Until we meet again.

Today broke my heart.

We lost Fiona today.

Fiona was a happy girl who had a rough start. She was overbred and was in the final stages of heartworm disease. She was lucky enough to go to foster care, and she had a great morning, found a sunny spot to lie down in, and fell asleep. She didn't wake up.

I had the joy of watching her play and play and play when she was at the shelter, and she particularly liked the big goat ball in the yard, and got her own Jolly Ball to take home. Her foster mom said she would carry it around the house because she loved it so much. She was definitely loved.

We lost Prince a few weeks ago, but it still stings. He was dumped at the shelter, was too scared for the adoption floor, and didn't make it out to foster or rescue. He was a good boy, but I knew he wouldn't make it out. I think we all knew, deep down. But we tried.

This is my buddy. He has a shelter name, but he didn't have it long enough to learn it. He started out without a name, in the back, because he came in under circumstances that kept him in shelter custody and away from public viewing. He was slated to go to the adoption floor after his hold was over, and I would talk to him when I walked by and tell him how handsome he was while he licked my hand through the bars. He reminded me of my boy.

He went to the adoption floor, but after multiple people reported that he was mouthy and hard to handle, he was removed. He's 75 lbs, and when he stands up, he's as tall as me. I found him delightful, and took him out by myself with confidence. I completely trusted him, even if I knew where all his teeth were because he put both of my hands completely in his mouth. We were getting to know each other.

That's not what got him killed, though. I could've handled a hard-headed dog, a big dog, a big hard-headed dog with poor manners. What got him killed is that he was never socialized as a puppy, and his owner never came for him. He couldn't be trusted around other animals. He was too big to risk having around other dogs; there was a risk of him redirecting and injuring someone. All of our experienced dog fosters already have dogs. The same goes for rescues. No one could take him.

I really thought he was going to make it out. From the moment I saw him, I knew he was a good dog. I'm usually pretty good at spotting dogs that won't make it. We all know the type: some combination of pit bull, big dog, unaltered, HW+, unsocialized. You work in this field long enough and you just know. Not that they're bad, but they just won't make it in a shelter environment. Even though you see the potential and you know what they need. They're not impossible, just not realistic.

The reality is, my buddy is getting put down in the morning. I spent my last moments at work with him, telling him what a good boy he is, and I drove away knowing that he won't be there when I go back tomorrow. I said "goodbye" and he said "see you next time."

Don't take this personally.

The past 48 hours have been insane. I deal with a lot of wackos at work, but yesterday took the cake for having the meanest damn people coming through the shelter. Thankfully, I have the support of my coworkers, my supervisor, and friends, so all I had to do was vent to realize that the problem wasn't me, it was the rude response of people not getting what they wanted directed at me.

Anyway, here goes:

I'm sorry, ma'am, but your new dog is an asshole.

Monday morning, a woman came to finalize the adoption on a chihuahua that was on stray hold and she had been visiting every day for almost a week. I had the pleasure of retrieving her little man and taking him to the back for his microchip. He was already neutered, but no one came for him.

First off, when I approached the kennel, he just looked at me. I had walked through two rooms of pit bulls begging for attention, and this little dog just didn't want any. I cautiously entered his kennel, closed the door behind me, and talked to him nicely while staying as far away from him as possible. He suddenly leapt up from his bed and lunged at me while snapping and snarling. He then went back to his bed, cowering, with his head in the corner, not looking at me or responding. I leashed him up without further incidence and walked him calmly back to the back of the building.

Two staff members worked to get his microchip implanted. The woman holding him actually dropped him at one point because he tried to bite her. We discussed his behavior, whether he was safe to adopt out, and decided that, if the woman was informed of his behavior and decided to adopt him anyway, that was fine.

So I walked him up to the lobby, and his reaction to her was exactly opposite the greeting he gave me. He ran to her, wagging, and jumped into her arms and showered her with kisses. I was surprised, but that's typical chihuahua behavior: they bond closely with one person, sometimes quickly, and to hell with everyone else.

