You’re watching a movie and the main character is casually on a run. She looks flawless and at ease until she sees a puppy on the side of the road. The puppy has no collar, and he’s dirty, skinny, and scared. The main character, with her big heart picks up the puppy and brings him home to shower him with love and kindness. You sit there thinking, “Awww, that’s so nice. I wish that would happen to me.”
First of all, it’s an easy pet that costs you no money. Chances are, the puppy is going to love you unconditionally because you gave him food and water, bathed him, and gave him a little puppy bed to sleep soundly. And you’ll share that deep bond that you found one another. How sweet.
A few months ago, I was walking from work to my car and came across a cardboard box that was flailing around. As I got closer, it was a pigeon. Now of course I would never just keep a pigeon. It’s gross, and they don’t exactly snuggle. But the pigeon looked hurt, possibly a broken leg or wing because he was flapping all over the place, stuck in a sad box. I wasn’t sure what to do because last thing I wanted was to pick up the anxiety filled pigeon only to catch some nasty disease that was sure to end the human race forever. So I looked around to find someone but it was just me and this crazy pigeon. Twenty seconds later, the pigeon stopped moving. Eyes wide open, and stone-cold dead. Yeah…you read that right. The pigeon died before my eyes. It was horrifying. I started thinking, is this bad luck? This is how horror movies begin. Is this like Final Destination? A pigeon dies before me and I get trampled by a semi-truck going 100mph on the freeway? Good lord.
I eventually found the maintenance guy and he disposed of the bird. I was so transfixed that I yelled to my employees, “I JUST WATCHED THIS PIGEON DIE!” Nobody cared. It was as if I told them I stepped on an ant. I guess they had to be there.
Naturally I got in my head that I will never come across an animal in need. A friend of mine has saved a goose, birds, squirrels, rats, anything you can think of, she’s saved. She’s like Cinderella. For some reason, they all flock to her.
Well, my wish finally came true.
On Sunday evening, I was a bit cranky and decided to go for a walk. As I strolled, I reached a stop sign and saw a little kitten, all black. He was all alone and looked skinny. There are tons of stray cats in my neighborhood but I rarely come across a kitten. I walked over to him, stuck my hand out and he ran over and rubbed his cuteness all over my arm. A homeless lady sat nearby and said, “He needs a home!” I would have felt too guilty leaving him there, and since there was no foaming at the mouth, I scooped him up and walked half a mile with him in my arms. It was a little bizarre to see that he didn’t try to run away from me. The first thing I said when I got home to Sam was, “Please don’t be mad at me.”
He scarfed down wet food, and I gave him a bath, which he loathed. He is the total opposite of my cat, Mumford in the fact that he loves to cuddle, play, and chase you. He’s still learning to not roll around in his poop in the litter box, and that I can’t give him an entire can of wet food or his tummy will explode. Being the stray that he is, he hissed at Mumford and tried swiping at him, and Mumford fought back saying, “BITCH, THIS IS MY HOUSE. BACK UP!” Since then, they’ve been “okay friends”. But, you can definitely tell there is some petty jealousy on Mumford’s account because he gives me that look when I don’t pay attention to him.
We unfortunately cannot keep this ball of cuteness:
Hopefully we will find a home for him soon. I don’t necessarily like waking up to poop in the bath tub, as much as I love him.