BOLD NATIVE: a film about Animal Liberation

Today, I’m sharing the fictional film ‘Bold Native’, a movie about Animal Liberation. If you enjoy watching this film, please click on the links below it to support the filmmaker so that more movies can be produced like this one. You can also visit The Vegan Revolution channel (where I found this movie) for more re-educational information on the plight of our animals, how we can help them, and the activism going on right now; plus, how going vegan can help the planet, which—as an aside—directly helps people sensitive to chemicals. And remember, if you feel like you’re in a cage without freedom: none of us will be free until the animals are free.

More about ‘Bold Native’ from The Animal Liberation Front, and a quote from ‘Bold Native’:

“What is Freedom? Are we born free or do we earn it? And if you deny freedom to the quiet ones—those with no voice—can you be free yourself? Or are you caged by your own lack of compassion?” ~ Charlie Cranehill (played by Joaquin Pastor)…

“… an ALF member wanted by the government for domestic terrorism, emerges from the underground to coordinate a nationwide action, while his CEO father (Randolph Mantooth, Emergency) tries to find him before the FBI does. Simultaneously, a young idealist campaigns for more humane treatment of farmed animals on behalf of a large nonprofit organization, and a woman from Charlie’s past threatens to undermine his plans.

The film reflects a growing cultural debate about the use of animals for food, clothing, entertainment, and scientific research. It introduces viewers to the Animal Enterprise Terrorism Act (AETA) of 2006, a law which enables the prosecution of activists as terrorists if their actions result in economic damage to corporations in animal industries like factory farms, slaughterhouses, research labs or fur farms. In addition to narrative storytelling, the film incorporates undercover footage from labs, farms, and real-life animal liberations for stunning realism.”

Enjoy this stunning, powerful film!

Support the creators of this film with a donation or buying their merchandise on their website:

A fictional film about economic sabotage and animal liberation

Become a Patreon:)…

Michellina Van Loder is a Professional Writer, Journalist and Blogger. This is where she shares her tales about trail blazing her way out of the Labyrinth of Chemical Sensitivities and Mould. This is also where you will find the latest Research on related topics.

Prozac Nation: for dogs

Never in my life did I expect to be taking my dog to see a Psychologist. It just seemed too exorbitant… pampering a dog’s temperament like that. For Rover’s sake! It seemed like an activity that a lonely, eccentric woman from Toorak, or Mosman might practice, along with her poodle, Fee-fee Fancypants. You know, for a touch of ‘therapy’ each Wednesday afternoon at 3.

[Insert posh tone] “Fee-fee, come to Mummy!” Then, grabbing his Louis Vuitton coat hanging of the rack in the marble foyer, “We are just going out for the day.” She’d say as though contemplating Fee’s deep-seated psychological issues.

Of course, with people and their snide giggles, Fee, with his baby-blue pom-pom tail, and a head, half-shaved—the poodle en-vouge way—leaving a buoyant, baby-blue pouf at the top, causing everyone to laugh at him, was oblivious to such human cruelty. People were just happy around him.

Really, why take a dog to a Psychologist?

After 4 years running on the pet-pooch-psychology gauntlet, I know why people do this:

Myself, my partner, and our 11-month-old Boxer, and Gabrielle, the Animal Psychologist, were cornered off into a room at Lort Smith Animal Hospital, in East Melbourne. Well, Gabrielle was cornered. By our dog.

A statue of Artemis, motionless, she asked, “How long has Bella been doing this?” She avoided eye contact with the growling mess sitting on the floor.

My feet felt sweaty. The room went hot. God, I hope she doesn’t go into ‘The Zone’… I wrapped the lead tighter around my hand.

Precursors to The Zone: Bella’s intense fear of people manifested as copious amounts of drool, foaming around possum-pink gums snarled back over teeth, that often frightened even me. Then the dripping started.

Hardly couch time!

“Since she first came home.” Just as any concerned parent of the fur-kid kind would, I worried. What had I done wrong? What hadn’t I done?

Gabrielle nodded sagely, “Do you know of anything happening before that?”

