A pet hate

@wwaycorrigan

[For an audio/vlog version of this story, click here.]

A farmer's work is never done. Be it tillage or livestock, caring for animals and crops is a perpetual process.

Anyone who has worked on a farm appreciates — or at least should appreciate — this.

Cute but costly.

Therein lies a problem in today's urban-centric world. Many people haven't worked on a farm. They do little to nothing to produce the food they eat. And no, driving to the supermarket or, for the more affluent and smug, the farmers' market is not a step in the production of foodstuffs.

So it wouldn't be the worst idea ever mooted to have city dwellers, particularly the wealthier ones who will most likely rise to positions of influence and power, spend a year of their young lives labouring on a farm.

In this way, they might acquire a greater appreciation for the work required to keep the masses, rich and poor, munching contentedly.

Even better, with more hands-on labourers, the use of that damaging, polluting farm machinery would be reduced. It's one way to address the pullulation of princes and princesses which has resulted in a paucity of proles in high-income nations.

Virtuous vegans

Yet, for those earmarked to serve their time on livestock farms, I've no doubt there would be a fair few conscientious objectors.

The objection: 'Raising animals for human consumption is a cruel and immoral practice, and one that also causes substantial environmental damage. Today's humans don't need meat and other animal products to survive. Thus, to partake in livestock farming is to knowingly and unnecessarily destroy the planet as we know it. I shall have no part in it whatsoever.'

Many who hold this view practice what they preach. They don't eat meat, and some don't even consume food from farmed animals that must be kept alive to get their produce, such as dairy products and eggs.

The vegetarian/vegan versus omnivore debate is far from novel. A recent renewal of it can be heard on BBC Radio 4's Moral Maze.

'The worst of these activists are those with an aggressive mongrel who believe that their little ball of fur is the God of dogs.'

I've mentioned before on these pages that many in the comfortable classes could do with eating less meat. Some could do with eating less, full-stop.

Also, as somebody who was raised on a small cattle farm, I do realise that some livestock holders could, indeed should act in a more environmentally friendly way. What's more, in certain areas, cattle-raising is perhaps not the best use of the land at one's disposal.

So, I'm not unsympathetic to certain elements of the vegetarian/vegan stance.

Dog dinner

Where I do cry foul — and f·o·w·l —however, is with the militant-esque no-more-meat activists who are also pet owners, particularly those who keep cats and/or dogs.

If one is vehemently against livestock farming in terms of cruelty and environmental damage, these same arguments can be aimed at pet owners.

Speaking about domesticated dogs specifically, most of them, particularly in urban areas, only get out and about when allowed to by their owners. They're not exactly free, are they? Their wild cousins in Africa would surely view such an existence as, at best, restrained.

OK, pet dogs are just that. They've been kept for centuries as human companions. Some of them are put to work, so they're not just a drain on the planet's finite resources. They contribute, they provide a tangible benefit. In certain parts of the world, people make a meal out of their mutts: not a dog's dinner but an actual dog dinner.

Yet, most dogs around today are pets and pets only. It's why, from the perspective of humans who like to be controlled and have most of their concerns taken care of by someone else, we have the expression, 'It's a dog's life.' (If I had to be one or the other, I'd choose to be a wild dog rather than one tied to a Homo sapien.)

These pets, of course, have to be fed and watered.

Carnivorous curs

According to Gregory Okin, a professor from the University of California Los Angeles quoted in an earth.org article, it's estimated that an average-sized dog generates 770 kg of carbon dioxide equivalent (CO2e) emissions annually. For an even bigger dog, the figure can be upwards of 2,500 kg, which is twice as much as the emissions from the use of a standard family car per year. An average-sized cat, for the record, can produce carbon dioxide emissions of about 310 kg in a year.

That earth.org article also states that the meat consumption of pets in the US generates about 64 million tonnes of carbon dioxide annually, the equivalent of driving 13.6 million cars. If cats and dogs in the US were their own country, they would rank in the top six for meat consumption globally. (Another piece that delves into this area is The Guardian's Throw a dog a bean: how to reduce the carbon footprint of your pets. See, I'm not completely anti-The Guardian.)

This should give some pause for thought to any cat- and/or dog-owning vegan activist who hounds pet-less meat-eaters. One may not be as green as one thinks.

In my experience, the worst of these activists are those with an aggressive mongrel who believe that their little ball of fur is the God of dogs. A my-pet-can-do-no-wrong green Gestapo. It's often the case that the most vociferous on a certain topic are the most hypocritical.

Thus, it can be argued that farming livestock is closer to a net benefit for humanity, and perhaps even the environment overall, than keeping pets.

If we had to scrap one and keep the other, would humanity suffer more from the loss of pets or the loss of livestock?

