No kill animal shelters are liars. They say no kill because they catagorize their killing. To them, killing is done just because. But euthanasia is done if the quality of life of the cat would be low.
In your head, you might be thinking, well if the animal is dying then maybe its necessary. Maybe.
But that’s not the only circumstance that they ‘euthanize’. They do so also if they feel it would be hard to get the animal adopted. How do I know? Well here’s a heartbreaking story.
A few years ago my mom, who loves all animals and kitties and doggos especially, found a small litter of kittens without their mother. The mother cat did not come back. So she took the 3 kittens in. She hand fed them for a couple of days but was unable to find them homes and had 3 cats of her own. She was full up. So she found a no kill shelter. In this case the Arizona Humane Society.
She took them and they cooed and awed over the kitties. After 2 days, she decided she could make room for the kitties and went back. 1 had been adopted. 2 had been killed.
For what reason? Terminal illness? No. Because they were black. Black cats are killed. Its their policy. Black cats are harder to adopt. So they murdered 2 innocent kittens.
No kill is a lie that they tell themselves to assuage their guilt over their actual actions.
cats
I can make anything depressing
I will never be as excited as my cat.
She’s just discovered at 10 years old that she loves going outside. But only with an escort.
So I take her out to the backyard and she munches on grass and looks around. She is so happy. She crys to go out and she almost never crys for anything.
Even when she wants into my bedroom, she’ll just sit calmly out side the door. Quiet as can be. Waiting to be let in.
I’ll never be as excited as her but I get to give her that. It’s the same thing I’d do for anyone I love. Attempt to give them or help them get the thing that makes them most excited. Selfishly. So that I can feel a bit of what they feel. Just for a few minutes.
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Holidays are approaching
I’ve stayed up way too late doing nothing in particular. Watching strange shows from Brazil with great English voice dubbing. Looking at my phone wanting to feel connected…
Then it flashes me the battery warning and I think, “probably time to go to bed.” My cats asleep in the middle of my bed and I’ll displace her so instead I remember I need to write a post for tomorrow.
This week is Thanksgiving in the USA. Another holiday that has its roots in blood. As if all holidays aren’t problematic icons embodied in a yearly ritual to enshrine the victory of one group over another. I mean it’s hypocritical to teach that it’s about some historical togetherness and all but I question whether or not that actually matters. Knowing the truth about history is a good thing and it can help avoid past mistakes in favor of all new atrocities.
But being mad about a holiday seems pointless. Get together and change it if you need to. Change the name and people’s cultural relationship to it. But mostly, it’s an excuse.
That correct. All holidays are an excuse. Mostly it’s to take a day off. For those lucky enough to be able to afford it. And even for those who can’t, its the opportunity to say fuck it, I’m taking this time for myself. For my family, if you’re into that kind straight laced social structure. It’s a way to be irresponsible in a state sanctioned corporate sponsored commercially acceptable way.
And it’s a time to say hi to that cousin you only vaguely remember. To try to restrain yourself, or maybe this is just me, from getting into sociopolitical arguments with people capable of only spouting talking points and appeals to authority. (Headline-If you are making an appeal to authority without data to back it up, you’ve already lost the argument.) And eat food you wouldn’t normally eat.
Some people, mythically to my mind, get to hang out with friends and have fun. I’ve never seen it, except on Single person Christmas, aka Halloween, and even then that a socially awkward sexually charged powder keg. It’s one overly fruity mixed drink away from making a pass at your married boss with his wife right there. Or laughing at someone’s use of fetish gear as costume and demonstrating proper flogger technique in front of people you know are friends of friends who will spread that like wildfire.
Not that this is a bad thing, I just don’t like awkward conversations about what drunk, no filter me, said when I am sober slight filter me.
Maybe I’m just not who these Holidays are aimed at. I know there are people who love this stuff. Love the gossip about nothing and the skirting of taboo topics at least until someone says grace.
Another thing I don’t do. I’m fairly certain my lip service Christian family would neither take a blessing from my faith nor would my faith be likely to bestow blessings. Honestly, if asked for a blessing, I think the proper response would be something like, “The choices we make have consequences. Whether those consequences are good or bad depends on where you are standing when they occur. This means that whether we act or not, either is a choice. Make sure you make your choices wherever possible. Don’t allow your choices to make you.”
But there is no appeal to a higher authority which seems to be the point of prayer.
So maybe I just don’t get it. Or maybe I do. But in any case, Holidays are meant for people to pause and see. To look around in the frenetic drawn out scream, and maybe, for once, listen.
But what do I know? I’m just a man who needs to move his cat, so he can go to sleep.
Pelgris 