I feel so lonesome, I could die.

I'll never understand the owners who say that they don't have time for their pet anymore, and leave them to die at the shelter in the arms of strangers. I'm not talking about how we tell every pet owner who surrenders a pet that their pet will be at risk due to space, health and temperament, I'm talking about the owners who are told, after intake, point blank, that if they walk out that front door without their pet, their pet will be euthanized in the next ten minutes. And they keep on walking.

Kiki was brought in by his grandfather and left to die. He was a 4 year old, declawed cat whose mother could no longer give him the time that he "deserved". "He deserves a good home with a loving family," she wrote. Kiki did not get what he deserved. Kiki hadn't been away from home in years. He was in a borrowed carrier that smelled like another cat, taken to a room by someone he didn't know, placed in a kennel in that carrier, surrounded by hundreds of other smells and the voices of strangers. He didn't want to be handled by those strangers, he was too scared and wanted to be left alone. So he hissed. He hissed and he growled and he acted tough so that we wouldn't know that he was scared to death. But we knew. We also knew that we couldn't keep him. We couldn't put him up for adoption because he wouldn't be able to handle dozens of strangers staring at him every day, trying to touch him. We couldn't hold him because the shelter environment is cruel for fearful animals. Our only option was to euthanize him and give him a kind death. But first, I asked his grandfather if they would take him back. I said, "He's scared. We can't touch him. You can walk out that door with him and we'll destroy the paperwork. If you leave him here, he will be put down."

Kiki fought. He was scared, but he fought death. He wasn't ready. But that wasn't his choice. Or ours.

Bryn was a good dog, too. At one time, she had a family with children that loved her. But then her mother and her children left her with her father. Her father lost his job, but found a new one a few weeks later. That new job, though, meant that he had to travel, for weeks at a time. No one would watch Bryn, and her father couldn't afford the extensive boarding fees with his new job's salary.

When I met Bryn, she thought she was at the vet and she was already scared. The vets had warned us that she was fearful and would need to be muzzled, and to go slow with her. So we went for a walk, me, Bryn and her father. We walked down the sidewalk, and when we got to the end, she and I walked around the yard while her father went to his car. He couldn't take her back, no matter what the outcome, but he knew that her chances were not good.

Bryn walked with me like a good girl does. She went with me into the front door, through the lobby, and down the hallway. She got on the scale, and stood obediently. But she would not let me touch her. And she would not let anyone else touch her. Bryan was scared, too, and she defended herself in the only way she knew how. The whites of her eyes showed. Her hackles went up. She bared her teeth. And she growled. A dog like that can't go on the adoption floor. A dog like that should be at home, with her family, where she is safe. The shelter is no place for a scared good girl.

Sometimes we can save these pets. But most of the time, we can't. We don't have the space for them, we don't have a place where they can feel safe and relax. It's loud and it smells funny and there's nothing for them but fear. It's so sad that the best we can do is euthanize them, give them the peace that their owners failed to secure for them. Please, people, take your pet to the vet to be put down. Be there for them when they need you the most. Don't put that on us.

Blue moon

I know people get a little crazy around the full moon, and yesterday's "blue moon" was no exception. Here are a couple lovely stories from yesterday, and one from today to round it off:

"No, Thank You."

20-something kid with an attitude walks in with a smiling older woman. He tells me he's here to pay a fine. I ask if he has any paperwork. He says no. I ask who the citation would have been written to. He gestures irreverently to his mother and says, "I guess her." She continues smiling and gives me her name. I find the dog that they reclaimed, but cannot find the citation in the computer. I confirm with him that they did get a paper copy. I tell him that I'm going to have to go figure out which citation he's paying, since it's not in the computer and he forgot his paperwork. He says, "How long is this going to take? I gotta go."

Well, sir.

Since you forgot your paperwork, I'm going to go track down the citation so I can enter a payment and you won't get taken to court.

It's going to take a minute.

Our ever-vigilant finance guy finds that the citation is logged and offers to bring out the paper copy when he finds it, and also call downtown because they were going to report the civil fine to the court that day. I thank him and return to the lobby. Since he's in such a hurry, I give the guy two options: he can wait until the copy of his citation is found so he can get a receipt, or he can go ahead and make the payment and I'll mail him a receipt. He happily hands me a wad of $20 bills and starts to walk off. I ask him to hold on so I can make sure I have the correct mailing address, and then he leaves. His consistently delightful mother thanks me as they leave, and I have $200 in my hand with no receipt.

Kids these days.

"I have so many pictures of my cat."

Lady comes in, and right away she's putting off bad vibes. She's walking too fast, she's too stiff and her face looks like she smelled something bad as a child and it stuck like that. She tells me that she's there to pick up her 17-year-old cat. I'm thrilled.

A few hours earlier, a very nice gentleman came in in a panic because he had called animal control to come pick up a cat that was under his house. He didn't think the cat was in good shape, it had no collar or ID, and he didn't want the cat to expire under his house. Later on, his wife saw a post from a neighbor on their community page, saying that her old, Siamese cat had escaped. He had come in to make sure that the cat was still with us and to try and get the cat back home. We had to inform him that we could only release the cat to the owner, and he could reimburse her fees if he wanted to, but he couldn't pay us directly.

The owner called us to confirm everything, and was told that she needed her ID, proof of ownership and payment to reclaim. She said she did not have any proof of ownership. We informed her that, legally, we had to have some proof of ownership to release any pet to an owner. She said she would be in the next day.

So when she comes huffing in, I'm so excited to see her, because I know she's going to be a lovely customer. And it's 5 minutes before close.