“She was the runt from a litter of guard dogs used in a trucking yard. I know the other dogs took her food, or so the owner said.” I hesitated teetering on the edge of second-hand bystander guilt: neighbours who knew him said he beat his dogs, locking them in the garage as punishment, I explained…

Flashbacks: A foal needing nourishment, juxtaposed against plump siblings. Soulful brown eyes melting hearts. White socks. A white chest, and then, in tan, to match the rest of her body, was the sign: a love heart, the size of my hand. At home, we lavished love reserved for human children, until she became a normal over-entitled dog. Almost.

The zone: Bella sees a stranger, growls, drools, then as they approach, her eyes glaze over, haunted by something only she sees. We no longer exist. Then, she flips out, doing summersaults, snapping left and right, sometimes biting us if we get in her way.

My partner, Dan, relayed how when Bella first came home, “She was so frightened, she’d roll over and pee on herself. And, if left outside, she’d bloody her paws just to get in.”

“Do you know much about the parents’ temperament?”

Dan continued, “Her father would growl at the local kids as they walked past after school. Her mum was friendly, though.”

Gabrielle scribbled on the ten-page questionnaire we’d filled out prior to the $450 appointment.  “So, we have possible abuse, and genetics—often the case with these dogs.“ Her hand inched into a belted-bag. “And the reward word is, ‘Yes?’”

We nodded as Gabrielle testing it, threw a treat, “Yes,” she said as if speaking to a toddler. Bella’s head tilted, licking the dried liver, one eye on the treat, the other on Gabrielle.

“She responds well. What else does she know?”

Growls continued. Drool puddled. My shoes filled with water.

“She can beg; play dead. Loves to play soccer.” Dog school didn’t work out, so we used training DVDs.

When asked how Bella was with strangers, I explained about ‘The Zone’.

“And if you can’t help her? Would you still be willing to keep her, accepting she may be a dog who needs space, a secure yard, and a walker willing to take a detour?”

We loved her, but… I explained my fear about someone being bitten, and my worry that her fear was rebounding off of my fear.

Gabrielle suggested Bella try Prozac (Fluoxetine), and some more training—as much for us as her.

We agreed.


In Modern Dog Magazine, Stanley Coren, in ‘Pill Popping-Pups, writes, “Animal behavioural pharmacology is a growing field of research… Drugs for pets are now big business and the Pfizer Drug Company has established a companion animal division which brought in nearly a billion dollars last year.” They’re even trying to develop a beef flavoured tablet.

After six months, Bella, in a drug-induced haze, was over-sleeping, but could eat without looking over her shoulder. And while undergoing intense training, she learned to meet and make friends with family and friends, one on one.

We know that antidepressants can help re-wire the brain, however, Earo Castren at the University of Helsinki’s Neuroscience centre has this to say, “We know that a combination of antidepressant treatment and cognitive behavioural therapy has better effects than either of these treatments alone.”

Prozac gave us a window of time to work with Bella, changing her behaviour. A ‘positive reinforcement’ trainer gave this advice, “If Bella were in a pack, she’d be the dog up back, barking away, supporting the Alpha. Yet, she’s taking this on herself. That’s why she’s losing it.”

Stigma aside, a mental health check needs to be seen in the same way as a physical health check. And so, from Toorak to Mosman and from Punchbowl to St Albans, it should be for dogs too.

Medical research shows that people who are depressed, suffering a chronic illness, a disability or just settling into old age, can benefit from owning a pet far more than from taking a pill. A reply from ‘Dear Dog Lady’, in Modern Dog Magazine, explains this idea more poignantly, “Our pets provide emotional substance by just ‘being’. They’re sweeter than Prozac and much more fun.”

If only we humans could be sweeter than Prozac too. Put simply: we need to be there for our pets. For as Jennifer Messer suggests in her article, ‘Healthy Affection vs. Obsession’, “Healthy affection is but one of the ingredients for keeping your dog off Prozac.”

Even Charles Darwin, 200 years ago, believed that animals experienced emotions similar to humans.

Today, Bella’s a happy well-adjusted dog. She no longer flips out over the need to be the leader of the pack; she trusts us to stand in front and protect her. Dog psychology and pharmacology is wonderment!

Just hanging in the hood-y

Just hanging in the hood-y


 More on Bella’s Doggy Shrink:

Dr Gabrielle Carter is an American Veterinary Board certified and trained animal behaviourist who can help owners and their pets with animal behaviour issues such as separation anxiety, aggression, and repetitive and obsessive behaviour such as tail chasing. Initial consultations last up to three hours during which Dr Carter gains as much information as possible about your pet and its environment and lifestyle, its interactions with other animals, people and toys, to gain an insight into the triggers for the behavioural problems.”