I then told her the behaviors I had witnessed in the past 5-10 minutes and advised her to be very careful with him around strangers and children. If he had shown that behavior on intake, he would not have gone up for adoption. She made a face, but acknowledged the information.

Two days later, she posted this review:

I told my supervisor, and I was right to inform her of her new dog's propensity for trying to bite people. I hope he does great in his new home, despite his moron of a mom.

While I'm at it, here are a couple other unfavorable reviews that are just stupid:

Where my paparazzi at?

Seriously? You're basing your entire one-star rating on PHOTOS?! What the hell is wrong with you?! Ignore the fact that we offer a lot for our adoption fee compared to other places (spay/neuter, microchip, vaccinations); or that our euthanasia rate for adoptable animals is so low that we technically qualify as "no-kill"; or that our staff and volunteers work their butts off to ensure that the animals are happy and healthy. No. What matters is the PHOTO. I can't even.

Still mad.

Uh. Ignoring everything else, you're leaving this review two years after the fact. Seriously? That's all.

This dude hurt my feeling.

Guy came in yesterday looking for his lost cat. The cat had been missing for about two weeks, but he was just now making it to the adoption center because he saw a cat that looked like his on the website. I asked him for the ID number of the cat he had seen on the website and he told me there was no number, which is just factually not true. I gave him "a look", because I'm very expressive like that, and he looked again and said, "Oh, there it is." I asked to see a photo of his cat and agreed that the two looked very similar. I then called a kennel attendant to take him back to see if he could ID the cat.

The cat in question had come to the shelter as a stray bite cat 12 days ago. Stray bite animals are first put on bite quarantine for 10 days to ensure that they did not transmit rabies to their bite victim, then held for stray hold. They are not on the website during quarantine, but this guy would have seen his cat if he had come to the shelter in person every 2-3 days, which is what we advise people to do, just in case.

He returned to the front desk after looking at the cat and said, "They said you could tell me where the cat was picked up. Can you do that?" I said, "I sure can!" and told him the street, city, and zip. He said he didn't know where that was, and I shrugged, indicating that I did not know where it was either, but any dumbshit with a smart phone could look it up.

He then focused in on me and looked me square in the eyes for the remainder of the "conversation". He told me that the people at our shelter were the least helpful. I said, "I'm sorry?" He then, still staring, said loudly, slowly, and deliberately, "You have a terrible personality." to which I said, "What?" "You should not be allowed to talk to people." again, slowly and deliberately. At this point my face completely flushed, which I think is my body's way of distracting me so I keep my damn mouth shut.

I said, "I'm sorry you think that." He then said a few more things about us not being helpful, then he left. He didn't say if it was his cat, and he didn't let me tell him that the cat would be euthanized at the end of the stray hold because it had bitten someone.

Oh well?

I found out later that he had been awful to the multiple staff members trying to help him, who had gone above and beyond to try and help him identify this cat. Par for the course, I guess.

One guy was nice.

On the flip side, I had a young man come in to reclaim his dog. He had come in a couple days ago to get his dogs, but he didn't have enough money to reclaim both dogs, so he had reclaimed the one with the face injury so he could take care of him. He came back for his girl, though, and he remained nice throughout the whole transaction, even when I hit him with a surprise citation, which is an additional $100. He should have been issued the citation for animal at large when he reclaimed the first dog, but the staff member that was helping him missed it.

He was not happy about it, but he didn't take it out on me and remained pleasant. I really wish we could give a discount to people just for being nice. I did ignore the boarding fee that was lost due to a clerical error by the person who had helped him before, so I saved him $20, which he appreciated.

Winifred

Name changed to protect the innocent (cat).

Winifred is a ten year old cat. Her owner brought her in at 5:57 PM (3 minutes before close of business) yesterday night to be euthanized.

