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Mission Unpossible
Jun. 2nd, 2002 10:00 amSo I was a little cranky yesterday. We spent many hours of our life in a sad City of Chicago shelter after actually finding a dog I wanted to take home, but we were unable to complete the mission because we didn't have a copy of the lease on us, and the landlord wasn't available by phone to confirm that dogs are allowed in our apartment. Of course, they might have reached someone in the office if they had called at 4:30 pm when I submitted the paperwork, but 2 hours later when they finally called my name, wait scratch that, supposedly they called my name an hour and a half earlier, but I was sitting in the lobby the whole time and never heard it. ANYWAY, I was mad. It was the conglomeration of disappointments -- the long-ass drive there and back, the long-ass wait, the sadness of the puppies and dogs in small pens having to sleep in their own filth because they only get out on the weekends, the disappointment of going home dog-less even though we had already created a short list of possible names, and feeling guilty that we couldn't rescue her right then -- she has to spend a couple more days there.
But today I'm feeling far less upset. I was also agitated last night by a number of other random situations. The apartment suddenly seemed like a massive crowded dump of random materials. Pieces of paper or boxes or old mail sits in the same spot on the floor for weeks before one of us actually moves it. We are immobilized by inertia. A bottle of lotion falls on the floor in the bathroom and could remain there for a month. An empty drink bottle will sit on a cabinet for weeks. What's wrong with us?
Wait, I need to say that again. What's wrong with us?
The worst part is that we just discovered that we occasionally pick up after the other person and feel very sell-righteous in our feelings that at least we're not as bad as the other one.
I will say it one last time. What's wrong with us? I guess my new goal is to not be a cleaning martyr.
But anyway, back to doggies. Today I'm calling the shelter and giving them an alternate number to a landlord -- perhaps there's even a small chance they'll get a hold of him today. Otherwise we might try and pick her up tomorrow or Tuesday, depending on work and traffic and exams.
I'm a little afraid that she might get adopted by someone else in the meantime, but when I call today I'll inquire about "holding" her. I can't really blame them for having a policy of no holds, since they're trying to adopt out as many dogs as possible, and they don't know that we're committed to her specifically. And since the dogs only get 30 days in the "adoption pen" I don't want to use up some of her days losing opportunities.
The facility was so sad and heartbreaking, but I was remarkably realistic and undramatic about the whole ordeal. I very much support no-kill shelters and if I ever had to relinquish a pet, that's where I'd send it. But the main reason they're able to be no-kill shelter is probably they limit the amount of animals they accept -- the city animal control doesn't really have that option.
I used to be quite the mini-animal rights activist. Soon after getting my cat Max, I sent 5 dollars to human society agency that had Doris Day as a spokesperson. About once a month I would get the mailings, with "personalized" letters and pamplets and envelopes to send them more money. I felt so adult to be part of something bigger than my little microcosm of elementary school. I didn't feel the leat bit guilty for checking the "other" box and writing in the number 5, which was a significantly lower dollar amount than all the pre-marked boxes. I knew I was giving a lot, since 5 dollars was more than my weekly allowance. This is back in the day when I actually tithed at the church too.
Nowadays I don't relinquish much money to charitable causes. Except when I have friends who do bike rides and 3-day walks. I guess buying tickets to plays is quasi-supportive if the theater is a non-profit, but that sort of feels like a stretch. Hell, I don't even donate to the organization I work for -- I figure I'm donating my time and the salary difference between what I get paid and what I would be getting paid in the private sector.
But something about yesterday tapped into that part of me that was super-committed to being aligned with some sort of 'cause', in a monetary sense. I don't think I'll start joining Greenpeace and Planned Parenthood and the illiteracy program, even though they're all worthy causes. Instead I 'donate' my money to Visa, Discover, and Mastercard.
But today I'm feeling far less upset. I was also agitated last night by a number of other random situations. The apartment suddenly seemed like a massive crowded dump of random materials. Pieces of paper or boxes or old mail sits in the same spot on the floor for weeks before one of us actually moves it. We are immobilized by inertia. A bottle of lotion falls on the floor in the bathroom and could remain there for a month. An empty drink bottle will sit on a cabinet for weeks. What's wrong with us?
Wait, I need to say that again. What's wrong with us?
The worst part is that we just discovered that we occasionally pick up after the other person and feel very sell-righteous in our feelings that at least we're not as bad as the other one.
I will say it one last time. What's wrong with us? I guess my new goal is to not be a cleaning martyr.
But anyway, back to doggies. Today I'm calling the shelter and giving them an alternate number to a landlord -- perhaps there's even a small chance they'll get a hold of him today. Otherwise we might try and pick her up tomorrow or Tuesday, depending on work and traffic and exams.
I'm a little afraid that she might get adopted by someone else in the meantime, but when I call today I'll inquire about "holding" her. I can't really blame them for having a policy of no holds, since they're trying to adopt out as many dogs as possible, and they don't know that we're committed to her specifically. And since the dogs only get 30 days in the "adoption pen" I don't want to use up some of her days losing opportunities.
The facility was so sad and heartbreaking, but I was remarkably realistic and undramatic about the whole ordeal. I very much support no-kill shelters and if I ever had to relinquish a pet, that's where I'd send it. But the main reason they're able to be no-kill shelter is probably they limit the amount of animals they accept -- the city animal control doesn't really have that option.
I used to be quite the mini-animal rights activist. Soon after getting my cat Max, I sent 5 dollars to human society agency that had Doris Day as a spokesperson. About once a month I would get the mailings, with "personalized" letters and pamplets and envelopes to send them more money. I felt so adult to be part of something bigger than my little microcosm of elementary school. I didn't feel the leat bit guilty for checking the "other" box and writing in the number 5, which was a significantly lower dollar amount than all the pre-marked boxes. I knew I was giving a lot, since 5 dollars was more than my weekly allowance. This is back in the day when I actually tithed at the church too.
Nowadays I don't relinquish much money to charitable causes. Except when I have friends who do bike rides and 3-day walks. I guess buying tickets to plays is quasi-supportive if the theater is a non-profit, but that sort of feels like a stretch. Hell, I don't even donate to the organization I work for -- I figure I'm donating my time and the salary difference between what I get paid and what I would be getting paid in the private sector.
But something about yesterday tapped into that part of me that was super-committed to being aligned with some sort of 'cause', in a monetary sense. I don't think I'll start joining Greenpeace and Planned Parenthood and the illiteracy program, even though they're all worthy causes. Instead I 'donate' my money to Visa, Discover, and Mastercard.
