02-03-2010, 01:20 PM
Actually, it really was.
Here's a story I want to share here, though it's not about Raggies. It's about some other kitties I know.
A lady I know, who has a rescue sanctuary, was driving home in the rain one night and she looked at a house she passed every day, going to and from work. She'd glanced at the house a few times, thinking it looked abandoned and it was a shame because the house had been nice before it had been last rented out. For some reason, she was bothered, that night. Something made her want to go there, though she saw nothing unusual, it had been pouring rain all day, and she had a cast on her broken left leg. So, she did what any sensible person would do-she turned the car around and drove up into the creepy, trash-filled front yard, turned off the car and left the lights on, then hopped herself to the house with nothing but a flashlight.
Fifty feet from the house, the smell hit her and she knew there were cats inside and that they needed help. She shone her flashlight in the window of the house and saw what every decent creature dreads-cats all alone. They were crying, climbing over one another, picking their way around their own waste on the floor. Ten, twelve? There turned out to be 13 of them.
She turned away from the sight, planning to go back to the car and call for help. Halfway there, she thought she heard something-metal clanking, whimpers. She turned around and hopped her way around the side of the house. What she saw was much worse than the cats plight. Another thirteen (why?) dogs. They were chained to stakes and trees. Some had run around the trees and wound themselves into a tangle with others. One had dug a hole, then found himself stuck in it while the rain filled up the hole. She turned her flashlight on another. It was the source of the whimpering because it was covered with ants and they were biting. The lady ran and grabbed a garden hose and turned it on the dog full blast-the fastest way she could think to get those ants off. She said, "I was crying my head off, bleeding because I'd fallen down, trying to balance on one leg in the mud, and the dog was yelping."
Eventually, everyone got a pet, soft coaxing, a bowl of water, and a small handful of kibble. Yes, she does carry kibble around with her.
The lady finally made it to her car and called the police to witness the seizure. Then she called a man who helps at the shelter and told him to bring the truck and every crate he could lay hands on. She repeated that call to another shelter.
When the police came, they officially declared the house abandoned, so the lady could start evacuations. One burly officer strode right into the house-then right back out to the yard and lost his lunch. The lady said she'd have laughed if she hadn't been so miserable, herself.
Suddenly, a car roared into the yard and screeched to a halt. A wild looking woman and several children piled out of the car. The woman started screaming, saying they were stealing her "pets" and she'd shoot them if they didn't get off her property. The police told her she'd abandoned the property and animals, so she had no "pets". She was also told she had two minutes to call someone to come pick up the car and the kids becaused she was going to jail.
The dogs were all petted and coaxed into carriers and carted off to her shelter. The cats went to her vet's office because they all needed care.
Nelson and I spent the hot summer weekend bathing dogs and not a one of them minded. Most grinned and kissed us for the cool, clean skin so new feeling. We fenced in extra land for the needed space, added little houses, placed buckets for food and water. We felt like we were HGTV decorators.
We even got to be on local TV, and that was a great boost for those animals. I was the one up to my armpits in dirty, soapy water with sweat and hair strands stringing down my face. 
That night, before we went home, I asked what we needed to do for the cats. The lady said they needed to be fostered as soon as they'd been speutered and she'd call me.
A week later, we were riding home with three unhappy cats in crates in the back of the car. Two were adopted in a couple of weeks; Saffron and Sapphire. Only one left. She was a tiny and timid little thing, all blotchy calico patches, squeaky little mews, and she'd been the very worst about their first bath the day we brought her home. Those polydactyl extra claws come in handy.
Last night, she flew across the bed so Daddy could see how fast and beautiful she is. He noticed and we started one of those disgusting PDAs he and she get into. Widget has never looked back to that awful time in her life. She doesn't remember that she missed meals and there was no litter box. I don't think she even remembers before there was her special and private very own Daddy who loves her more than anyone else. She feels the same about him.
We call the funny voice she uses "the Burble" and we play "Burbles" at night. She parks herself in her usual spot on Nelson's chest and Nelson and I take turns touching her when she's not looking. If you get a burble, it's the next person's turn. Last one to get a burble wins. Nelson cheats, however. He's taught her to burble if he points at her. Sneak!
I told this story because some folks have asked for a rescue tale. I chose this one because I want you to know how unusual and brave some people are-just Because. I don't think I have the courage or fortitude to do what that lady did. But then, she has lousy people skills and really stinks at adoption interviews.
Together, we make some animals happy. My point is: Every single act of kindness you do for an animal is sorely needed in this world. It doesn't matter if you slog through the mud to seize animals, do adoptions, donate food, stick a dollar in the box when you check out at PetSmart- IT ALL COUNTS! And, what better reward than a purr or a wag?
