Faith in the human race? Yeah, right.

[wordinista]

I really, really hate people right now.

I particularly hate the people who get pets, and then dump them at shelters for stupid, idiotic reasons.  While some of us are forced to say goodbye to the animals we love, these fucking nitwits just ditch them without another thought. 

Went to the ... well, we thought it was the Humane Society, but it was actually the County animal shelter.  Anyway, went there on Saturday because I was told by someone at the 24 hour ER clinic that the Humane Society sold handmade urns, so we were going to go check it out.  I joked that it would be a miracle if I didn't come home with a new kitten.  As it turns out, I didn't.  But we may be bringing something else home.  Something else a little bigger.  And Australian Shepherd-shaped.

But here's the thing that's tearing me up inside.

Okay, we went in to look at the dogs, and I figured I'd be totally immune, because 99% of the dogs are usually some sort of Pit Bull mix, and while I do not blame the breed itself for its bad reputation, I... just think they're ugly dogs.  So, really, no temptation there.  And then we turned a corner and found a whole 'nother aisle of dogs.  And that's where we saw Sammy.

Sammy is about a year and a half old.  She's a black-tri, female (duh), and spayed.  She is  a petite thing, evidenced by her delicate little paws and slender legs.  The rest of her, however, weighs 68 lbs.  Let me put that into perspective -- Darwin, who is big for the breed, weighs about 50 lbs. She was also incredibly, incredibly stressed out.  She was pacing her cell, panting hard, and only after George and I both crouched down and started talking to her, did she lay down against the door and start to breathe a little more normally. 

...

We left the shelter -- made ourselves leave.  But last night, as we were cuddled up in bed, and Darwin was cuddled up on HIS bed, George brought up Sammy, who was sleeping on concrete that night.  I've never seen him so choked up.  Not since Bronte.

So, much of today was spent trying to locate Sammy on the shelter's list of adoptable pets.  Since she was only brought in Thursday, I wasn't sure if she'd be on the website yet, and when I couldn't find her, George asked me to call the shelter anyway, and if she wasn't available, then he asked if I'd ask after a 3 year-ol Bassett Hound mix named Norman.  

Well, I've found them both on the website.  And now I have to choose between one dog and another, because some other idiot was fucking irresponsible.  (Case in point -- we had a cold snap recently, and several nights that actually got down below freezing.  George overheard someone talking to a shelter employee about people who had dropped off animals in the outdoor drop-off cages during the cold snap.  WHAT THE FUCK.  I MEAN.  WHAT THE FUCK, PEOPLE.) And, god damn it, if I had the room, I'd be adopting them both.  And the six year old Springer Spaniel mix, too.

Dammit.  

DEAR WORLD AND THE PEOPLE IN IT:  PLEASE STOP SUCKING.

Comments

[darkfrog24.livejournal.com]

We had a lot of stray cats in our neighborhood one year. Turns out people a block or two off had moved away. Just left 'em there. In a place chock full of edible rodents, but still, just left 'em there.

I don't have time or resources and I'm going to be moving a lot. So guess what: I have a pet PLANT.

[w0rdinista.livejournal.com]

I've heard of that. I... I don't get it. At all.

I also heard a story last night about people LEAVING THEIR ANIMALS IN THE HOUSE WHEN THEY MOVE. I mean... what the hell is up with that? LOCKED IN THE HOUSE.

Sadly, I have better luck keeping animals alive than plants. I have very bad luck with plants. ...Possibly because you cannot give a dog too much water.

[darkfrog24.livejournal.com]

My precious Bud has been ailing recently. He's not quite green enough around the gills. But still, I've found that hardy outdoor ivy like him is remarkably hard to kill. I've had Bud for six or seven years. I bet I could send you a cutting. Just keep it in a glass until the roots grow in and then chuck water in the pot once a week. Keeps 'em happy.

[tatertott.livejournal.com]

That's what happened that brought Cleo into our lives - dumbass neighbors moved out and left her behind. We had been giving her food and water for about two weeks till we finally decided to bring her into our house, into the basement, with some food, water and litter. We decided we'd take her to the vet and then post some flyers to see if we could get her adopted.

We named her Cleo. She's our princess now.

Funny thing is, the neighbors walked by our house a few weeks after they left and I guess to get some of the guilt off of them, they stopped by to "see if I could capture their cat for them," and handed me a crate. I was like "You had 3 months to move out of your house and NOW you want her to be brought to you?"

Oh, and they admitted that they didn't really have room for her at their new place, so if I could please take the cat to the SPCA...I was livid. I just hope that they get their reward for their complete act of idiocy.