i need a good metaphor for this [[warning: morbid life-talk..]]
So. I'm doing my current internship at my local Humane Society. The good thing is that it's a public facility, which means it's busy, which means there's a lot to do, which means i don't get bored. which is good.
There are a lot of great animals there (and a few not-so-great ones, like the cutest little kitten i ever saw and wanted to take home... who also happens to be ferral and under observation for rabies.... ._.;;) just waiting to be adopted.
The problem is that not all of them will find homes. And I'm worried that with the economic downturn, people are less likely to be able to afford keeping a pet. They're also less likely to go out and get a new one. Which would mean less pets are leaving the shelter, and it's likely that there'll be an increase in arrivals. Like cancer, the increase of something bad, and the decrease of something good, will eventually add up to something very bad. In this case, euthanasia.
Euthanasia's nothing new. Especially not to the IVHS, or any other Humane Society. A few years ago, I took a tour of the facility prior to what was going to be a volunteering stint. One of the rather unfortunate things I learned is that so many pets have to be euthanized that the cadavers are placed into metal barrels for storage, until they can be removed from the premisis. It's sick, but I really can't hold it against them. They just can't afford to do anything else.
Today I happened to walk by the cylinders. One was open. I got all the way up to three feet from it before I felt all icy cold inside and just walked away before I was enough of an idiot to peek inside. Later on, I was moving laundry around, and had to go to the "Green Room". I'd never been there before, and so someone had to guide me. She said "Maybe you should just leave the sheets outside the door... They're working on the euthanasia list right now."
I think she could see the jumble of emotions on my face. Shock, sadness, helplessness, embarrassment. I know how to make myself get over euthanasia. I know the cold facts about it, I know that sometimes, it's just the only option left, whether it be a terminally sick pet, or an unadoptable animal that needs to be rotated out so that others can have their chance at a new life. That still doesn't make it any easier, and it doesn't mean I didn't have the impulse to lunge and cry "Wait! No! I'll take him!" Every time I saw someone leading a dog, or carrying a cat to the Green Room. And i saw that a lot today. I even accidentally caught a glimpse of an animal on a table, probably about to be injected. I kept imagining them working through the list routinely, finishing one, tossing it into the aforementioned barrel, and moving on.
I can't lie and say it doesn't chill me. And I can't lie and say I think it'll get easier with time. I really don't think it will.
I don't know what it is, but I feel more sensitive about pet deaths than human deaths. When Katrina struck, I felt more heartbroken when I heard about a cat found trapped in a flooded house on top of a refrigerator, or a lost dog waiting to be claimed by its family.
More than anything, I'm shocked at how sensitive to death I really am sometimes. Sometimes I feel very numbed, and can hardly care. But death is death, regardless of whether it is human or otherwise. And there is still a tiny part of me that fears it, the way all other living beings do.
There are a lot of great animals there (and a few not-so-great ones, like the cutest little kitten i ever saw and wanted to take home... who also happens to be ferral and under observation for rabies.... ._.;;) just waiting to be adopted.
The problem is that not all of them will find homes. And I'm worried that with the economic downturn, people are less likely to be able to afford keeping a pet. They're also less likely to go out and get a new one. Which would mean less pets are leaving the shelter, and it's likely that there'll be an increase in arrivals. Like cancer, the increase of something bad, and the decrease of something good, will eventually add up to something very bad. In this case, euthanasia.
Euthanasia's nothing new. Especially not to the IVHS, or any other Humane Society. A few years ago, I took a tour of the facility prior to what was going to be a volunteering stint. One of the rather unfortunate things I learned is that so many pets have to be euthanized that the cadavers are placed into metal barrels for storage, until they can be removed from the premisis. It's sick, but I really can't hold it against them. They just can't afford to do anything else.
Today I happened to walk by the cylinders. One was open. I got all the way up to three feet from it before I felt all icy cold inside and just walked away before I was enough of an idiot to peek inside. Later on, I was moving laundry around, and had to go to the "Green Room". I'd never been there before, and so someone had to guide me. She said "Maybe you should just leave the sheets outside the door... They're working on the euthanasia list right now."
I think she could see the jumble of emotions on my face. Shock, sadness, helplessness, embarrassment. I know how to make myself get over euthanasia. I know the cold facts about it, I know that sometimes, it's just the only option left, whether it be a terminally sick pet, or an unadoptable animal that needs to be rotated out so that others can have their chance at a new life. That still doesn't make it any easier, and it doesn't mean I didn't have the impulse to lunge and cry "Wait! No! I'll take him!" Every time I saw someone leading a dog, or carrying a cat to the Green Room. And i saw that a lot today. I even accidentally caught a glimpse of an animal on a table, probably about to be injected. I kept imagining them working through the list routinely, finishing one, tossing it into the aforementioned barrel, and moving on.
I can't lie and say it doesn't chill me. And I can't lie and say I think it'll get easier with time. I really don't think it will.
I don't know what it is, but I feel more sensitive about pet deaths than human deaths. When Katrina struck, I felt more heartbroken when I heard about a cat found trapped in a flooded house on top of a refrigerator, or a lost dog waiting to be claimed by its family.
More than anything, I'm shocked at how sensitive to death I really am sometimes. Sometimes I feel very numbed, and can hardly care. But death is death, regardless of whether it is human or otherwise. And there is still a tiny part of me that fears it, the way all other living beings do.