Cat-Molesting Nazi Psychos.
January 9th, 2008 by trancejen
You need to have one squeaky-clean record if you’re going to adopt from the Humane Society, folks.
I was under the impression that a person could just walk in with a smile and out with a cat, but such is not the case. Apparently the good people at the Humane Society are wisely trying to weed the thugs out of the general population in order to rid its clientele of those who indulge in animal sacrifice, petty criminals, cat-molesting Nazi psychos, people who swing animals around by the tail, and those who just consider beagles damn good eatin’.
I still don’t have my kitten, by the way. The poor little pink-eyed bugger is almost well and I’m picking her up on Friday. The J-Man is practically chewing his fingers off in anticipation.
The adoption application is lengthy and somewhat amusing. One is asked to list the names, breeds, and ages of all pets in the household. I briefly considered writing descriptive monikers like “Her Highness, The Lovely Lady Princess FooFoo Pants Ollie Of The South Side” which might have made me sound like more of a devoted crazy cat lady than I already am, but I scrapped the idea because it might have made me sound like more of a former mental patient than I already am.
Another question was: “Describe a typical day in your household.”
I’m sure the correct answer would be something along the lines of how I spend every waking moment babying my little hairballs while I go on about my exciting routine, taking them everywhere I go and being the perfect pet owner, but it goes more a little something like this:
Jen wakes up to cat on face. Detaches cat and swears loudly. Jen then feeds cats, who are going batshit crazy. Gets child ready for school while cat follows Jen like a shadow, constantly getting underfoot and while other, neurologically damaged and quite possibly mentally retarded, cat howls at top of lungs. Jen counts to ten to remember that it is cruel to scream at sick, howling cat, even at three AM. Jen drops cup of coffee when still other, spastic, cat dashes in front of Jen for no apparent reason. Jen swears.
Jen sits in front of computer like zombie or reads while cats congregate for petting. Jen pets cats absently until mouse/book is knocked out of hand by overzealous cat. Jen occasionally watches television, in which case cats are overcome with joy and rapture because petting hands will be free. Jen is coated with cat hair. Jen is allergic to cats and suddenly remembers that she forgot to take allergy medication.
Jen takes care of child, makes dinner, blah blah. The Humane Society does not care about these banal details.
Jen goes downstairs at night and writes on laptop. Favorite (for shame, favorite!) cat stretches out on laptop and purrs. Same cat shares bed and will not cease kneading Jen’s hips, standing on her ass and turning around incessantly, and crying to be petted. Other, neurologically damaged and possibly mentally retarded, cat howls into the night.
This is my day. Instead, I write something about working at home. Do you like that? You are my work. Lord, am I working hard.
Anyway, the application was long, I turned it in, and after two days and a possible background check to ensure that I was not a cat-raping deviant, I was approved. Apparently I am a Good Person, worthy of pet ownership. I am proud of myself.
Since the Humane Society was running a special, “Adopt One, Get One Free!”; I decided to ask my friends and family whether they’d like a kitten, too.
My stepdad took the bait. He has sort of a rambunctious cat and he thinks that maybe it could use some company, a little friend to torture play with. Another kitten might be just the thing.
We went back to the Humane Society under the guise that this kitten would be for me so that he would not have to go through all the paperwork. Sneaky, I know, but I will vouch for my stepdad. He will not swing this cat around by its wee little tail. I swear it. Don’t judge me, people of the Humane Society, should you ever stumble upon this page. I will monitor that kitten as if it were my own and report any signs of abuse and/or neglect. Remember, I am a Good Person.
I feel guilty when I break even the smallest rule. It’s so incredibly lame of me.
Anyway, we went to pick out a kitten. The stepdad picked out a gorgeous little gray striped one with adorable white paws. So cute. Precious, in fact. Teeny-tiny. We played with it a bit in a little room that is reserved for “trying out” pets. It was perfect. We went to the front desk to state our intention to adopt it.
“That kitten already has someone interested. However, if their application is denied for some reason, we can put you down as a second, and you can pick out another animal and for now and see how it goes.”
“Uh, I guess so. OK.”
We figured that there was no way in hell anyone was getting denied. After all, what the heck could you possibly write on your application that would get you shot down at the fricking Humane Society?
We picked out another, older cat, a gorgeous blond beauty who was sort of languid. It had hazel eyes. I’m sort of rah-rah about adopting older cats because I think they have less of a chance, although this was a no-kill shelter.
My stepdad took me home, and he was sort of sad about the kitten, but we figured that it was meant to be, whatever.
Two days later I got a call from the Humane Society.
“Yes, the kitten you wanted? Is available.”
“Why?”
“The person who originally wanted it was denied.”
“Oh! Well, OK?”
“Did you still want it?”
“Well… yeah!”
“OK.”
I was floored. Did the Humane Society run criminal background checks? What did these people say on their application?
Describe a typical day in your household:
I get up around noon, smoke some fuckin’ weed, kick the dog outside (that little FUCKER), feed my iguana some beer, watch some fuckin’ Jerry (JER-RY!), make some pizza rolls, let that fucking dog in and put him in the cage, put the cats out and hope somebody feeds ‘em cause I ain’t feedin’ them goddamn mangy things that whore brought home, no way, she can kiss my fat ass; maybe smoke some more weed, do you know if you blow it into a cat’s ear it gets high? HA HA HA! Then I read some porn and whack off, take a nap for a while, go see Eddie for some more weed, chill out over there for a bit, come home, let that fucking dog out who probably shit all over his cage (FUCKER), and make dinner, then I watch some TV till I go to bed. Maybe I let those cats in because if I don’t they’re going to fucking cry all goddamn night.
