Tweet
**Warning for the squeamish: Mentions of sickly-cat residue follow.**
Mr Puck and I decided to adopt a puckish pooch, so last night we presented ourselves at the local Humane Society to look at the candidates. As we were waiting for our turn to meet the chosen hound, a woman came into the shelter with a cat in a carrier. She placed the carrier onto the high counter and launched into a tirade of SC proportions, which went along these lines:
She'd adopted the cat the day before, and it was perfectly healthy at that time. The next morning, however, the cat had become sick with diarrhea (or bloody diarrhea - she changed this detail around several times). What she was demanding was that the shelter take the sickly cat back and allow her to choose a new one, gratis. More than a few "WTF" glances passed between hubby and I, as it was clear that whatever had happened to the cat happened well out of the reaches of the Humane Society. Another tidbit that she threw in at least once was that the shelter had told her the cat was 5 years old, but she'd subsequently found out (in 24 hours, no less) that the cat was actually 12.
The very kindly volunteers explained to her, numerous times, that there was no "return policy" per se at the Humane Society, that animals adopted were adopted "as-is" - and this is written clearly into the contract that you sign and receive a copy of upon adopting any animal there. In true SC fashion, this would not appease her, nor did their repeated offers to refer her to their veterinary consultant for a better explanation. She continued to argue that somehow, a newly-adopted cat, with an unknown history, in a strange house for the first time, should not display any signs of anything that it didn't show at the shelter - and furthermore, that it was the shelter's fault, and they were responsible for replacing their defective product. And yes, she did use that exact analogy more than once...it was at this point that hubby and I decided to walk around the waiting room and read the "Found: Hamster" posters, since we both wanted to thrash her by then.
Unfortunately, I'm not sure what the outcome was (although I can guess), because she was still arguing at the desk when we went to meet our new little Pucklet.
Mr Puck and I decided to adopt a puckish pooch, so last night we presented ourselves at the local Humane Society to look at the candidates. As we were waiting for our turn to meet the chosen hound, a woman came into the shelter with a cat in a carrier. She placed the carrier onto the high counter and launched into a tirade of SC proportions, which went along these lines:
She'd adopted the cat the day before, and it was perfectly healthy at that time. The next morning, however, the cat had become sick with diarrhea (or bloody diarrhea - she changed this detail around several times). What she was demanding was that the shelter take the sickly cat back and allow her to choose a new one, gratis. More than a few "WTF" glances passed between hubby and I, as it was clear that whatever had happened to the cat happened well out of the reaches of the Humane Society. Another tidbit that she threw in at least once was that the shelter had told her the cat was 5 years old, but she'd subsequently found out (in 24 hours, no less) that the cat was actually 12.
The very kindly volunteers explained to her, numerous times, that there was no "return policy" per se at the Humane Society, that animals adopted were adopted "as-is" - and this is written clearly into the contract that you sign and receive a copy of upon adopting any animal there. In true SC fashion, this would not appease her, nor did their repeated offers to refer her to their veterinary consultant for a better explanation. She continued to argue that somehow, a newly-adopted cat, with an unknown history, in a strange house for the first time, should not display any signs of anything that it didn't show at the shelter - and furthermore, that it was the shelter's fault, and they were responsible for replacing their defective product. And yes, she did use that exact analogy more than once...it was at this point that hubby and I decided to walk around the waiting room and read the "Found: Hamster" posters, since we both wanted to thrash her by then.
Unfortunately, I'm not sure what the outcome was (although I can guess), because she was still arguing at the desk when we went to meet our new little Pucklet.
I know thats how I am lol)
That is a sign of something very wrong (not that I'm a cat expert, but it just seems to me that it's quite a serious problem). If that's the case, then I can't imagine anyone having a problem with you seeking out some sort of assistance, at the very least. Hopefully you did go back to wherever the cat came from and at least ask for information to help you care for it.
Comment