There was a flurry of activity at the shelter today. People were lined up out the door with small boxes in their arms and paperwork in their hands. I'm always suspicious of the boxes, carriers or laundry baskets. That usually means that people are there to dump their family pets and I need to leave fast before I say something stupid.
As usual, I couldn't keep my big mouth shut...
There was a young couple standing in line looking quite upset. Their cat was lost. God, I hate hearing that, because I just knew that these idiots were probably letting their cat out and are now surprised she didn't come back, "because she always comes back". But that wasn't the case this time. Their cat was 10 months old and newly spayed. In fact, they were very concerned because she still had stitches. She wasn't an outdoor cat, but got out from a tiny rip in their window screen.
Seriously. In front of me was a responsible pet owner looking for their lost pet at Animal Services? What a concept.
The next guy in line was someone with a dove in beer box with a broken wing. He was so upset when the shelter worker told him that there wasn't much that could be done for the poor bird.
Holy shit. Somebody who was bringing in a hurt bird that CARED?
The rest of the people there were updating their dog licences and asking questions about the law pertaining to rabies vaccines, etc.
I went back into the shelter only to find that the shelter wasn't as full as it usually would be on a Monday morning at the end of April. The staff at the shelter "hushed" me, when I started to make a comment that might jinx the serenity at the shelter.
I felt like I might be looking into the future. It was surreal and beautiful. There was a split-second where I saw a future where I could be out of a cat rescue volunteer job.
...and it felt goooood.