I was so happy to receive an email from a foster Mom asking me to rescue a specific cat from the "high kill" shelter. Although I don't need an excuse to go, I like knowing that I'm taking somebody that would have no other chance:
At a not-so-high-kill shelter, there's a purebred Bengal that needs help. He's five years old, soooo sweet and handsome:
I don't know what people are thinking spending copious amounts of money on purebred cats and then dumping them at the shelter. Don't the breeders ask questions of the people who adopt? I suppose reputable breeders do.
People are surprised that purebred cats are at shelters and being killed due to overcrowding. They seem to think that it makes sense that the shelters kill the black ones, or the plain ones. But heaven forbid they kill the purebred cats - the special cats.
I received an email this morning from a woman asking for help with a cat. She's moving TOMORROW into a place that doesn't accept cats. So this guy is going to be homeless tomorrow:
I'm not surprised that this shit happens. People think that pets are disposable. They'll just get another one when they're life "sorts itself out."
In the meantime, that 7 year old tabby guy is killing me. He has no idea that his life is hanging in the balance. He's sitting there all warm and happy in his home and soft carpet. He thinks somebody loves him. Tomorrow he'll be abandoned in a steel cage. I wonder how he'll feel when the door *clangs* shut and he's given food that he's never eaten before.
He'll feel the same way the Persian and Bengal feels. Hopeless.