Saturday, 1 August 2009
It never surprises me how callous some people are. You never can tell just by appearances alone. They look 'normal' and can even be polite but then they do the most shocking thing. I was out at one of our local animal shelters yesterday. It is the one that takes 'owner relinquished' pets only. Somehow just that term is so, so sad isn't it? Of course, I suppose even I can imagine very extenuating circumstances when that would be the ONLY solution but really...most of the dogs here (and the cats too) arrive with the most flimsy of excuses from their people. The woman who runs the place and does almost everything, all the time, takes these pups in on a regular basis. She does so with few questions as to 'why' but with a few more about the personality and health of the animal being left. Her goal being to find a better, a real, a permanent home for these unwanted beings. So yesterday I happened to get there at the same time a sweet, 3-year old dog was being left by her 'owner' ('moving and new place doesn't allow dogs' you be the judge ). After filling out the paperwork, he said a quick good-bye and was out the door...and to think he looked like a nice guy. I was stunned, as was the dog. Well, we loved the shell-shocked dog up a little bit and calmed her down and then she was led back to the kennels, to wait. She was devastated and it would take some time for her to be okay again. I cannot help but think how under no circumstances would I have ever given Cowgirl up, willingly. I would have lived on the street before I would have moved somewhere without her. I would feed her before I fed myself. She was considered in every equation. When I sighed on with her it was for life. Even in death, I won't 'relinquish'. Reality bites.