Human consumption of dog meat might shoot up around the world if the latter were to come to pass.
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San Juan de Rioseco: Only its river runs (almost!) dry

@wwaycorrigan

[For an audio/vlog version of this story, click here.]

When travelling in Colombia, one is best not to put too much faith in expected journey times, particularly those sourced from the likes of Google Maps and with Bogotá as the origin.

'Oh look, that town is only 100 kilometres away and Google Maps says it takes about two hours to get there. Great!'

Eh, good luck with that.

The bullfighting ring is easy to see, but can you spot the main church?

About the only way such an arrival time could be realised is if you use private transport i.e. your own vehicle or contract a driver, and leave in the early hours of the morning.

Failing that, you face tumultuous traffic whilst traipsing topsy-turvy roads on buses that appear programmed to stop every couple of kilometres or so. These stop-happy buses are usually at their worst on journeys over shorter distances, but even on longer trips the compulsion to occasionally stall presents itself. (On those lengthier trips, it can go from sluggishly slow to fear-inducing fast, as I explained in Colombia's plebeian transport: A riveting ride.)

Having spent the majority of my adult life in Colombia and having travelled here fairly extensively, I should be accustomed to all this. However, one's formative years leave a mark.

Thus, when I see that a place is around 100 km from my base, my Irish mind tells me that the trip should take no more than two hours. Accounting for the Andes' bendy declines and inclines, I add a generous hour to that. Yet, even with that, I'm often still left frustrated at how long the journey ends up lasting.

Río Seco's feet fish

So it was for my recent trip to San Juan de Rioseco, about 60 km west of Bogotá as the crow flies — around 100 km on the road — and a daytime journey that Google Maps calculates at 2 hours 45 minutes.

Yet it took a painstaking hour and 45 minutes just to get to Facatativá, a town less than 40 km from the capital's main bus station, Terminal Salitre. Add to that the hour it took me to get from my Bogotá accommodation to the bus terminal and the total time on the road was over five hours. A mediocre 20 km per hour. (Leaving San Juan de Rioseco at 10 am on a Sunday proved more efficient. It took just three hours to get to Terminal Salitre.)

With all that in mind, one-night escapes from Bogotá are more hassle than they are worth.

As it was, I had three nights in San Juan de Rioseco. While I liked the place and its people, such a stint was enough when one has little reason to be there only to check it out. I'm particularly budget-conscious these days, too, so that played a factor in my more limited stay.

'Bullfighting trumps God from this outlook.'

San Juan's closest watercourse, the not-entirely-accurately-named Río Seco, River Dry — some water flows through it, enough for small, feet-nibbling fish to thrive — and after which the town is named, is insufficient for a refreshing dip.

In the likes of the smaller San Luis de Gaceno, one can waste away a few hours, cost-free, enjoying the nearby river. The lack of such a natural attraction in San Juan de Rioseco only increases the temptation for a few daily cooling-off beers. That's not great when one is trying to reduce one's overall beer consumption.

There is a swimming pool open to the public but in such warm lands I prefer a natural river or suchlike in which to bathe. Two advantages of the natural option are that it's free and, normally, one can seek out a quiet spot away from any splashing and screaming children. And adults.

Mentioning rivers, on a clear day the majestic Magdalena can be seen from certain points in the town. In fact, I was told that in the same direction the snowcapped Nevado del Ruiz also presents itself. Alas, the view was hazy throughout my stay. A faint glimpse of the Magdalena was as good as it got for me.

Coffee highs

There was no such visual impairment of San Juan de Rioseco itself. The most impressive view is from a perch just off the principal road into the town where the bullring grabs the greatest attention, outdoing the church on the main square (see video, below). Bullfighting trumps God from this particular outlook.

By taking the La Balsa route up to the Cambao-Vianí road, you get a more panoramic vista of the town and countryside at Mirador el alto del ángel, the High Angel Viewpoint, or something like that. There, the angels and God put the bullring in its place.

Had I been more adventurous I could have at least walked to Vianí, 16 km east of San Juan on the road back to Bogotá. From the glimpses I got of it whilst passing through, it looked like a respectable enough town.

A walk to Cambao is more of a stretch, sitting 36 km to the west on the banks of the Magdalena as it is. These are places to visit in their own right on another occasion. Walks in and around San Juan de Rioseco satisfied my wanderlust this time.

That many establishments in the town know how to brew quality coffee makes it easier to hang about. As I've oft-mentioned, not every Colombian pueblo has mastered the art of preparing decent, unsweetened coffee.

The somewhat bohemian craft coffee shop, Buáni Café on the main square, which cultivates its own beans, is the standard-bearer. Yet, even some of the plebeian panaderías make acceptable brews. Considering two of them occupy spaces in a building called Casa del Café, House of Coffee, it's only right that they do serve out a cuppa that doesn't seem like a chore to drink.