Fred likes to pee on the bed. "Likes" may be assigning more emotion to it than is reasonable, but she's made it obvious over the past 4 years that her preferred urination spot is on her "owner's" bed. Her "owner" is a teenager, probably 13-15 years old. She accompanied her mother to have "her" cat put down.

They've tried everything. Numerous visits to Banfield and other vets over the years have revealed no medical issues. Fred is not declawed. She does not have a UTI or other urinary issue. Everything seems normal. But she keeps peeing on the bed. And sometimes in the dirty laundry hamper. And sometimes next to the litterbox. And sometimes in the litterbox. But usually on the bed.

They've put down pee pads. They've put waterproof lining on the bed and cleaned it with different cleaners to discourage re-soiling. Fred just won't stop peeing on the bed.

So she's at the shelter. Her "owner's" mother is talking about having her cremated. So I go through the whole process with her, while looking over the medical records and mulling it over. Yes, I can submit a request for euthanasia, but it's just that, a request. Given that there is medically nothing wrong with the cat, our intake team may opt to have the vet team check her out on Monday and see if they think there may be other options for her, such as behavioral retraining through foster, rescue, or even just being in a smaller (shelter) environment. What I can do is wait to see what their decision is and inform the owner. If the decision is to euthanize immediately, we can hold Fred's body while the owner consults the cremation service. If not, I can make a note to inform them if she is euthanized in the future so that she can reclaim the body for cremation. Otherwise, she is welcome to call us and get a status update. The owner agrees to wait to see what the Receiving Team decides.

Of course they're not going to euthanize the cat. That's ridiculous. What they are going to do is ask more questions to find out to what extent the owner tried to correct the behavior, since it seems to be a behavioral issue and not a medical issue. I tell them what I know so far: Vet visits, not a UTI, not declawed, 10 years old, been urinating outside the litterbox for 4 years.

I return to the lobby to find out what else I can learn. The litterbox is in the daughter's room. The bed in the room with the litterbox is the one that Fred is peeing on. They can't move the litterbox (restrict access to the place where she has decided to urinate). The cat has free roam of the house. They have not tried Cat Attract litter.

They took Fred to Banfield to be euthanized, and Banfield refused. For once, I'm in agreeance with Banfield. They offered to start her on Fluoxetine (Prozac), but the owner did not think it was right to pill a ten year old cat for the rest of her life, and I also agree with that.

So, again, I told them what was going to happen. Our vet team would look at Fred and her medical records. If there was anything else medically that we could do, we would. If we thought it was more appropriate for a rescue group, we would make her available for rescue. If they decided it was likely a behavioral thing (which is what I think), they may just see how she does in a shelter environment or see if a foster home would be willing to take her in. If we could not find a long-term solution for her and it was decided that it would be more humane to euthanize her, then we would do that. And yes, we could notify the owner, as I already told them.

If the decision was made to not euthanize her, could I inform them so that they could come get her?

...What? No.

They were not happy. First off, the adult said that she didn't sign over rights to the cat, she signed the cat over to be euthanized. I gave her a look, and she said, "Is that on the sheet that I signed?" and I said yes. I also told them before I took the cat that she may not be euthanized. That was the whole reason they were still waiting.

Second, the daughter did not want the cat rehomed. She said that due to the cat's age and temperament ("She doesn't even like me very much," the mom said -- sounds like the cat is a pretty good judge of character), it was not fair to expect her to adjust to another environment. If she was not going to be euthanized, they would rather take her back.

They were told that, at any time, they could reclaim the cat as long as she was still in our care. However, if they left the cat with us, we would treat her as we would any other cat. We would do our best to find a good solution for her.

"Everyone here cares about animals." If she is distressed or miserable, we will not force her to do anything. Our goal is not to just keep her alive; our goal is to help her. If the only way we can help her is to euthanize her, we will. But first, we're going to try other things.

They decided to leave her with us.

