Humane vs Human Society

May 2011, I adopted an orange tabby cat from the Humane Society.  My new tabby was chosen for his circumstance, name (eventually changed), color and researched disposition.  I  needed a new companion that wouldn’t “bark at me” morning, afternoon, night! Or pounce me . . . and hurt me.  When I brought my new companion home in a cardboard box, I already had his safe place chosen.   There were lots of boxes to explore, things to jump on, but more importantly, there were places he could hide and feel safe.    My new furry friend was gaining freedom. He needed to learn to trust again.   We had allot in common.

 

I had been trying to find respite out of town from the DV spouse. Upon returning, my employee noticed two weeks in a row, that the cat had relieved himself week #1  carpet, week #2 the couch.  “Someone” closed the basement door.  We quickly put 2+2 together to realize that he was purposely kept from using the litter box.  Of course, I left it open for him to access his food, drink, and litter box.

Always receiving concern and compassion from patrons at work, one lesson night I mentioned to a 15 year old student that my cat had been denied access to his litter box.  In a split second, he remarked “that’s animal cruelty!” .   I agreed, but mentioned that my elderly mother had been locked out of the household bathroom for months, and — NO ONE — seemed to question that action. Concern for a cat overshadowed the bizarre treatment of an 82 year old woman.

The emotional, mental, financial and physical abuse I endured for years — severely in the last two years — was minimized, overlooked.     Even all the provable and documented offenses have been dismissed by legal counsel — some of which were perpetrated by the neighboring, vindictive defendant’s counsel.  I was able to evacuate my home physically unharmed, cat in bag, employee got in his father’s car.   But such extreme dichotomy of response is incomprehensible.

When I made my final evacuation, I removed the brass headstone that marked the burial plot for my beloved buddy Leo, artist model.   I can anticipate many years with my new companion, Carmel, the comfort cat.

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