Sometimes I really hate my own species
When I’m not wrangling kittens, crafting till my fingers go numb or playing dodgeball, I spend a good 40 hours a week working for a company in return for money that allows me to pay my bills, wrangle kittens, pay for craft supplies and dodgeball fees. I work for a real estate development company that always owns a number of rental properties throughout Halifax. Recently one of managers came to me for help. A pathetic excuse for a human skipped out on her apartment, leaving half of her belongings….and her two cats. The food she left (or at least I’m assuming she left some) was eaten in no time, and there was no water and no litter box.
She left them to die.
Yes, I understand that people do go through hard times and may not always be able to keep their pets in the living situation that they are dealing with. But as the pet guardian, it is THEIR responsibility to find a suitable home for them in the meantime. Leaving them in an apartment with nothing to eat and no way to escape is honestly one of the worst possible ways to “get rid” of a pet. She virtually left them with no way to survive. Luckily for them, someone heard their cries for help. If they hadn’t, this would have been a completely different end to this story.
Even though HCRS is currently stuffed to the brim with fosters and vets bills climbing, I begged that we could take the cats in. The SPCA and every other rescue group in this city is well beyond capacity and even though there are still thousands of cats to be rescued, there is no where to put them once they are taken in. Eventually my persistence wore them down because it was agreed that we would take them into our care. I even arranged to pick them up myself (I don’t drive) and would get them to their first vet appointment which was scheduled for the same day. I even offered to keep them at my place until we could find a less crowed foster home for them where they could flourish and find out what it’s like to be a loved and respected member of a family household because clearly anyone that would leave their animal to die in an abandoned apartment, has no love or respect for the animal.
So after work last Thursday, I headed out to the apartment complex, with two cat carriers in tow. When we (my friend Jessie came along for the trip) arrived in the apartment, I was disgusted. Cat feces and urine everywhere and no light. It was like a cave and these poor cats had been living in it alone for at least two weeks that we know of. It broke my heart to know that these poor babies had to deal with that and that a human being was to blame. And if she was capable of leaving them to die, who knows how well she treated them while she was “caring” for them.
As it turns out….she wasn’t caring for them very well either.
Before I even arrived, I had no idea what I was in store for. I didn’t know their ages, names or even their genders. Turns out that they are both females and neither have been spayed. The first, who I named Greta, is diluted calico who is a little chubby but incredibly sweet and gentle and wants nothing in life but love and a window perch to watch the world go by. The other, a long haired tuxedo, I named Klara and she is rather underweight but quite feisty! She was so terrified of the ordeal that as soon as we loaded her up into the car, she peed in the carrier and was covered in urine. When I tried to take her out to clean her up before her vet visit, she may have lashed out at me and I ended up a little bloody but stayed calm as I knew her aggression was not aimed at me but rather due to stress. She’s been through a lot and I’d never hold that against her. I eventually managed to get her back in the carrier to take the both of them to the vet to make sure they didn’t test positive for any of the usual feline diseases.
Luckily they both tested negative and they came home with me. I put them in my spare (cough*cat*cough) bedroom so that they could adjust to their new life of being loved, respected and cared for. Greta was sweet from the moment she arrived, never once showing aggression. She could never decide if she preferred head scratches or bum scratches and would try to stick both up in the air as soon as she would see my hand coming close to pet her. And just look at those eyes! You can see sadness in her eyes and you know she’s been through a lot in her short 3 years.
Klara on the other hand, was a little hissy when we arrived back at my place and wouldn’t let me approach her. But as I said, I wasn’t worried. I know she’s been through a lot and after dealing with Moira’s issues when she first arrived, I know I can handle a lot more. She scratched me a few times but once she realised that I was the bringer of food, she started to warm up to me. I honestly have no fear that she won’t become a sweet cat for someone to love.
And man oh man, does she ever look like my very first foster kitten, Ophelia. It’s almost freaky how identical they look!
The two have already left my house for a new foster home where they’ll be able to flourish and be loved and hopefully adopted shortly. But this whole situation made me realise that not only should some people not be allowed to have pets but that human beings are really the most dangerous animals that we need to be afraid of.