Prozac Kennel

Puppy Chow is Better than Prozac

Healthy Affection vs. Obsession

Pill Popping-Pups

How to Ease Separation Anxiety in Dogs

Kids Sleeping with Dogs

Michellina Van Loder is a Professional Writer, Journalist and Blogger. This is where she shares her tales about trail blazing her way out of the Labyrinth of Chemical Sensitivities and Mould. This is also where you will find the latest Research on related topics.

Prozac Kennel

My Bella, a Boxer dog, is 3.2 years old. She has just come into being an adult dog, and into standing her own ground as a confident dog, safe in her own world. She has been on Prozac for a while now. Prozac for dogs that is. It’s a brand called Lovan, which may be a generic brand; but it’s also exactly what some human beings who are depressed, or suffering from some other psychological or mental illness, might take to help with symptoms.

When she was a pup she was so frightened of us, she would roll over and pee all over herself. So sad, really. But I relished the challenge to show this little munchkin that she was going to be okay. Besides, I’m not one for putting up with the smell of dog pee in the house, so I jumped on her behaviour quickly. The first thing I did was to behave like a dog, rolling over onto my back, into a ‘doggy’ submissive pose. I let her climb on me, chew at my clothes, and generally explore her environment without chastising her. She stopped peeing inside. Once she realised we meant her no harm, she stuck to us like we were her security blankets: she was always leaning on us or sitting on our feet. The problem was, when we went places, she would totally freak out; even in the car, looking at people through the window, she’d growl and act aggressive. We thought it was funny; we had no idea that this little puppy was totally loosing it. Eventually, we figured that because Bella was the runt of the litter, she must have had a hard time with the other dogs and, hopefully, she would just grow out of it. Instead she grew into part clown (playing most of the time), part monster (fearfully aggressive, the rest of the time).

Photo 1-01-13 7 46 11 PM

Bella really suffers with fear-aggression, erring more on the side of fear, than aggression. Until lately that is. You see, when she was first diagnosed (by an animal behaviourist and vet), she was so wrapped up in her own internal fear, that it had manifested into everything around her: the wind, people, cars, most noises, other dogs: they all frightened her. The only things that didn’t, were her own family members (the humans that are her pack now, not the family pack of dogs, from which she came), and strangely, thunder. Thunder doesn’t upset her. I find that odd. Visiting people that she doesn’t know, freaked her right out; walking down the street, with the wind blowing at her heals from behind, hunched down into her haunches, tail between her legs, looking from side to side, as if she’s about to be attacked (by wind?); walking at the beach, or on a track, passing others, and she was snapping and snarling and somersaulting and salivating, she was a mess. Once, when I tried to stop her ‘tantrum’, she turned, all wild eyes, and bit me (I took this personally, and I cried. And cried. My baby bit me and her tooth went through my fingernail; but the pain in my heart was what hurt the most. This ‘incident’ turned out to be a good thing; the shock of it strengthened my resolve to be stronger, more assertive: the dominant leader that she needs.) She really was a nutty dog. I say was:

She’s been on the Prozac for nearly a year. At first, she was also on Catapress, a blood pressure medication also used for panic disorder and symptoms of anxiety, which made her so drowsy, it was awful. She is an active dog; a jester; a ball addict; an entertainer. Loves to play. We’ve worked out that it’s a security thing too. She can be really freaked out, we throw a ball and she’s off after it. Release from her fears. (So, just like for humans, exercise can act as medication too!) After a month, when the Prozac kicked in, we took her off the Catapress, and, like the doggy version of Sleeping Beauty, she awoke from her drowsy, lazy slumber. We’ve kept her on one Prozac tablet per day for the whole time since.

