The joys and sorrows of being an animal activist, supporter and general compassionate Being, make for what in the "real" world could be construed as Mood Swings. The incredible emotional roller coaster of it all would leave us gasping for a free moment to breathe, but of course for rescuers, there is never that moment.
About 26 years ago, when I first returned to Hell's Kitchen, it was after a long absence. The neighborhood was rather run-down and, in its own way, quite likable. But one didn't walk around at night very casually, so when returning from Lincoln Center one dark, rainy night, I found myself suddenly thrust into the next chapter of my life.
In those days, you walked in a determined way, eyes straight ahead, no eye contact, the usual drill. And lo! a cat jumped right into my arms and said "Take me Home with You." I looked around, nobody there, so I continued walking, with her (I named her Polly) and at each corner, I'd say, "well, you can turn around and go home, just let me know." And Polly just stayed put.
Once home, I put her in a room separate from my guys (lovely mushes with us, vicious, vindictive and violent with strays) and we watched tv together, had our meals together and all was well. BUT, being the good citizen I am and the naive, totally ingenuous, debutante cat-rescuer I then was, I felt obliged to post up signs, tracing my steps from the night before.
Sure enough, I began getting calls, all pointing to a cat missing from a local shop run by a man we'll call Ari. Ari wanted his cat back, and although my heart told me that had he cared for Polly better, she wouldn't have escaped into my arms (and home), I let him come to see her and when she didn't mind going back to him, let him take her back. He didn't offer to reimburse me for anything I'd done for her, nor thank me for looking after her. He promised to have her spayed and not keep her locked in the dark back room where she'd been.
I foolishly gave her back to him and went in frequently to check on her. She was in the back room again, wasn't spayed, although I offered to pay for it and arrange for a nice vet to check her. After a few weeks of this futile effort, I went in one day only to be told that they'd given her to a fish & chips shop somewhere else because they were fed up with me pestering them.
Needless to say, I have felt guilty about this for these past 25 years and even named a future rescue cat: Polly, I have learned not to post up FOUND signs but to look for LOST CAT signs, to use the internet to help find owners, and not to return some animals to people who didn't look after them in the first place. I've learned a lot since that fateful experience, and I now rescue, place and agonize over scores of cats each year.
With the climate changes affecting "kitten and puppy season" and now, the economic reversals, leading to lost homes, jobs etc., the situation is obviously much much worse. So our job is increasingly difficult, which is why we have set up the non-profit rescue and information service,
All Sentient Beings, Inc. We hope to better inform the public on Pet Trusts, Healthful, Holistic Pet Care and more. As well as continuing our ongoing battle with the numbers of abandoned animals.
Where you can help, would be to send in your own stories on this blog, we're always interested in how you found (or lost) your animal, what you're doing about the many unwanted animals in your neck of the woods and how some of these innocent, sweet (sometimes) and helpless creatures have changed your life. Welcome to that Roller-Coaster of All Things Feline!
Post Script: the second Polly, who died in 2005, made it into the recently-published book, "The Ultimate Cat Lover," the Best experts' Advice for a Happy, Healthy Cat ...by Marty Becker and others. My story is "The Cat from Hell's Kitchen."