You can tell in the picture his front right leg is in pretty bad shape.
One of the reception staff came into the back to announce that "Peter" owner was there to claim him! (The percentage of cats being claimed by their owners is very low, so when an owner actually finds their cat, it's really exciting.) The man puts Peter in a box and pays the $101.00 to the city for the impound fees.
THEN....the reception staff tells him that Peter is in a lot of pain and he'll need to go to the vets right away. The man looks at her and says, "No. I'm not taking him to the vets. I'll just wrap it up myself."
Holy Crap. He's going to wrap a compound fracture himself?
I'm hearing all this going on and am desperately trying to keep my mouth shut. Fortunately, the shelter would contact the SPCA and have them call on this guy to insure that he takes the cat to the vet.
Done deal, right? WRONG!
An hour later, I'm still at the shelter and this moron comes back with the cat in the box and tells the receptionist, "This is not my cat. Sorry."
Oh. My. God.
I couldn't stand it and I went into the lobby and took a peek in the box. "Peter" looked up at me with his mangled leg dangling and he started to purr. I could feel my eyes burning and I knew the tears weren't far off.
The vet tech at the shelter tells me that Peter has been in pain far too long and that he would be "sent out" to a vet clinic immediately for euthanasia. Peter was out of time.
I sat in my car for a few minutes in the shelter parking lot. I frantically started dialing numbers of people whose numbers I had memorized. I was crying. The injustice that this cat was *almost home* was more than I could stand.
Understandably, I can really get hurt while at the shelter, but once I leave the intense hurt will some times dissipate. Not this time. I drove the newly rescued cats to the veterinary clinic for their spay and neuters and started to cry when I saw the vet. He was disgusted with Peter's story, as was I.
When I arrived home, I called the shelter and asked them to give me 1 hour - ONE HOUR to try to find someone to help Peter. He was already at the vets, but they could give me one hour before he was euthanzed. Peter would no doubt need his leg amputated. He would need a foster home that could help him medically, and have a place where he could recover.
I went to Facebook and begged: "I have ONE hour to help a very sweet deserving cat with a broken leg. The shelter has given me 1 hour to find placement for him or he'll be euthanized. Please let me know if you can help. It's 1:30 pm now....There isn't much time left for this sweet boy. He was purring when I left him and I cried all the way home."
The messages and prayers started coming in immediately. Many thanks to Jenn L., Allison, Renee, Kate and Brandon who all came forward and asked the important questions and offered to help.
Then my phone rang.
It was Steve. Steve is the man that adopted my little blind Travis and Bucky. He saw my plea on Facebook and wanted to help Peter. Steve was the perfect solution for Peter! He's retired and has a small sunny spare room for Peter to recover. Bless his crazy heart!
I called the shelter and Peter is safe. :) All this transpired in less than 45 minutes. For one cat. I'm picking him up and taking him to the vets tomorrow.
Can somebody tell me how to explain all this to the rescue in which I volunteer? Peter is going to be an expensive cat....maybe I need to set up a donation fund for him....Any help for Peter's surgery would really help take the edge off things. Ahh...I'll deal with that tomorrow...
For now? Tomorrow is a new beginning for Peter - thanks to a lot of people who cared enough to save his life.