Yeah. Or maybe they’re describing their meth lab, how to properly skin and eat a Persian, how sexy a greased-up kitten looks in the moonlight, or why the devil needs kitty’s soul.
I simply don’t get it.
Maybe they had an animal who was microchipped and came back all abused and stuff.
I would sincerely like to know. I’m glad, in a way, because I’ve certainly seen plenty of people that I feel don’t deserve to own an animal; and Dear God, if you’ve ever watched Animal Cops you know that people can be unflinchingly cruel and sadistic toward animals in ways that can blow your fucking tree, but how do they make that decision?
I wonder.
I look at Elmo, who is looking up at me and watching me type, and am glad the typical, boring day in my household does not involve a kick in the ass.
I may be a crazy cat lady but at least I’m not a cat-molesting Nazi psycho.
Happy Wednesday.
Harriet wrote on 01/9/08 at 12:21 pm :
It is harder to get an animal from the Humane Society than it is to acquire a child by conventional methods, which requires no background checking at all. This has always puzzled me. They also won’t let you adopt a puppy or kitten if someone in your house isn’t at home all day. It doesn’t matter if you hire someone to come and sit with the pet. You will be denied. They’re a little more flexible with older pets.
A-ha » Blog Archive » Cat-Molesting Nazi Psychos. wrote on 01/9/08 at 1:11 pm :
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Pacer wrote on 01/9/08 at 1:58 pm :
“How sexy a greased up kitten looks in the moonlight..”
That? Is funny!
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Melanie wrote on 01/9/08 at 2:57 pm :
I currently have a cat curled up on my chest and partially covered with a blankey because he has thin fur and is cold…yeah, my house would probably be considered nirvana by adopted cats. Ironically, both of them came from a rescue organization that did no background check whatsoever — they must figure that if you’re willing to plunk down a C-note for a cat, you’re not going to sacrifice it to the Horned One.
carl wrote on 01/9/08 at 11:58 pm :
As a confirmed cat-lover myself, I had a good laugh regarding your descriptions…they were crazy - wonderful.
Gone are the days when one can just saunter over to the neighbor and select one from the brood of kitties that were born in the neighbor’s closet or some such thing.
As a kid growing up on the farm I have heard horror stories of derranged farmers stuffing cats in a burlap sack and throwing them in the lake! Thank god for humane societies!
Good luck with the new addition to your family and may god have mercy on your allergies!
Please post more often…selfish that I am…I crave to read more of your delightful rants!
Trish wrote on 01/10/08 at 3:09 am :
Things have gone too far, MUCH too far.
I suppose if the available animals (am I allowed to call them animals?) outnumber qualified adopters (is that a word?), they will just exterminate the little critters.
trancejen wrote on 01/10/08 at 11:34 am :
Thankfully the Humane Society I was at was a no-kill shelter, but they weren’t accepting any more animals since they were so overcrowded which kind of sucks…
Pam wrote on 01/10/08 at 6:28 pm :
Jen, your post was hilarious (as always) - but for the people in the comments who are saying that things have gone much too far, that’s not true. I’ve worked in cat rescue and the people who try to adopt are just not to be believed - I’d say I only got one out of five who were suitable (and no, someone didn’t have to be at home all day - but for example the woman who told me she ‘got rid of’ her last cat because it no longer matched her decor (no word of a lie) was certainly denied).
Christine wrote on 01/11/08 at 1:45 am :
“Other, neurologically damaged and possibly mentally retarded, cat howls into the night.”
:’D
Mish wrote on 01/11/08 at 1:59 am :
so does your dad now have 2 new cats, or do you have 2 new cats?
Mish wrote on 01/11/08 at 6:00 pm :
the first time I went to adopt a husky the 5 page application form and HOUSE CHECK freaked me out. But a few months later I wanted him more and more and was ready for house check (i am an odd freak.) I understood about the huge deal b/c though huskies are really cute they are the biggest pain in the ass animals ever AKA escape artists. I only remember one of my answers : “where will your new dog sleep” - hopefully in bed w/ me, but where ever he pleases. I think that was made them forgo the house check (and the $175 fee???) but I have more than made up for that over the years in donations.
Mish wrote on 01/14/08 at 4:36 pm :
i want kitty pics. please.
WCD wrote on 01/14/08 at 4:39 pm :
Dude - I had no idea you were here:):) I almost gave up on you!! Yahoo you are really writing!
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The ex-RL wrote on 01/17/08 at 12:11 am :
Some agencies are insane. I understand protecting animals from torturers, etc., but to deny someone a dog because their fence has A HOLE is ludicrous. I have two indoor cats, and one outdoor cat that adopted us almost two years ago. I will take on any other animals that don’t interfere with the ones that already live here, as evidenced by my former rooster, who now lives in the best part of town due to my efforts.
Kag wrote on 01/21/08 at 3:37 pm :
Luv your posts!