner with Anastasia and Dimitris, we come up with a tentative plan to begin getting some dogs to the states - we'll tell you more on that in the days to come. _____________________________________________________________
	Greece Day2 You hear them before you really see them. As you get out of the car in the wooded spot just feet from the sea, the barking starts – a cacophony that gets louder as you begin to make out the jumping shapes, then hone in on the hopeful faces. Though their chains leave them only about three feet to move in any direction, for the most part their eyes gleam with trust. Many show a bit of interest in the treats offered, but all are much more intent on the attention. Food they have – it’s the petting and sweet talk and hugs these dogs crave from visitors. Like the trash that accumulates around them on the property, these dogs in Patras have been tossed away after the new baby came or the puppy cuteness wore off or the freedom for a summer vacation became more important than keeping the dog given months ago as a Christmas gift. And sadly, in Greece’s third largest city, these are the lucky ones. They’ve been rescued by volunteers from the Animal Welfare Society - people who love them and hope to find them homes in Germany or the United Kingdom. That hope keeps these mostly healthy and bright-eyed pups chained to trees or inside a 3,000-square-foot fenced and concrete block enclosure, as Dimitris, Krista, Maria and Anastasia work to find them families. Dimitris Karabalis, an engineering professor at the university here, helped start the society in 1994 and revive it in 2000 after a couple years of flagging activity. Today, his wallet is full of bills to be paid from a meager budget that includes 30,000 euros annually from the city’s mayor and another few thousand from Germany- and UK-based rescue groups that also help the dogs find homes. In addition, Dimitris tells us, 10 members of the society chip in monthly fees of between 30 and 80 euros apiece. Fifteen years ago, Patras had only one vet and no spaying or neutering services. People would ignore sick or injured animals, or shoot or poison them. Today in Patras - a major shipping port to Italy - there are 15 or so vets, he said, two of whom offer low-cost spaying and neutering services to the dogs and cats the society brings them. On this visit to the shelter, loyal staffer Yiota is giving the dogs inside a bath with the hose – relief from the sweltering heat. Ursus, a big black bear of a dog turns teddy bear when visitors come with hugs. The chorus of barks grows louder as a we make our way inside, from dogs Yiota has christened with names like Marlon (after Brando, she says) and Adonis. Yiota, an elderly woman who wears knee-high rubber boots as she works, her typical uniform twice a day as she comes to feed and clean and spend time with the dogs. She’s paid, but only about 250 euros a month, Dimitris tells us. A few things happen as we’re touring the shelter with Dimitris – the first one gives a glimmer of hope in a country where love and compassion for animals grows by baby steps. A man and his young daughter drive in on a motor bike. The little girl – she can’t be more than 4 or 5 – goes over to pet one of the outside dogs. In the past, Dimitris tells us, the pair would drive in and look but it’s the first time the little girl is allowed to pet one of the pups. She’s clearly delighted and waves happily when they drive away – one of the next generation’s animal caretakers, we hope. Soon the colder side of the world comes back, when a young couple drive in and try to give Dimitris their dog. It’s just for a few days, they say. The landlord is kicking them out because of the dog, so they must move to new digs and then they’ll be back. Dimitris has heard it all before, he says. He has to turn them down. Just as he has learned that he can’t take in all the healthy strays and must focus on the most needy, he knows that if he takes this dog he’ll have to take all the other suddenly unwanted ones who drive in. “If I take it in, tomorrow there will be 10 more,” he says. He also knows, he says with frustration, that he’s sacrificing a beautiful pup. Because he turned them down, they’ll leave the dog someplace else – a mountainside or the middle of the street. If it’s lucky, the dog will end up at the shelter anyhow, perhaps tied up there in the middle of the night. We go from anger back to sadness soon. For more than five years, the shelter has been home to an 11-year-old apparent Shepherd mix who was named after him then called “Mitros” for short. The pup has epilepsy and, while his seizures have been controlled by medication, he’s been impossible to find a home for. Now, though, an Englishwoman who has visited twice in as many years has finally decided she loves the Mitros enough to take him home. Because of the UK’s health requirements, there’s a six-month waiting period after the rabies shot – Mitros will have to wait out the summer before heading to his forever home in time for Christmas. No sooner do we hear this story than we see that Mitros isn’t acting right – he’s laying in his little dog house, head in his food dish and eyes unfocused. Dimitris rouses him and pulls him out, but he’s slow to get to his feet and his walking is erratic. We call vet John Zapantes then head to his office with the dog. He does a cursory exam and sees signs of a brain tumor, he says. He takes blood and we’ll find out today if Mitros has something that’s treatable. If not, he’ll diagnose a brain tumor. Dimitris is visibly shaken, but later says he knows what he’ll have to do if it is a tumor and it breaks his heart, especially after recent events with another long-time favorite. He tells us about Lucy, another hard-to-place rescue who finally found a home in Germany. The frustration comes back to his voice yet again. He found Lucy in 2000, scratching at a container for food in the street. She lived a meager existence at the shelter for seven years before finding a home in May with a recent widow who lavished her with love and care. Two months later, she was dead of a tumor. “She found a home and she didn’t have a chance to enjoy it – I cried and cried for Lucy.” _____________________________________________________________
