To save a life

I have always had pets. I have had pets when I wasn't supposed to have pets. There was the time I snuck two cats into an apartment, saying I was cat sitting for a friend. I suspect the landlord knew the truth, especially when the cats never left, but he graciously let me slide. There was no way I was going to give up my kitties.

The pets I have had, with the exception of various rodents and fish, have always come from the local animal shelters. I do believe in saving a life. There is no particular breed of dog or cat I simply must have. I like to think that the animal has just as much choice in the matter of choosing me as I have of choosing them. So for these reasons I go to the animal shelter to find my pets.

When I went to our local shelter to find a kitty this past week, it was truly a heart wrenching experience. As soon as the shelter opened to the public, a small line had formed behind the desk. There seemed to be two types of expressions on the faces of the people coming into the shelter. Some faces showed the joyful anticipation of seeking a new furry footed companion to bring home. But the other faces showed the pain and anguish of having to give up a beloved pet.

It is in all the newspapers lately. This economy has driven some people to have to give up their pets because they simply cannot afford to care for them any longer. Let's face it, pets cost money, sometimes lots of money. Between food, and toys, and especially the vet bills, some people just can't do it. Granted, there are many other reasons a pet will be sent to a shelter. Some animals just don't get along with their owners or children. Some become aggressive due to lack of good training. And some animals get left at the shelter for pure human spite.

As we were driving in to the shelter, a very angry woman leapt out of the car next to ours. She held a leash and out jumped a beautiful collie mix. Before we even had time to get out of the car, she had already been inside the shelter and had stormed back to her car and sped off. My internal question of "What in the hell just happened here?" was answered some time after my visiting the shelter.

A man hurried in as I was waiting in a line asking about whether a dog had been brought in. When the dog was described, the shelter employees burst out with, "You mean the dog that was thrown in the door by some woman?" At this the man sheepishly muttered, "Yes that woman is my wife." "So you want to reclaim the dog?" one of the animal attendants asked. "Yeah, if that is what you wanna call it," the man retorted. Soon enough the same dog that had been but a blur to me came out to be reunited with his rightful owner. I couldn't imagine the story behind such cruel action on the part of his wife. I was not even there for twenty minutes and already I was privy to a not so private drama unfolding before my eyes.

There were other stories also in the making while I waited in line. A woman sat on a bench, holding a small brown dog, as her husband or boyfriend was filling out paperwork to release the dog to the shelter. The woman mournfully held onto her dog, her eyes were red from crying. Another woman, who was waiting in line, reached out to touch her shoulder and asked her if she was okay. The woman holding the dog couldn't even get the words out. I looked at the dog and worried for its future. I felt helpless, standing in line, while someone else was having their heart ripped out.

A young woman came through the doors next. She had black short hair, the color of glossy patent leather shoes. Her t-shirt read, "Sex instructor, first lesson free." The frivolity of her attire was in direct opposition to the expression on her face. Like the woman sitting on the bench, she was also bringing in her dog to be taken by the shelter. The two dogs barked and tugged at their leashes. They had no idea of the meaning of being taken to such a place. Soon both dogs would be led away from their owners to live in the confines of a cage. Both women were softly crying and petting their dogs.

By the time I got to the front of the line, I felt like an emotional wreck.

"I would like to see the kitties please. I wish to adopt one today."

I went back to the cat room full of cages. All eyes were upon me as I went from cage to cage. Some cats were full of energy, pacing and hollering, trying desperately to be heard. And some cats were quiet and pensive. I talked to a male cat named Captain Black. He seemed a character. Then there were the kittens. The shelter had the kittens grouped in cages with their siblings. After much looking and talking to cats, I spied one little kitty who was swatting through the bars. I felt it was a sign that she wanted me. There were two cats in the cage and they looked like twins. Both were tuxedo cats, predominantly black but with white underbellies and paws. I read the large tag attached to the cage. Two names were there, Angelina and Gina. How would anyone tell them apart? The information seemed the same for both.

I tried to ask a volunteer for help but she quickly muttered, "I have to get a cat, I will be back later." And then she was gone. Another volunteer came in to tell me that I needed to wear a yellow medical gown and put on some rubber gloves if I wanted to handle any of the cats. As soon as his words were out of his mouth, he also disappeared into an adjoining room. A woman with gloves, a medical gown, and hat came in looking flustered as I tried to eek out, "How can I tell Angelina from Gina...." But she dismissed me with, "I am sorry, I am part of the vet team here, I cannot answer your question." Clearly all the workers there,both paid and unpaid, were working their butts off. Finally the first volunteer came back all smiles and opened the cage so that I could finally get to hold my kitten who I found was named Gina. The volunteer urged me to rename her anything I liked. I immediately thought of "Mew Mew the Kung Foo Kitty" as she kept trying to swat at me like a skilled martial artist.

As I held my little purring bundle of black and white fur and peering little eyes, I don't think I need to tell you that it was love at first sight. I was happy but also sad for all the other animals I could not bring home with me.

Perhaps my kitty would have been adopted by someone if I had not been there. But maybe not. I like to think that I saved a life. Mostly though, I was opening my heart to love again. This is what unites all of us creatures, whether we walk on two legs or four. We all have the capacity to love and be loved. And when my new kitty snuggles up under my chin to fall asleep, I know that this is undoubtedly so.