I could go on all day about what they should have done (moved the litterbox, closed the g*d*m door). Here's a very accessible article about inappropriate cat urination: Feline Behavior Problems: House Soiling

Open mouth- insert foot- breathe

IF YOU DON'T NAME YOUR PETS, YOU ARE A SOCIOPATH. GET AWAY FROM ME.

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This is the conversation I just had with my 5 month old foster kitten:

"Ohhhhhhh my Tina-bean, I love you. Love love love. You're the sweetest little ba- OH GOD STOP ATTACKING MY HEAD! DON'T ATTACK MY HEAD!

*GAG*

*SPIT SPIT SPIT*

SHE PUT HER FOOT IN MY MOUTH!

*GARGLE SPIT GARGLE SPIT*

SHE PUT HER F*ING FOOT IN MY MOUTH!

*SPIT SPIT SPIT*

IT WAS SALTY!!!

*SPIT*

:( "

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Someone called the shelter asking for a red rocket-ectomy.

Not kidding. He had adopted a dog (thanks for adopting!), and the dog was neutered. But he was concerned because the dog was still getting "excited." When told that we do not remove the penis during neuter, he said, "Who will?"

No one, dude. That's SO weird.

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"He's an outside dog" is not the answer to any question, including the following:

• "Why are you not providing medical care for your dog?"
• "Why does your dog smell like infection?"
• "Why has your dog not been to the vet?"
• "Why does your dog have fleas?"

Oh, wait, here's one:

"Why are you a terrible person?"

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Lady came in because she saw her lost dog in our online photo gallery. She provided the ID number. The dog was aged at 2 years and appeared to have been severely over-bred and underweight.

The lady said her dog was stolen 15 years ago.

Uh-

Despite my gentle prodding that this may not be her dog, and her telling me that, well, her dog is small for her breed, so it makes sense that she would be aged younger (...nope), I sent her back to look at the dog and positively ID it.

Not her dog. Byeeee.

Just kidding, she placed a deposit on another dog. Everyone wins!

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Lady comes into the lobby with a cat carrier. I immediately recognize her as someone who I blocked years ago on Facebook, not because we were friends or acquaintances, but because our online social circle overlapped and I couldn't take her insane postings anymore. She is (was?) a cat was a dog breeder.

*I was corrected today and informed that she owns or owned hairless cats but was/is in fact a hairless dog breeder. I find both of them a bit creepy, but to each his own. For the next paragraph, please substitute "weird, non-working-breed dog" for "cat."*

Let me say that again, in case you missed it:

A cat breeder. A person who... breeds... cats. I can't.... I can't even get my head around that. Like, it hurts me to think about it. With all the cats that we have at the shelter, why... WHY.... would you breed cats? That's even worse than breeding pit bulls. And I love both cats and pit bulls (my only two permanent pets are a cat and a pit bull), but my God, we don't need anymore until we can find homes for all the ones we do have!

And don't tell me that its hairless or red-nose. That's the dumbest crap I've ever heard.

Anyway. This is the person surrendering two kittens. I don't think she knows that I know who she is. She used to be a foster for the county, but I believe she stopped fostering because she was getting so much shit from everyone because she was a breeder. Could've been something else, though... anyway. This is her first visit, on paper, since 2013.

Forgive me if I get the details wrong, but what I remember is: She tells me that she's had the kittens for a few weeks, and they were 6 weeks in mid-December, making them 10-12 weeks old at present. They haven't been named. I ask her what color they are, and her answer is so weird that I go look for myself.

One's tabby and white and one's torbie and white. And they're huge. I mean, even for 3 months, they're big kids. My exclamations when I see them reflect that, and I say, "Wow, they're huge! They look like they're six months old!"

She is super offended by my comment, saying, "Well, I was there when they were born, and I know they aren't six months old."

