THERE are some things in life that really shouldn’t require a motivational seminar, a government campaign or a RM100,000 fine to explain.
Like, you know, don’t be cruel to animals. Simple, kan? And yet, open social media and occasionally you will see something that makes your heart drop faster than your phone battery at 2%: Cats abandoned. Dogs neglected. Animals frightened, mistreated or simply left to fend for themselves.
And you look at the screen thinking: “Eh abang, adik, kakak, aunty, uncle… what exactly did that poor creature do to deserve this?”
Malaysia has rightly strengthened the consequences for animal cruelty. Under the Animal Welfare Act 2015, serious cruelty offences can attract fines of RM20,000 to RM100,000, imprisonment of up to three years or both. There are also penalties for failing to provide proper care and welfare.
Good. Because sometimes apparently RM100,000 is the amount required to remind certain people that animals have feelings. But laws can only punish cruelty; they cannot manufacture a heart. And perhaps this is where our conversation about animals needs to be a little less complicated.
You don’t have to be an animal activist. You don’t have to adopt every stray in Malaysia. You don’t have to turn your house into a five-star feline condominium with a waiting list. But surely, sayang, we can agree not to be cruel. That really should not be asking for the moon.
Islam, too, gives us a rather beautiful framework here. Rather than treating mercy as something reserved exclusively for human beings, Islamic teachings emphasise rahmah and ihsan – compassion and doing good – towards creation.
The Federal Territories Mufti Department has specifically discussed mercy towards animals and the environment, including the responsibility to avoid harming animals and to care for their welfare. And there is something quite humbling about that.
An animal doesn’t know whether you are rich. It doesn’t care about your job title, it isn’t impressed by your new car and it certainly isn’t following your LinkedIn.
A hungry stray doesn’t need your resume; it needs food. A thirsty dog doesn’t need your philosophy; it needs water. An injured animal doesn’t need a lecture about responsibility; it needs somebody to care enough to help. That’s it.
And honestly, isn’t that what makes kindness so beautiful? You don’t necessarily get anything back. The cat isn’t going to send you a thank-you card. The stray dog isn’t going to nominate you for “Employee of the Month”. There is no trophy, no applause, no dramatic background music. You simply helped something that needed help. That should count for something.
Of course, let’s not become ridiculous about this either. Caring for animals doesn’t mean pretending every stray is harmless or that communities don’t have legitimate concerns about safety, disease or uncontrolled populations.
Those issues matter. But responsible management and cruelty are not the same thing. Sterilisation is management. Vaccination is management. Rescue is management. Working with legitimate animal welfare organisations is management. But hurting an animal because you are angry? That is not management. That is just being cruel, lah.
And here is the part that perhaps deserves a little manja lempang. If your idea of being tough is bullying something smaller and weaker than you, people, perhaps the problem isn’t the animal. Perhaps your ego needs a vet. Because cruelty isn’t strength. Anybody can use power against something that cannot fight back.
Real character is what you do when you don’t have to be kind. You don’t have to love every animal. You don’t even have to like every animal.
Some people are scared of dogs. Some are uncomfortable around cats. Fair enough. But surely we can agree that being cruel to something simply because it cannot argue back is not exactly the flex we think it is.
And maybe that is the bigger lesson. How we treat animals tells us something about how comfortable we are with power. When nobody is watching. When there is no reward. When the creature in front of us cannot complain to HR. Can we still choose gentleness?
Because compassion doesn’t have to be grand. Sometimes it is a bowl of clean water outside. Sometimes it is calling a rescue group. Sometimes it is getting an injured animal help. Sometimes it is teaching a child that a kitten is a living creature, not a toy that can be discarded when the novelty wears off.
And sometimes, if you genuinely cannot help, the kindest thing you can do is simply not make things worse. That costs nothing – zero ringgit. No QR code required, no membership subscription, no terms and conditions apply. Just a little humanity.
And perhaps that is what we need more of. Not people who love animals perfectly; just people who understand that mercy is not weakness. That responsibility doesn’t stop at our own front door.
And that the creatures sharing our streets, parks and neighbourhoods are part of this little messy Malaysian ecosystem too.
So yes, make the laws tougher. Enforce them properly. Hold cruel people accountable. But let’s hope we eventually reach a point where the law isn’t the only thing stopping somebody from hurting a helpless animal.
Because if the only reason you don’t hurt something weaker than you is the fear of a fine, we haven’t really solved the problem. We have only put a price tag on your conscience. And sayang, surely our conscience is worth more than RM100,000.
Now go put some water out for the neighbourhood cats. Makcik has spoken. The cats are thirsty. And frankly, they have enough problems without dealing with our nonsense too.
Azura Abas is the executive editor of theSun. Comments: letters@thesundaily.com