Why I Hate People

(Updates at bottom of post.)

This month was supposed to be "No Woe" month on this blog, but fuck it. When human beings are as barbaric as they are to each other, it's futile to pretend that refusing to address the negativity in the world will somehow make life better.

See the dog in this picture? This is Buju. He was adopted from the Animal Rescue League, where I volunteer.

Buju was loyal, friendly and beautiful. But, because his mom decided to move to a place that didn't take pets, she brought him to the ARL. I worked with this dog nearly every day. I walked this dog. I played ball with this dog. This dog missed his mom so much that he would curl up against the cage after a walk and allow himself to be petted, against the bars, for as long as I was willing to kneel beside him, because all he wanted was to go home.

I knew this dog.

Then this happened.

Fuck people. Fuck each and every motherfucker out there. Fuck the people who think dogs don't matter. Fuck the people who think "there was nothing we could do," or that this isn't a "real problem," or the sign of a society so impossibly fucked up that this passes for "minor news."

Fuck the woman who decided her dog was so inconvenient to her personal life that he had to be put in a shelter. Fuck the newpaper for thinking the ARL would have euthanized Buju (he wouldn't have been on the adoption floor if that were the case).

But especially fuck the bastard who did this. It's times like these I wish I believed in hell, because that's where I'd like to see you burn for eternity, you heartless, disgusting waste.

Fuck you.

*UPDATE* 12:43 PM -- Looks like they found the bastard. (Thanks to Sunil for the link.)

*UPDATE* 1:58 PM -- I just had conversations (both in person and via email) with a couple ARL employees about the possibility of improving the check-up system. Evidently, they DO do (minimal) follow-ups on adopted animals via phone, and they also make suggestions on resources people can use if their adopted animal still has behavioral issues, etc. (Thus, I've retracted that accusation from my earlier rant.)

However, they assured me there's no chance of the follow-up procedure changing. In essence, making it harder to adopt dogs would mean more dogs would be put to sleep. Thus, they're already doing the best they can.

I call bullshit.

It was also pointed out to me that, in this particular case, there was nothing the ARL could have done to prevent this because the original owner reclaimed her own dog and THEN gave him away. As far as the ARL is (legally) concerned, there were no further actions they could take.

Ironically, this makes me even MORE frustrated...

I believe I may take a break from the ARL for the moment. Granted, it's not the dogs' fault they're in there. But when you're presented with an opportunity to look yourself in the eye and say, "Yes, we need to improve what we're doing," and all you can come up with is "It could be worse" or "We're doing the best we can," it turns my stomach.

I'm sick of mediocrity passing for quality in this world; is mediocrity now passing for goodness too?

Zelda Only Got One Walk

Since we can't have pets in our apartment, Ann and I have been volunteering as dog walkers at the Animal Rescue League for the past month or so. It's a great experience, and I always wish there were more time in the day so I could walk more dogs. (The average walk lasts anywhere from 5 minutes to half an hour, depending upon need and inclination.)

Today was Memorial Day (here in the States, anyway), so the shelter was closed. However, they asked volunteers to come in and help all the dogs get at least one "long-ish" walk for the day -- 10 minutes plus. (Every dog gets a "pee walk" in the morning, which is usually as short as it needs to be -- just so the housebroken dogs don't have an accident and the non-housebroken dogs can start learning.)

Ann and I were there for about 90 minutes, and we were able to walk about 10 of the dogs. Other volunteers were there earlier in the day, and among us, all but four of the dogs had been able to get out for their "long-ish" walk with fifteen minutes left in the day.

Ann and I, along with another volunteer, Wendy, got three of the last four dogs out for their extra walk before the shelter closed for the day (to us). Unfortunately, Zelda -- an adorable mutt who happens to be gigantic, and therefore intimidating to walk -- was the only one who didn't get out twice. Her cage also happens to be situated near one of the doors, where she probably saw other dogs going in and out all day, wondering when her turn would come.

I don't pretend to understand the minds of dogs, but I understand the mind of me, and I know I felt soooooo guilty for not sticking around long enough to get Zelda out. Maybe she's wondering if she did something wrong. Maybe she's wondering if she was forgotten about.

The funny thing is, on days when Ann and I are the ONLY volunteers who come through, we feel good to get 4 or 5 dogs out for a walk. At least we did something, we rationalize. But when all but one dog gets a walk, that's even more depressing.

Zelda, I owe you one.