Ma'am. I don't care. You could tell me that you had brought me two-headed purple lizard, and I would just say, "Uh huh. Looks like two kittens to me! But okay!" I have nothing to gain from proving you wrong. In what world does it even matter how gigantic these kittens are? I'm not telling you they're fat, or you've done something wrong, or made any kind of judgment call. Just, yeah, those are some big kittens. In fact, if you're right, kudos! A lot of people struggle to get their kittens as, uh, healthy as yours. Good for you!

Our intake team aged them at 4 months. They're 4.5 and 4.75 lbs. For 4 months, they're big. We have another kitten, also about 4 months, who is only 3.75 lbs.

*Forgot to add: The kittens- I mean the huge kittens- are so poorly socialized that they are not available for adoption. They are waiting for a foster home or rescue to give them the care they need. Great job!*

Here's a rough recap of her shining review of my customer service, put up on Facebook shortly after (I really hope I can get a screenshot for my scrapbook):

"Had to surrender two kittens today. The lady at the front desk made a face and said they were huge and looked like they were 6 months, even though they were only 3 months. If you hate your job so much, maybe you shouldn't work there."

*And here is the actual screenshot. I've never been called "cocky" before. Is that a compliment? Also, I love the jump she makes between a weight remark and finding my whole job "annoying." Uh huh.*

Wow. Just wow. I mean, to accuse ME of making faces. I would never.

Also:

To Buddha's owner

He's being put down in the morning.

You brought him to the shelter because you couldn't afford vet care for him. That's obvious; he has an eye infection, skin infection, sores and hairloss over most of his body. You probably just didn't know how much care a Sharpei required when you got him from the breeder. Or maybe you did, and do, but just couldn't afford it anymore.

He's obviously miserable. He's scared and he's in pain.

You almost did the right thing. Had you stayed, we could have talked about his options and then euthanized him that day. We could have taken him peacefully to the rainbow bridge, and your mind would be at ease as well as his.

But you didn't stay. You lost courage at the last moment and tied him out front, his surrender form being his only advocate. You condemned him to 72 hours of limbo, waiting for an owner who would not return.

We'll take care of him. He'll be scared because you're not there, but we'll do our best to make it as easy as possible. Tonight he got a treat and some kind words, and he stopped growling for a moment.

You almost did the right thing.

Can't make this stuff up

I'm way behind. I'll start with the two most ridiculous ones from today, then an absurd one from about ten days ago, then on back. We'll see how it goes.

---

I guess the first one actually started yesterday. A Korean lady who looked very familiar came in. She was dressed very boldly and her English wasn't stellar, but it was definitely adequate. She placed a deposit on a chihuahua, and kept asking about his neuter, and how she didn't want him neutered and she wanted to take him to her vet, but she kept saying "noodled," and it was really throwing me off. She also kept asking about his teeth ("tea") and looking at us suspiciously.

Today, the dog she placed a deposit on was reclaimed. The owner showed a photo as proof, and happily paid the reclaim and the citation, totaling over $200. He was just glad his dog was okay and his kids could stop crying.

New guy, who had processed the deposit and the reclaim, had to call noodle lady to tell her the dog had been reclaimed. After a few minutes of him getting yelled at, I took over the phone conversation. She demanded to know what proof he showed, then demanded that we show her the proof, then accused us of just giving the dog to someone we liked better when I told her we would do neither of those things for her. All I needed to know was if she wanted a refund or wanted it kept on file for another adoption. She refused to answer the question, and kept making her demands that I had already refused. Rather than go through the whole ordeal again, I said, Okay, ma'am, I'll get started on your refund. It should arrive in a few weeks. Well, she didn't like that answer, and said that she would have her great nephew review the contract and then come in with him to see if we had any other small dogs.

Awesome.

---

Well. This one also started yesterday. Around 5:50 PM, ten minutes before closing, two dogs were still in surgery. I called the first adopter: no answer. I called the second adopter: I just pulled in! Traffic was hell!