August Agosto

Now, not that I was in search of one, but it seems that San Juan has no tourist information centre. As it turned out, a chance encounter with affable Agosto within minutes of my arrival resulted in my getting sufficient info to meet my modest needs.

After initially and curiously asking me if I wanted to buy a Renault Laguna — I don't think I had the appearance of somebody on the lookout for a car — he pointed me in the direction of one of the more affordable hotels in the town, Hotel Central. (25,000 pesos for a basic room with private bathroom and, just as important these days, a good internet connection. Plus, the owner, Alcira, was very hospitable.)

Subsequent serendipitous meetings with Agosto saw him tell me about the La Balsa walk and the best route down to the river. On my second day in the town, he even suggested that I could stay in his spare room. I gave that a miss, though. Hotel Central was more than adequate, fairly quaint and far from extortionate.

More than adequate, fairly quaint and far from extortionate: This works as a motto for San Juan de Rioseco itself. It's just best not to do it as a mere day trip from Bogotá.
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Boosting dental health

@wwaycorrigan

[For an audio/vlog version of this story, click here.]

A nuclear war. A devastating earthquake. Severe floods. England winning the football World Cup. A dental appointment. The mere thought of certain events occurring can make many of us shudder.

What is the tooth behind good dental health?

Handling the tooth

So it was with some trepidation that I faced the last of those traumas listed, self-inflicted as it was, having organised a check-up with my dentist for the first time since May 2022. Is an almost two-year gap a long time to leave between dental visits? In any case, for such matters, I generally operate a policy of, 'If it all seems fine and there's no pain, then it is fine'.

I booked this appointment chiefly for aesthetic reasons. Indeed, it's rarely been because of pain that I've sought oral care. The majority of my visits have emanated from issues with the false front tooth I've had to live with since I was 14. Teenage discos in Ireland can be — or at least they used to be — tetchy, tooth-damaging affairs.

What often happens, though, is that when I go to my dentist to just get something tidied up with the false tooth, she finds an exigency or two elsewhere.

'Oh Brendan, have you not felt any pain back here?'
'Eh, no. Well, I hadn't until you started digging and drilling at it.'

Dentist knows best.

Thus, it was quite surprising when on this latest visit she asked me if I had been seeing someone else — another dentist, that is, in his/her professional capacity only.

'So used had I become to the need for consecutive visits, it was a bit of an awkward goodbye.'

She seemed taken aback by the lack of pressing needs inside my mouth. I assured her of my fidelity to her. As referred to previously, I don't exactly seek out extra-dental affairs.

So having done what I wanted her to do — maintenance on the false tooth-and-a-half — off I went with no return appointment needed.

In fact, so used had I become to the need for consecutive visits, it was a bit of an awkward goodbye.

'So, when will I see you again?'
'You'll know when the time comes.'

And that was that.

One cynical way to view it is like an under-fire football manager getting the backing of the board of directors. 'We have full confidence in the gaffer to get through this.' Gaffer gets sacked the next day.

Something similar could happen with my receipt of a clean bill of dental health. 'You can't handle the tooth!' Quite!

No dental dictator

More positively, I have been thinking about what might be at play if it is indeed the case that my teeth and gums are in better shape these days.

One potential factor is intermittent fasting. I have been more conscious about snacking, grazing if you will, over the last 18 months or so, to the point where I try to regularly go at least 16 hours without ingesting food. I'm guessing the mouth, as it is believed to be so for other parts of the body, gets some benefit from not being under constant bombardment by having to break down foreign substances.

I've also been trying to drink more water and less beer. Without really keeping a strict tab on it, I'm not sure how successful I've been on this front. All the same, I think my booze consumption has fallen compared to a few years ago.

Then there have been my attempts to cut back on starchy carbohydrates and certain, more sugary fruits. OK, some may say the vitamin benefits from the fruits outweigh any potential tooth damage. That may be so, but the vitamins found in many of them can be sourced elsewhere, from various vegetables, for example.

Another small change I've introduced of late has been the use of a bit of bicarbonate of soda when brushing with my regular toothpaste. I started doing this after reading about the potential harms of many of the chemicals in standard toothpaste. OK, I haven't cut out toothpaste altogether but I use a smaller amount now when brushing. I did, though, experiment for a while with lemon and vinegar as toothpaste alternatives, in addition to the bicarbonate of soda.

One thing that I don't do and never really have done is flossing. Yes, I'm not a flosser. To some tooth tyrants, such neglect is a mortal sin. To each their own, I say. I'm not a dental dictator.

All I'm trying to figure out here is what were the factors that may have led to my apparent improvement in oral hygiene over the last couple of years or so.

And I know full well that I can't be complacent. This could all, um, blow up inside my face at any time.
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