Daphne

This is a true story of a mouse who was rescued from a cosmetics testing laboratory.

Daphne lived alone in a small plastic "shoebox" cage, one of 100 in a rack, in a laboratory. Soon after she arrived at the laboratory, a person in a white coat plucked her from her cage and, roughly holding her down on the table, brought a huge pair of clippers towards her front feet and snipped off a toe. Daphne was reeling from the shock when the clippers shifted and snapped off a second toe. For a second she lost consciousness, but not long enough to block out pain or the shock of seeing her own blood flow from her mutilated foot.

A laboratory worker was showing new staff member Betsy Swart the row of shoebox cages, pointing to the mice's feet where toes were missing, and explaining casually, "We do this for identification. There's a chart on the wall showing what toes were cut for the test. This one will be used in a dermal toxic reaction test for shampoo ingredient." Betsy nodded numbly as she looked at the mouse. As the other worker moved on, Betsy noticed that the mouse was rising on her hind legs, her front paws reaching for the top of the cage at the front. Betsy paused, but seeing her colleague surging ahead, hurried to catch up.

Daphne twitched where the fur had been shaved off her back. She could not understand why she had lost part of her coat, and why her back was stinging. Sometimes, having nowhere to run, but wanting to move around to cool off the hurt on her back, she ran circles in her tiny cage, limping painfully on her maimed foot. Every time a white-coated person entered the hall, she would stretch up her hind legs and stick her nose up in the air. But only Betsy ever stopped to acknowledge her.

Betsy had been working at the laboratory for two months. Fortunately, no one discovered that she was collecting evidence of cruelty; she would soon leave and expose the laboratory abuses. Many nights at home, she cried thinking about the mice. Most seemed beyond help. They mutilated themselves frequently and appeared too distracted to notice much about their surroundings.

One mouse, though, a female whom Betsy had named Daphne, had a habit of standing on her hind legs, peering up hopefully, her front paws pushing foward, every time Betsy was near. Sometimes she had seen her running in circles from boredom, pain and frustration. Daphne, Betsy told herself, is not too far gone to save.

One day, very close to the time that she was to leave her job at the laboratory, Betsy surreptitiously slipped Daphne into her lab coat pocket, walked into the parking lot and drove home.

Daphne had a new home, with her own little house where she had places to run; she had learned to get around quickly despite missing toes. She had branches, yarn and other toys to play with and, instead of the dull laboratory pellets, she now got all kinds of things to eat, including oats, bread, raisins and dates, and one of her favorites, alfalfa. By the time she died an old mouse, it was unlikely that Daphne could any longer remember her miserable beginnings, so full had her later life been with games, treats, attention and love.

Courtesy of PETA

If anyone is interested in obtaining a list of cosmetic companies that test on animals and those that do not, please send a stamped self-addressed envelope to THE SPCA, 31 Mount Vernon Road, Singapore 368054.