	Greece Day1 We began the day unsure of what day it actually was – 11 hours of flying will do that. We ended the night more certain than ever of our mission’s importance, after hearing firsthand from an activist who has been fighting to help Greece’s abandoned dogs and cats for 22 years. The day – the first in Greece for Heidi, Connie and Janet – was one of contradictions. As we strolled the blazing mid-afternoon streets of downtown Athens, jet lagged and looking forward to a revitalizing night’s sleep, we happened upon an apparently contented cat and a handful of pups along the way. All the dogs we saw wore collars and tags and, while they also wore that hot summer day ennui, none were panting or being kept from shade. One tired guy lay still as Heidi petted and cooed – afterward, a man nearby who could have been the dog’s guardian claimed homelessness and asked for 50 cents. The next corner brought the sight of a man hosing down his big blond dog, whose whole body vibrated as he joyously shook off the sheets of water and stood ready for more. In the days to come, we know the pictures we’ll see won’t be nearly so sweet and illustrative of the pleasant if scorching dog days of summer. Indeed, we saw previews of what’s to come later on, after dinner with activist Areti Papastavrou at a taverna several blocks from our hotel – both of which have stunning views of the Acropolis, a major tourist stop and a monument to the part Greece has played in creating modern civilization. Eight stray dogs currently call Areti’s Athens apartment home. Twelve others live in one “camp”, 22 in another, eight more are in foster homes and she’s caring for 35 to 40 more strays in the street. Recently, she spent $400 of her own money to ship a dog to a new home in Germany. She’s been sued four times over her work, tying up more money in legal fees, not to mention the time she has to spend fighting, she says. She’s struck daily by the contradictions that face her in the volunteer work she squeezes in around her full-time high-school teaching schedule. In April, when an opponent complained about a shipment of more than 100 dogs heading to Germany where adoptive families waited, Italian authorities seized the pups, who are now growing older in shelter limbo there instead of with the eager families, many of whom have by now given up. In contrast to that sudden capricious enforcement of law in the face of dubious claims of “stealing” Greece’s stray dogs, what hinders her in her work much more often is the lack of any enforcement when it comes to animal cruelty laws, she says. During our meal, Areti also explained that some things are different in Athens than they used to be – visitors are much less likely to see ill, abused strays than they were before the 2004 Olympic Games shone a spotlight on the city. At that time, several thousand dogs disappeared, allegedly taken to shelters and eventual homes. Areti and her fellow activists sought evidence from the government several times, but never got any kind of proof that Greece did right by those pups. Today, she said, houses in the city can cost more than Manhattan real estate, and many of the new wealthy residents are dog lovers – they’re not afraid of police and politicians, she said, so it’s easier for them to get animal welfare laws enforced. Still, some actions the city took in 2004, including removing public watering holes for strays, haven’t been reversed yet. In the 90-plus heat of July afternoons, strays have few places to go for clean water. Some of the sights we saw on the walk back broke our hearts, like the big mutt who obviously claims at least one German Shepherd in his ancestry. War wounds – some old, some fresh – scarred his face. As we got closer, he began to stir and we could see he had been too tired to get up and relieve himself. We’ll never know if the man who appeared and shooed the pup up the street after he saw our camera worked for one of the tavernas on the street or just generally wanted to keep tourists’ distress over the situation to a minimum. But here’s one thing we know for sure - the need for the work of Areti and her fellow volunteers is as great as it was when she began as a college student in 1985. In the coming weeks and months, we’ll detail more of her work and how you can help. In the coming days, we’ll share some more of our experiences as we travel to several more towns and meet with others like her. Tonight, we’ll just close with a quote that illustrates how frustrating the work can be when her country’s pride, corruption or contrary interests get in the way of saving animals and getting them to the homes they deserve. “If people have the right to take a baby from an orphanage in Greece to a German family who will give it a good home, then it’s ridiculous to say they can’t adopt a dog from the same country and give it just as good a home,” she said. _____________________________________________________________

	The Greece Journal was started in July 2007, following Heidi and the group and their efforts to change attitudes among the humans who can make a difference in the dogs’ lives. Watch this space to follow the daily reports that willl be posted here.