468 R Sollund they relate personally to the other animal under their ownership (Sollund 2009) This is easier when the animal in question is not placed in a cage A caged animal—a bird, for example—becomes a ‘cage bird’, and the bird (and the animal) are identified as a specific kind, through which the cage comes to define the bird and prevent the owner from seeing who the bird is The bird and the cage, in other words, become one entity An example of this is the pionus parrot who has been ‘on display’ for 16 years in a garden center in Oslo, as though he were just another plant adorning the space This topic was highlighted in a recent verdict from Borgarting lagmannsrett [A Norwegian appeal court] (January 20, 2015) concerning trafficked and confiscated African grey parrots killed by the authorities in which the judges argued that because these birds were commonly held in cages as ‘cage birds’, they could not be encompassed under the Norwegian Wildlife Law because they could not survive in Norwegian nature According to the court, in order for an animal to be considered ‘wildlife’, he/she had to be born in Norway or, at least, be capable of surviving in Norway without human intervention Consequently, rather than being ‘wild lives’ that had been trafficked,/and the offence thus being breach of §47 of the Norwegian Wildlife law, they were considered ‘illegal goods’ that, according to the verdict from the first court instance in this case, had to be confiscated in order to enforce the CITES convention The outcome for the birds was not only that they were confiscated to set an example, but that they were killed as part of the regular procedure in Norway So even though CITES should protect endangered animals, the application of the convention in court had the adverse effect, at least at individual level The main reason, however, why these trafficking victims are not seen in a way that engenders compassion is ‘doxic speciesism’ (Sollund 2012), which creates an effective barrier against seeing animals as our next of kin—as our other When the Norwegian authorities repeatedly and continuously kill trafficking victims, they so for practical reasons—they have nowhere to put them—but also because these ‘animal others’ are objectified and not valued and regarded as subjects with rights (Benton 1998) Derridá (2002) criticizes those writers, including Lévinas, who have seen, analyzed and reflected on the animal, but who have never been seen by an animal (as he was seen naked by the cat): ‘They have taken no account of the fact that the animal could look at them, and address them from down there from a wholly other origin’ (p 382) Derridá continues by saying that he and other philosophers have made of the animal a theorem, something seen (but not acknowledged) and not seeing (p 383) In light of this, in order to see the other—the animal who is a sentient being with interests (Regan 1983)—one must acknowledge that oneself is also seen—the animal will also look at the human—and