Thanks for taking the time to read.
janilee
Here's a story I want to share here, though it's not about Raggies. It's about some other kitties I know.
A lady I know, who has a rescue sanctuary, was driving home in the rain one night and she looked at a house she passed every day, going to and from work. She'd glanced at the house a few times, thinking it looked abandoned and it was a shame because the house had been nice before it had been last rented out. For some reason, she was bothered, that night. Something made her want to go there, though she saw nothing unusual, it had been pouring rain all day, and she had a cast on her broken left leg. So, she did what any sensible person would do-she turned the car around and drove up into the creepy, trash-filled front yard, turned off the car and left the lights on, then hopped herself to the house with nothing but a flashlight.
Fifty feet from the house, the smell hit her and she knew there were cats inside and that they needed help. She shone her flashlight in the window of the house and saw what every decent creature dreads-cats all alone. They were crying, climbing over one another, picking their way around their own waste on the floor. Ten, twelve? There turned out to be 13 of them.
She turned away from the sight, planning to go back to the car and call for help. Halfway there, she thought she heard something-metal clanking, whimpers. She turned around and hopped her way around the side of the house. What she saw was much worse than the cats plight. Another thirteen (why?) dogs. They were chained to stakes and trees. Some had run around the trees and wound themselves into a tangle with others. One had dug a hole, then found himself stuck in it while the rain filled up the hole. She turned her flashlight on another. It was the source of the whimpering because it was covered with ants and they were biting. The lady ran and grabbed a garden hose and turned it on the dog full blast-the fastest way she could think to get those ants off. She said, "I was crying my head off, bleeding because I'd fallen down, trying to balance on one leg in the mud, and the dog was yelping."
Eventually, everyone got a pet, soft coaxing, a bowl of water, and a small handful of kibble. Yes, she does carry kibble around with her.
The lady finally made it to her car and called the police to witness the seizure. Then she called a man who helps at the shelter and told him to bring the truck and every crate he could lay hands on. She repeated that call to another shelter.
When the police came, they officially declared the house abandoned, so the lady could start evacuations. One burly officer strode right into the house-then right back out to the yard and lost his lunch. The lady said she'd have laughed if she hadn't been so miserable, herself.
Suddenly, a car roared into the yard and screeched to a halt. A wild looking woman and several children piled out of the car. The woman started screaming, saying they were stealing her "pets" and she'd shoot them if they didn't get off her property. The police told her she'd abandoned the property and animals, so she had no "pets". She was also told she had two minutes to call someone to come pick up the car and the kids becaused she was going to jail.
The dogs were all petted and coaxed into carriers and carted off to her shelter. The cats went to her vet's office because they all needed care.
Nelson and I spent the hot summer weekend bathing dogs and not a one of them minded. Most grinned and kissed us for the cool, clean skin so new feeling. We fenced in extra land for the needed space, added little houses, placed buckets for food and water. We felt like we were HGTV decorators.
We even got to be on local TV, and that was a great boost for those animals. I was the one up to my armpits in dirty, soapy water with sweat and hair strands stringing down my face. That night, before we went home, I asked what we needed to do for the cats. The lady said they needed to be fostered as soon as they'd been speutered and she'd call me.
A week later, we were riding home with three unhappy cats in crates in the back of the car. Two were adopted in a couple of weeks; Saffron and Sapphire. Only one left. She was a tiny and timid little thing, all blotchy calico patches, squeaky little mews, and she'd been the very worst about their first bath the day we brought her home. Those polydactyl extra claws come in handy.
Last night, she flew across the bed so Daddy could see how fast and beautiful she is. He noticed and we started one of those disgusting PDAs he and she get into. Widget has never looked back to that awful time in her life. She doesn't remember that she missed meals and there was no litter box. I don't think she even remembers before there was her special and private very own Daddy who loves her more than anyone else. She feels the same about him.
We call the funny voice she uses "the Burble" and we play "Burbles" at night. She parks herself in her usual spot on Nelson's chest and Nelson and I take turns touching her when she's not looking. If you get a burble, it's the next person's turn. Last one to get a burble wins. Nelson cheats, however. He's taught her to burble if he points at her. Sneak!
I told this story because some folks have asked for a rescue tale. I chose this one because I want you to know how unusual and brave some people are-just Because. I don't think I have the courage or fortitude to do what that lady did. But then, she has lousy people skills and really stinks at adoption interviews.
Together, we make some animals happy. My point is: Every single act of kindness you do for an animal is sorely needed in this world. It doesn't matter if you slog through the mud to seize animals, do adoptions, donate food, stick a dollar in the box when you check out at PetSmart- IT ALL COUNTS! And, what better reward than a purr or a wag?Thanks for taking the time to read.
janilee
What an absolutely beautiful end to a horrid event...bless that woman, and bless those furbabies, so glad they were saved