After close, the deposit tag on the first dog was pulled and the deposit was canceled as a no call/no show, which means no refund.

Today, the adopter showed up and wanted to put the deposit back on. After yelling at the new guy for a few minutes, I explained to her that the deposit could not be put back on. Per the deposit agreement, the deposit was canceled at close of business because the dog was not picked up. As of right now, the dog was on the adoption floor and not eligible for a deposit because she was altered and not on stray hold, ready to go now. She then asked if she could just pay the remainder and come get the dog later; I said, no, that's the same as a deposit. She is not eligible for a deposit. Please refer back to section one of our discussion.

After yelling a little bit more and realizing that she wasn't going to get anywhere (God, I'm so good at dealing with difficult people), she left in a huff. She came back later and luckily the dog was still there, so she finalized the adoption. I found out that she was so upset because it was actually her dog, and she was gaming the system, which looked like it was going to bite her in the ass. (Owners are not generally allowed to adopt their own dog. They must reclaim, which incurs higher fees and possible citation from Animal Control). She almost lost her dog because, instead of notifying us and telling us she couldn't make it, she just didn't show up. Then, she did come in but couldn't take the dog, which makes no sense... Anyway, dog's back home, hopefully she stays there.

--

That story actually reminds me of another one from today. Guy comes in to reclaim his dog. I talked to his sister (this is a grown man) yesterday, and she said that she was paying for the reclaim only because she made him promise to have the dog spayed (this was her second time in in less than two weeks; she's in heat). He told me that she's pretty strict and won't just give him money; she'll pay for things, but there's always a catch. She's kind of awesome; you don't get to choose your family.

Anyway, he comes in today and he is thrilled because he's getting his baby girl back. I pull up the dog and realize it's a second reclaim ($150) and a second Running at Large citation ($150), which sets sister up to pay $300 right out the gate. It makes me sick to my stomach, and my face squinches up while I try to think of a way to help these folks...

Baby girl has a deposit and will go home on Monday. She will be spayed and microchipped, and hopefully never end up at the shelter again.

---

And the one you've been waiting for. It's so overdue.

Guy comes in, says he needs to surrender two cats. He filled out the surrender forms online (or maybe his wife did), so he waits while I review them. I see pretty much immediately that he lists a local rescue as the place where he got the cats. I told him that I'm sure it's part of the adoption contract that the cats return to the rescue. I ask if he's contacted the rescue. He says no. I say, again, trying to rephrase, that I'm sure that the rescue would prefer to get their cats back rather than have them surrendered to a kill shelter and be in danger (yes, I will say Kill Shelter if it suits me). For most humans, that argument works. Most humans, you know, with souls, would be willing to make one phone call to save their pets' lives.

Not this guy. In fact, he gets... snarky? I can't think of the word right now, but it's defiant in a way that only entitled white men can be. He says that he will not contact the rescue and that he is leaving the cats there.

I finally realize that I have not seen any cats, and ask where the cats are. He says they are in the car, and I ask him to go ahead and get the cats while I finish up the paperwork. In a couple minutes, he's standing in front of me again and I still see no cats. No cats, but this box in the lobby, by the door, like someone decided to donate a bin full of blankets or dog food or something. Upon further inspection, it turns out to be a Rubbermaid Action Packer, which is touted to be weather-resistant and lightweight-yet-durable.

I immediately start to panic and ask if there are any air holes. He looks at me like I'm an alien and says, no. I tell him we need to hurry this up so I can get the cats out of there, and he says, with the most condescending, oh-you-poor-simple-idiot tone that, again, only white men can manage, "There's plenty of air in there." I look at him in disbelief and he continues, "Cats don't need a lot of air. They have very small lungs."

Y'all, I almost died. I went into crisis mode because I could not just slap him in the face and tell him what a horrible monster he was, so I just worked as quickly as possible to get those poor girls out of there. Of course, I asked if he needed the container back, and he said, "Oh, can you guys use it?" And I said, "Oh, yes, that would be great!" And he very graciously agreed to let me keep the container, which meant that I could take these quick pictures.

