Oh for FUCK'S SAKE.
Thank you for all your kind words yesterday. It actually helped more than I can say.
It's not that I feel like I'm responsible for the cats' suffering, it's that I feel bad that I can't do more, and in light of that, sending them to their deaths just seems so very bleak. I thank lizblackdog again for articulating what I couldn't: ". . . it's hard to live with when instead of the happy ending, you just get the absence of suffering." That's exactly it.
I know I did everything I knew to do, and I know that the animals would only suffer and breed more suffering if left to blindly reproduce, but part of me would rather believe that I screwed up than that I did everything I could and it still didn't work. I'd rather have misapplied my power than not have enough power to effect lasting change.
But the good news is that I'm not in that boat! Change has been made!
As of this morning, Crazy Cat Lady has removed the food dishes from her porch. I saw her do it. I like to think this is her complying with the freaking law, and not her trying to hide evidence by shifting the feeding site to her backyard. The people at Animal Control seem to think they've finally gotten the message through her thick skull, anyway. Apparently their boss is the one investigating it himself, so it's not like I didn't blow the whistle hard enough to get attention.
I'll be checking on it, needless to say, but I think this is a victory. Not the only one, perhaps, and lord knows I don't feel good about it, but I at least feel like the situation has improved, and might continue to do so without me cracking the whip every damn day. Not that I won't, if it's needed.
Now the bad news: Someone apparently dumped a puppy in the neighborhood. I'm not good with dogs, but she looked like a healthy, 12-week-old black lab/pit bull mix, cute as the devil's baby shoes. And FULL OF ENERGY. My God. She followed me for half a mile, cannonballing into my legs every four paces.
I spent a good part of this morning hunting around the neighborhood for her people, found nothing, and then had a neighbor tell me she saw the puppy in the middle of the nearest major intersection early this morning. Fucking tragic. Goddamn irresponsible cockbreath crotch sucking monkey-furred heathens.
None of the other neighbors could be coaxed into taking her even for a couple of hours, so I brought her home, fed her, watered her, and since I can't keep a puppy in the backyard (there's a huge hole in the fence for one), I shipped her off to the animal shelter where, if she has people, they will hopefully have the sense to look for her, and where, if she doesn't, she at least has a chance of finding some.
God dammit.
She's very healthy at least, even if she could stand to put on a pound or so, and the shelter staff thought her chances of being adopted were really, really good. Most of the animals they bring in are sickly or older or skittish, hard to adopt out. Healthy, young, well-socialized animals are comparatively rare.
Better than being street pizza or starving to death, but I still feel like I just sent her off to be murdered.
Dammit all to hell.
Now I understand why people don't get involved. They don't want to be the one to send an animal to be put down. And because nobody's willing to do it, the animals wander around, suffer, and never even have a chance of being adopted before they die horribly.
Well, fuck that noise.
As I have grown up I've come to realize that the deciding factor in being an adult (and in being a leader, for that matter) is not the ability to make a right decision, but the ability to make any decision at all. Especially when no "right" decision presents itself.
So I decide, and even if I fuck up, it's better than having done nothing at all.
Here endeth the lesson.
It's not that I feel like I'm responsible for the cats' suffering, it's that I feel bad that I can't do more, and in light of that, sending them to their deaths just seems so very bleak. I thank lizblackdog again for articulating what I couldn't: ". . . it's hard to live with when instead of the happy ending, you just get the absence of suffering." That's exactly it.
I know I did everything I knew to do, and I know that the animals would only suffer and breed more suffering if left to blindly reproduce, but part of me would rather believe that I screwed up than that I did everything I could and it still didn't work. I'd rather have misapplied my power than not have enough power to effect lasting change.
But the good news is that I'm not in that boat! Change has been made!
As of this morning, Crazy Cat Lady has removed the food dishes from her porch. I saw her do it. I like to think this is her complying with the freaking law, and not her trying to hide evidence by shifting the feeding site to her backyard. The people at Animal Control seem to think they've finally gotten the message through her thick skull, anyway. Apparently their boss is the one investigating it himself, so it's not like I didn't blow the whistle hard enough to get attention.
I'll be checking on it, needless to say, but I think this is a victory. Not the only one, perhaps, and lord knows I don't feel good about it, but I at least feel like the situation has improved, and might continue to do so without me cracking the whip every damn day. Not that I won't, if it's needed.
Now the bad news: Someone apparently dumped a puppy in the neighborhood. I'm not good with dogs, but she looked like a healthy, 12-week-old black lab/pit bull mix, cute as the devil's baby shoes. And FULL OF ENERGY. My God. She followed me for half a mile, cannonballing into my legs every four paces.
I spent a good part of this morning hunting around the neighborhood for her people, found nothing, and then had a neighbor tell me she saw the puppy in the middle of the nearest major intersection early this morning. Fucking tragic. Goddamn irresponsible cockbreath crotch sucking monkey-furred heathens.
None of the other neighbors could be coaxed into taking her even for a couple of hours, so I brought her home, fed her, watered her, and since I can't keep a puppy in the backyard (there's a huge hole in the fence for one), I shipped her off to the animal shelter where, if she has people, they will hopefully have the sense to look for her, and where, if she doesn't, she at least has a chance of finding some.
God dammit.
She's very healthy at least, even if she could stand to put on a pound or so, and the shelter staff thought her chances of being adopted were really, really good. Most of the animals they bring in are sickly or older or skittish, hard to adopt out. Healthy, young, well-socialized animals are comparatively rare.
Better than being street pizza or starving to death, but I still feel like I just sent her off to be murdered.
Dammit all to hell.
Now I understand why people don't get involved. They don't want to be the one to send an animal to be put down. And because nobody's willing to do it, the animals wander around, suffer, and never even have a chance of being adopted before they die horribly.
Well, fuck that noise.
As I have grown up I've come to realize that the deciding factor in being an adult (and in being a leader, for that matter) is not the ability to make a right decision, but the ability to make any decision at all. Especially when no "right" decision presents itself.
So I decide, and even if I fuck up, it's better than having done nothing at all.
Here endeth the lesson.