Well, I promised myself years ago (OK decades ago) that I would volunteer at an animal shelter. Last week I signed up, and this week I actually did it. On my way home following my "Exit Interview" from my 11 1/2 year career I was admittedly in a strange mind. (More on that later.) I don't know why I took that particular route home other than to stop at the Animal Control building.
I signed up for Monday mornings, so I have something to look forward to and mark my week with.
My first day came. Little did I realize that it was a holiday that would close the shelter. They let me in anyway since the animals still needed some basic care. The girl there to show me the ropes was really adamant about leaving as early as possible since it was supposed to be a day off. Noon was her cutoff. No problemo. I had hoped to be there far less than that. Check.
I worked with 4 adoptable dogs. The time started with cleaning out the caged area. After about 20 minutes of dry-heaving I was finished. I clean poo of various species every darn day. Why was this so off-putting? You'd think I would have learned some poo-proofing techniques over the years. After I got my breakfast back in check I hosed everything down and changed bedding. There was still time to actually walk dogs - the REAL reason I was there after all...
I chose the loud little beagle mix first. "Lily" kept baying at me while running around like a little fool. She makes my jack russell look like a quiet dog. After a few minutes she actually made eye contact with me and allowed me to issue some basic commands amid avid bird watching. Cute dog!
Next was the italian greyhound, "Gordita". The first 10 feet outside froze her SOLID. Poor thing. The only thing I could think of was to run her as fast as she would go to get the blood moving. That's not all that moved... More poo. Gack! This thing was like 5 pounds. How could THAT much come out of her?
Then came the golden retriever. No name on the cage, but this one was a golden oldie. White face. Rough coat. Winning smile. He was really good on leash - and house broken. I thought the pee would never stop once he got outside. And more of you guessed it... Swallow hard. Breathe... He had a good roll in the snow and pranced around as proudly as his old bones would take him It saddens me that an old guy like that found his way into the pound. He deserves a wonderful life in his golden years.
Finally came "Brownie" the Pit/Bulldog mix. I saved her for last thinking she'd be the strongest puller. She was noisy and rambunctionus in the kennel area - barking, whining, screeching... Secretly I hoped I would run out of time before her turn. No luck for me, but SCORE for her. It turned out pretty well. She fetches really well, and then shakes the crap out of what she brings back. She knows some basic commands like sit, drop it, leave it. Surprisingly she was good on leash. What a looker too! If I had the need for another dog she'd be it! Though I have to wonder about the safety of my cats... Maybe not the best idea. Fortunately I have plenty of dogs already and don't need to change anything up.
Two hours on the dot later I am home. The stink of kennels clings like a cheap cologne. I wonder how long it will take to rid this sensation that I need to dive into a tub of Lysol? My dogs sniffed curiously for a minute then resumed their posts as guardians of the couches.
Later peeps.
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