One cat was adopted almost immediately, and the other was not so thrilled but was reclaimed by the rescue soon after. The rescue was livid, as I was, and knew that he didn't contact them because they had the freedom to tell him how stupid he was. Being a government worker, I couldn't tell him that he was stupid and frivolous, and that the reason for surrender, that his children had tired of the cats, was one of the dumbest excuses he could have given me. He signed the life-long adoption contract, not the children. And he is the one teaching his children that living things and commitment have no value, which I can only hope will come back to haunt him in his old age. Actually, I hope that his children grow up to be better people than he is, despite him.

---

And that brings me to the backlog. Some of them are just too good to pass up:

Guy comes in and surrenders the cat that he found as a stray and then adopted. Why? Her standards were too high. Not kidding. He and his cat bro had lived as bachelors for years; the litterbox was dumped once a week. "I don't scoop litterboxes." It was like a source of pride for him, and his cat was fine with it.

This bitch, though. She comes in and is all like, "You not gonna clean the litterbox? Fine. Don't. I'll take my lady mess elsewhere."

He didn't blame her, though. He just realized that their lives were incompatible and returned her to the adoption center to find a better home. I really don't blame the guy. The cat won.

---

Lady comes in with a cat in a carrier and is just fed up. "He won't leave," she says. "I have company coming over next week and my son is deathly allergic to cats and he won't get off the porch!" ... Ma'am, are you feeding the cat? "Well, yes, but..." But nothing. This is your fault. You feed the cat, the cat will continue to come back. You did this, dummy. You told this poor animal that you would take care of him, you lying bitch. Fail.

---

Lady brings in a cat dying of a UTI. For those who may not know, UTIs are very treatable and very painful, speaking from experience. This cat had been peeing blood for 6 months. 6 months! I had one for 24 hours and wanted to kill someone. I honestly don't remember what happened to the cat; I was just so enraged that she knew because he'd had issues in the past and chose not to treat him. And we see it all the time, where people just let the pet's illness go until it cannot be fixed and we have no choice but to humanely euthanize. There is no reason to allow an animal to suffer. If you cannot treat the animal, give it to someone who can or have it put down. There is no excuse.

---

Guy walks in with newborn kittens. Guy looks a bit confused and frazzled. "He says, these belong to the stray cat I brought in a couple days ago, during the storm. I didn't realize that they were in my closet until I heard them crying this morning." ... It was a dark and stormy night, and a stray cat ran into his house when he opened the door. In the morning, he took her to the shelter. A couple days later, he's getting ready for work, and finds hungry newborns in his closet.

They were reunited and mama cat was thrilled.

---

Fat white guy in a stupid suit walks in with a little black dachshund. He claims to have found the little guy running in the road and was the only one who would stop and save him. He was on his way to work, and just wanted to bring in this stray dog. I said, "Great! I just need your ID to intake the dog as a stray." He immediately loses his shit and starts yelling at me, saying that he's just trying to do a good thing and he's not giving his ID and he should have just let the dog get hit by a car and on and on and on. I tell him that I cannot take the dog from him without getting his ID, and he says he'll just dump the dog. I said, well, I'll have to call the police for abandonment. He smirks at me and walks out with the dog, and I follow him. I watch him get into his car and drop the dog out the door before closing it.

As he's turning on his car and putting it into reverse, I get a photo of his license plate and let him know that I will call the police. Meanwhile, the little dog is running around the parking lot, and the only people around are me, asshole, and two or three dog walkers, all with dogs. I had a slip-lead with me because I knew what was going to happen, but the dog is not friendly, which reinforces the idea that this is definitely not a stray, but is his dog. No one can get near it but him. He does get out and get the dog, and pulls away with the dog in his lap, yelling, "Whatever happens to this dog is your fault!" Yeah, whatever helps you sleep at night, Asshole.

