The inside of the condo is cold enough this morning (66 degrees on the thermostat) that I have to turn on the heat! It got into the 40s last night, and today’s high is only supposed to be 61. I start out with a Florida Navel orange and coffee, and a little later have oatmeal and a piece of peanut butter toast. My second shift of the week at the Animal Shelter starts at noon, so I spend the morning doing blog and internet.
I pack a sandwich and my gym bag and head over the shelter and sign in. I help adopt out two kitties, one goes to an androgynous couple in their 20s where I can’t really tell if they’re both girls or boys or one of each, or whatever, so I just refer to them in the generic “you guys.” But at least they have their own cat carrier to take the kitty home, so it looks like they have a clue. The other adopter is well-dressed 40s something cougar with a boob job who’s dressed in form-fitting designer clothes and wants me to know she lives in “Doctor Phillips” which is a tony suburb of Orlando (that is really the name of the city; I’m not making it up). She also announces she just finished shopping at the Millenia Mall and decided on her way home that wanted a kitten because she thought it would be “fun for the holidays.” She does mention that she has a 17-year old cat at the house, so I have to assume she knows what she’s getting into, i.e., long-term commitment. So we fix her up with a cardboard kitty carrier, a “goodie bag” and send her on her way with a kitten.
The highlight of my day is dealing with a despondent woman who was just released from the hospital, and is obviously on pain medication (and appears that she drove herself here) and she’s all broken up because her black cat ran away. Yes, it’s an outdoor cat, and the poor critter probably ran away while the gal was in the hospital because it wasn’t getting any food and just decided to fuck it and fend for itself out in the wild. (It always amazes me that people are surprised when an outdoor cat – or an outdoor-indoor cat -- goes missing. I mean, if you’re going to allow a cat to go outdoors, you’re basically flipping the middle finger to the gods of fate, are you not?) I take her back to the “restricted area” where the shelter keeps its feral cats, and the sick and injured, and the anti-social cats (some of whom have bitten shelter staff or guests). This is the area where most of the "runaways" end up. Basically, these are the hardest of the hard-luck cases, and there are extremely few happy endings here. Most of these kitties end up being euthanized. There is a black shorthair in residence here who looks like a nice kitty, but she is totally blind, and it just breaks my heart. But who among us reading this blog would have the time and patience to give this kitty a home?
So anyway, despondent lady finds a black cat in the population that she thinks may be hers. The cat is in the “inside box” (each cat cage has a “cage within in a cage” where the cat can be confined when the cage has to be cleaned, or whatever). The inner box has a closeable side flap, a carrying handle on the top, and a plexiglass front that can be raised, but stays in the closed position when not lifted by hand. So I unlock the cage, and we each take turns sticking our heads into the cage so we can see if the kitty has a clipped ear, which the lady says would help her positively ID the cat. We are getting nowhere, because the inside of the cage is too dark, and the kitty is crouched down in the box. So I close the door on the “main cage” and chase down an animal control officer to take this kitty out of the cage so she can get a better look. She proceeds to tell her story again to the animal control officer while I unlock the cage and I and the lady take turns looking inside the cage again.
The officer tells both of us to back away from the cage because these problem kitties can go ballistic at any moment and attack. He removes the inner cage, closing the flap of course, and gets a flashlight, raises the plexiglass front, and shines the light on the kitty. No clipped ear. Lady proceeds to look at other kitties, and the officer motions for me to accompany him down a hallway. I have little doubt as to what’s coming.
The guy is very nice about it, but in so many words tells me not to mess with these cats. That if someone really wants to see one of these animals, the one and only correct response is to summon an animal control officer. I apologize profusely and tell him I got caught up in the woman’s emotion, and the cat didn’t seem to be agitated, so I decided to look at the kitty, but that was a bad call on my part, and it won’t happen again. He tells me there have been those before me who thought they were the “kitty whisperer” and opened a cage on a seemingly calm cat, only to have their face and hands/arms severely scratched, not to mention the extreme pain in the ass of recapturing the animal if it bolts from the cage, which is usually does. So here endeth the lesson, hence the title of today’s blog entry.
Despondent lady leaves the shelter to points unknown. The rest of the day passes quickly and without further incident. I am falling in love with a couple of cats here: one is a grey/white tabby with six toes on each of her front paws. She is a lover. The other is a sweet calico girl who is frightened, and she howls when I take her out of the cage, but settles down when I hold her and sit with her awhile. I think she would make a good kitty for someone; she is just frightened out of her mind.
I leave the shelter at 4 p.m. and head over to the gym where I have a nice workout and swim. Tonight is comedy night on NBC, so I want to get home in time to watch. I hit a McDonald’s next to the fitness center for a side salad to go with what I am preparing at the condo tonight. I more or less vowed to stay away from McD’s while here, but I figure I can make an exception for a side salad, plus they are only a dollar.
Back at the condo, I prepare a sirloin steak (pan seared), baked potato (cooked the microwave and finished in the regular oven at 350 degrees for 10 minutes) and the salad. Miraculously, I get it all done in time for “Parks and Recreation” so sit at the coffee table in front of the TV and watch while eating my steak dinner. It’s not bad, but damn there is just no substitute for a grilled steak. This is followed by “The Office,” which is also very funny. I particularly enjoyed the gag with Kevin and the oatmeal, if anyone else was watching. I skip “Whitney” this evening. I started watching this show this season, but am losing interest. The show has basically one funny gag, and they just keep playing it over and over -- minor variations on a theme. There are better things to do, which this evening consists of calling (sister) Dawn and catching up with her on the news back home.
To bed around 10:30. Today was a cheap day, consisting of 65 cents for a diet Coke from the employee vending machine at the shelter, and a dollar for a drive-thru salad at McD’s.
Bruce
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