I ask for her ID, and she hands me her drivers license. I ask for proof of ownership, and she says she doesn't have any. I say, again, that we need to have proof of ownership to release a pet. She says, "Who else is going to want a 17-year old cat?" When I ask about vet records, she says, "I'm a vet, I take care of my own pets." When I ask about photos, she retorts, "Why would I take pictures of my 17-year-old cat?" I give her a blank look, because there's just nothing I could say that wouldn't get me fired.

I check with management, because while she does not have proof, there is fairly easy line to follow, if not direct. I couldn't fathom not having one photo or record for a 17-year relationship, but I love my cat (as my t-shirt today says) and I have a bajillion photos of her from the past year that I've had her. I can only imagine that, in 17 years, I'll have a bajillion times 17 photos of her.

Management says go for it, just to get the cat out, because it would have been euthanized the next day otherwise. The lady pays the fees, we box up the cat and send it home.

Sometimes you just get "the warm fuzzies."

Nope, Still Don't Like Chihuahuas

Today a family surrendered a little chihuahua with a nub-tail. She was nervous, in typical chihuahua fashion, but she walked well with me and was friendly with me in Receiving. She crawled into my lap and let me pet her while they got ready to do her vaccinations. When they got started, I left.

When I checked on her later, she was Rescue Only. She did fine for vaccinations, but when they went to move her from the holding kennel in Receiving to the adoption floor, she freaked out and started biting and nipping.

I don't like chihuahuas. I don't trust them because I can't read their body language. They always look scared to death and like they're about to bite you. Even the nice ones. I don't like disliking an entire breed, so I try to work with those I can and not be so discriminatory.

So, I grabbed a bed and a blanket and went to see my little friend. She was in quarantine and was very excited to see me once she remembered me. She wagged her little nub and jumped up and down, then crawled right into my lap when I sat down. I was rubbing her head, and rubbing her belly, and then, all of a sudden, she bit me right in the face, getting my nose and my right cheek. I pushed her off my lap, which offended her, and she tried to get back in my lap. I told her No Ma'am, and left the kennel.

She didn't break the skin, and it was only red for a few minutes. But man, that hurt my feelings.

Another day at the office

It's been a long week. Our staff of five was down to three, which is a pretty big downsize. I've worked every day this week; I haven't had a single day off.

This day has been especially crazy; here's a bit of what happened today:

• One of our wonderful fosters brought in her days old foster kitten to "go to sleep."
• Cinderooni escaped and the rescue coordinator and I chased her through the woods around to the back of the building and had to check her for cat debris.
• A dog that had been hit by a car was reclaimed by the owner's brother, except he changed his mind when he went around back to pick up the dog, so we had to do some legal paperwork magic to get that junk straight in the computer. They have until 6 PM tomorrow to reclaim him and take him to the vet. The owner has a history with animal control.
• A dog that was adopted today after having neuter surgery was brought in hours later for biting a child, then the adopter tried to yell, "Just kidding!" once it sank in that the dog would not be an adoption candidate if she left him with us, after she got a refund, after she signed the dog over and he went into quarantine. Raleigh animal control basically said, "Nope, not dealing with this. Good luck guys." and I stayed until 7:15 sorting it out. I was at work for 11 hours. And I have to follow up tomorrow.
• The owners of a different dog that had been hit by a car came in looking for him. They had signed him over to animal control instead of taking him to the vet, and now they wanted him back after getting "free" vet care. They couldn't locate the dog, who was in vet treatment. We didn't know until hours later that it was the dog they were searching for.
• I was berated by an old woman whose sister had died. The deceased had adopted a cat from us and the surviving sister wanted the cat, but she was in New Jersey and wanted us to provide a health certificate so the cat could travel out of the state and also provide the transport. I told her that we could not do either of those things and suggested she contact local rescues to help her. She did not like that answer and proceeded to personally insult me, then refuse to give me her name, refuse to take the phone number of my supervisor, who she requested to speak with but who was not in the office today, then flat out refused to speak with me. She hung up while holding for my coworker, who had stepped out for a moment.
• A woman came to reclaim her dog, who was being kept by her brother but was brought in by the brother's landlord, without warning. The brother was late paying rent, but had a written agreement to pay a few days late, plus late fees. Despite agreeing, the landlord had changed the locks without warning and brought the dog to the shelter, claiming that his tenants had been gone for weeks and had abandoned the dog with no food. Turns out, the couple had only lived there for one month and had no idea they were being evicted, since they had a written agreement to pay late. They'll be going to court.
• Quite a few people turned in puppies today-- not allowed to have pets, moving, too much energy, not enough space, etc etc. One got irate because I explained that we wouldn't call if her puppy was going to be put down. "The only way to ensure the safety of your puppy is to not leave her here." She left the puppy. The puppy tried to bite everyone on intake, before even starting the vaccination process. I did call the owner and informed her that she had until 6 PM to take her puppy home (at no charge) or she would be euthanized. "Okay." She didn't come back.
• Another adopter returned a puppy after one month because he kept "biting" the adopter's little brother. It was gently explained that there is a difference between aggressive biting and being mouthy during play, and that if "bite" or "aggressive" were written on the surrender form, the 3 month old puppy would likely be euthanized because we cannot place pets known to be biters up for adoption. 10 minutes later, the surrender form was turned in, with the box checked next to "Has bitten in the last 10 days." After further clarification, he redid the form.
• A litter of five fat, healthy kittens were brought in by animal control. Honey had a great time licking the kittens, who made it into foster or rescue.

Many of those scenarios played out simultaneously. I need a break.