---

Heavily tattooed guy walks in with a box of kittens. He said he saw a guy on the side of the road on his way to work, and noticed that the guy was putting kittens in a box on the side of the road. He stopped, confronted the guy, and took the kittens. He was actually really pissed, and had hit the guy a few times, and was still visibly shaken up by the encounter. His knuckles were skinned. He said, "That's just not okay. You don't do things like that."

I really wish he'd been there when Asshole had come in. Sometimes I need back-up. Oh, and the kittens were horribly skinny, flea-infested and had terrible URIs. They made it, though, and should be adoptable any day now.

STOP DECLAWING YOUR CATS

I know I can say this until I'm blue in the face, but the people that need to hear this won't. It'll only serve to enrage and sadden those who already know. All I can do is continue to share these stories and hope that it makes a difference.

Declawing causes aggression and litterbox issues. No, every cat won't have either one of those issues. But it happens enough that it's just not worth it! Not to mention the life-long pain and suffering it causes the cats.

1. Aggression

Guy walks in the front door, says, "This cat is aggressive and we're expecting a baby. We can't keep him." He plops the carrier on the ground.

"We can't rehome a cat that is aggressive. He will be euthanized Has he bitten anybody?"

"Yes, my pregnant wife."

"Did the bite break skin?"

"Yes."

"When was the last bite that broke skin?"

"This morning."

"He'll be placed on a ten day rabies quarantine and then euthanized at the end of the quarantine if not reclaimed. I need your ID."

During this conversation, the owner has grown increasingly upset and is now visibly red and tearing up. He says, "I need five minutes." and storms out, leaving the cat in the lobby. Since I already have his information from his Drivers License, I wait to see if he comes back.

A few minutes later, he storms back in, says, "You guys should be ashamed of yourselves." grabs the cat and storms back out.

Because there was a bite involved, I called the ACO on call. He called the owner, who told him that the cat was NOT aggressive and the bite did NOT break skin. He did not want the cat euthanized. He was advised by the ACO to keep the cat on a ten day quarantine at home, since he was up-to-date on rabies and bit a family member.

Less than an hour later, the owner comes back in to surrender the cat, again. He again says that the cat is not aggressive, and was just playing with his wife. Finally, we find out that the cat is declawed. He was adopted as a tiny kitten 4 years ago and is now back as a declawed bite cat.

He is absolutely aggressive. He's likely been in pain for four years. He cannot be safely removed from his carrier. He tries to scratch and bite. Now he gets to sit in a room, surrounded by other cats, for ten days. Then he will be euthanized, long forgotten and abandoned by his owner.

2. Litterbox issues

Lady brings a cat in, says that he's spraying everywhere. I ask if there are other cats, she says yes. I ask how long he's been doing it, and she says he's been doing it for years, and she can't take it anymore. I ask if he's declawed, and she says yes.

Declawing makes a cat's toes more sensitive. In this case, he approaches the litterbox because he knows he's supposed to use it, but then he goes right next to it because the litter hurts his feet. Or he'll find a different spot, maybe some plastic bags, because it seems like a pretty good litterbox substitute.

Well, she says, here's the reason I had him declawed: He was so friendly with people and dogs, and would stretch his arms up to greet anybody he met. I was afraid that he would claw out my dog's eyes because he's so friendly.

....

I can't make this stuff up.

The whole time she's talking, I'm screaming in my head, "CUT HIS NAILS! CUT HIS F*ING NAILS! DON'T MUTILATE YOUR CAT BECAUSE YOU'RE A MORON!"

But of course it's too late. Too late for the cat, anyway. He IS such a friendly boy. Such a nice cat. He's waiting for the vets to look at him and make sure he doesn't have any underlying medical issues causing him not to use the litterbox. But we all know what the issue is.

For the love of cats, STOP DECLAWING.