Gorram Magic Dog

It’s Charlie’s fault. He finds dying kittens, lost dogs, deer, coyotes, and welcomes coons and birds. He got his ear sliced by the brother of Gus, but cats are, you know, bitches. Charlie sure is a looker, but the dude can’t keep paying his rent in rescues. I reckon he doesn’t know how to write grants, either.

Am I the only one faced with these decisions?

I think not. I know this happens to almost everybody: You see a dog wandering the streets. What do you do?

a) Say to yourself, “Bummer. Oh well, he’ll go home – he knows where he’s going.”

b) Say to yourself, “Stupid dog, stupid owners, not my problem.”

c) Pause and gauge the danger from other traffic vs. the dog. Then drive slowly away.

d) Corral the dog, call the owner via any dog tags, ask neighbors, or take him to the pound.

e) Take it home and put him on Craigslist. Then take him to the pound the next morning.

f) Get to your destination, then call Animal Control and report the dog.

I’ve done all of the above at some point in my life. I chose “f” today because I felt I had stretched work to its limit with my recent rescue activities. I’m known as the “Cat Broker.” NO I WILL NOT FIND A HOME FOR YOUR FRIEND’S KITTEN. I needed to come to work near on time today. I could have put her in my fence and then called Animal Control, but Gus was all, “Hail No, Lady. WTF?” So I left that sad, lost yellow lab. She looked right at me as I drove away and she said, “Oh no, what am I supposed to doooo?” It’s when they look at you like that. That’s the thing. How can you turn away?

Hope she’s okay. Hope is basically worry and leaving it up to others. Hope is lame.

UPDATE!!!:

There she was again this evening. Charlie helped me coax her into my yard, and I posted on Craigslist because Animal Control was closed. 15 minutes later the owners came and got her. Then I got 4 phone calls from people who had seen their post on Craigslist and matched it with mine. Then I got 4 more people emailing me matching the postings, all within an hour. I guess I have a little hope now.

Pairs

What do you do with a cock?

I make sounds to attract it, chase it with a blanket, run and laugh, and trap it behind something so I can hold it like a football. Then I take that gorgeous thing somewhere where it can have a harem.

You stupidass green yuppies who think chickens will cure everything. What do you do when a chick grows into a cock? Do you really think there are enough “farms” out of the city limits who will take it? Chances are grim, you idealist fool. You cannot kill and eat what you raise, urban preppy, you just will not. So what then? You take it to the only rescue place that is too full and does not place chickens anyway? You take it to the mountains and leave it to it’s doom? You drop it somewhere where there is land and you think nobody will notice the cockadoodle in the mornings, so inevitably it becomes somebody else’s problem? How very irresponsible.

It’s okay though, right, cuz you think you’re entitled to help yourselves help the world. It ain’t helping. Abandoned cocks is only one problem caused by the ignorant bliss of urban chickens and you.

I hate you. I really do.

Upon threatening to take her to the pound, somebody has claimed her.

That’s how I roll. Tomorrow she will be rescued from the rescuer. A person from work will giver her a loving home, as opposed to the terrible prison of regular eating and Chi Chi growls.