Then, two weeks ago, we were running out of them, had no repeat prescription; were down at the Beach House, away from her vet. She had three days without them, and ended up a jumpy, drooling, frightened pooch who wouldn’t eat her food. I had to wonder what I had done. I would never take these tablets myself. (I can’t say never. If the problems in my life called for it, perhaps I would. I don’t know. Generally speaking, if a doctor suggested I take antidepressants for the stuff I have to deal with now, I’d slap them. No, I’d walk out, like I did at the beginning of my journey into the Labyrinth of Chemical Sensitivities, here.) But with Bella, we had tried everything: dog schools, dog trainers, dog DVDs (thanks Mum), and, we’d tried every piece of advice thrown our way. She’s ended up one clever dog. She can sit, beg, bow, fetch, get in the car, play dead, pretend to attack family members (playing), even play with a soccer ball (I mean really dribble the thing), all on command. She understands what ‘look’ means; and follows the direction we point in; she knows what some of our conversations are about: anything with the words, ‘beach’, or ‘walk’, or ‘car’, in it. And, her aggression has not been a total lost case:

There’s a method we were taught at dog school where we could introduce new people to her and her environment. This was where, using cut up pieces of cheese (or meat), we would bring the person in, ask them to sit on a stool, while not making eye contact with her (she doesn’t enjoy eye contact, finds it threatening). [Picture a growling, snarling, barking dog, jumping back and forth like it’s going to nip at you] Then, we’d get them to throw a piece of cheese at her, and when, if she took it, we would say: “Yes!” [In a tone of praise. The type you use for very young children] This would go on for 20 minutes and a whole block of cheese, or so, then, finally, Bella would be close enough to sniff them. By this time, we’ve told the person to say: “Yes!”, too. And a very cautious display of sniffing would go on, while we all stood around praising her, together: “Yes, Bella” [Sniff, sniff].”Yes!” Then, either my daughter or I would hand, said, brave visitor a ball, and tell them to throw it. And that would cause Bella to loose her cookies in a good way, running after the ball, and bringing it back to one of us. We would refuse to take it, and ask the visitor to call her. When Bella realised this person was a friend, someone who wanted to play, well, she adored them. And she never forgot. Each time they arrived, it was like she thought: Oh great. Here’s that person who loves to play ball as much as what I do! This worked for all family members and close friends. Except for the ones who were frightened of dogs, that is. For those people, we left her outside. And for children too. We’ve never trusted her around children. If she hears a child scream, she becomes fearfully aggressive, which is a scary thing for a responsible dog owner to witness! Hence trying to get her some professional help…


Us on holiday at our first Beach House together: Airlys Inlet

So on this day where she was obviously suffering either withdrawal symptoms and/or a return of her original symptoms, and, horribly, something else on top of those: her original fear was back, increased tenfold. Like a junkie’s mum out to score for her child, I had to get some more tablets for her. I rang our vet, drove down to the city and picked up the script. Since then, Bella has been on just half a tablet, and for some reason, this dose sits better with her. It makes sense: a 22 kg dog on an adult dose of Prozac, goes down to half a tablet, and her ‘mental health’ improves. I think that the vet who prescribed these must think she is a lost cause because why else give a dog medication and no follow up behavioural modification?

So that’s my new mission, to find her someone who can take her that extra kilometre, so that she can walk past people without freaking out. Now, when she walks down the street, her tail is out behind her (not between her legs), she is light on her feet (kind of walking on tiptoes, like she’s excited). Like I’ve said, she is so much better. The Beach House is on a one acre block, which agrees with her (and me). People can walk past and she just watches them. There is no growling or barking; it’s like she’s finally worked out that maybe, just maybe, she is safe in this world! (Going for a walk, past people she doesn’t know, is another thing.) She’s no longer fearfully aggressive; she’s just plain aggressive. I think, although I’m not sure, an aggressive dog is easier to handle than a frightened dog. I know that some of my readers must think I’m awful for drugging my dog, but hey, what else can I do?


Prozac Kennel

(Doggie mansion kennel source:

Michellina Van Loder is a Professional Writer, Journalist and Blogger. This is where she shares her tales about trail blazing her way out of the Labyrinth of Chemical Sensitivities and Mould. This is also where you will find the latest Research on related topics.

Information, products and views presented by guest bloggers @The Labyrinth are not necessarily the same as those held by this blog's author, Michellina van Loder. Reviews are my own personal opinions (unless stated otherwise); and satire is used throughout personal posts. Any health topics discussed are not to be taken as medical advice. Seek out medical attention if needed and do your own research; however, you're welcome to use mine as a start.
Translate »