The perils of working in an animal shelter include risk of feline collection. I have two red, male kittens I am bottle feeding. Once they reach 2-pounds they can be neutered at KHS and put up for adoption.
Some weeks, I am not tempted at all to bring anyone home. Kittens from feral mom-cats flow through the door daily; some too small to put into our fostering program. Those are euthanized most the time for lack of a person willing to bottle feed them every two hours.
This week I had to save two.
Maybe it was because of the hound I witnessed carried in by a compassionate local guy two days before that softened my resolve. The dog was in frightening shape and this muscled, handsome man had tears welling up in his eyes as I led him back to a kennel where he lay the dog on a towel. Shaking his head in anger and disgust at whoever was responsible for this dying animal, he said a single word, "Who?"
When I see animals come to our shelter in this shape, I can't think about who is responsible.
I didn't respond to the man. I looked at the dog laying on the towel and said to him, "You are so smart to have escaped. We're glad you're here. What a good boy you are."
He wagged his tail.
How on earth he could still smile at me was a wonder.
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