December 28, 2002 :: 7:45 p.m.
entry #737, in which I suck beyond the telling of it
Oh dear. Today has, overall, been pretty good, but there's a horrible sadness lacing it all. The little kitten went to the Humane Society this morning. I felt so bad... I still do. I broke into tears at regular intervals until just about an hour ago. I tried to find her a home. No one I called wanted to take her in, though how anyone could resist her is beyond me. Not that they got to see her, but damn, no one even wanted to. So I got up at 8:30 this morning, gave her some breakfast, and tried to resist going to back to sleep until Adam called. I only got four hours of sleep, you see, and so I was feeling something like shit run over by an 18-wheeler and left to rot in the sun for a week. But I resisted. I played with the kitty and called everyone that I know who would possibly want a kitten - no one came through, the bastards.
I called the Helen Krause Foundation, but they aren't taking in anymore cats right now. So I called PAWS, only to be told the exact same thing. There are no other no-kill shelters in the area that I know of, and she couldn't stay here any longer. Rufus almost ate her this morning; it was terrible. I talked to Adam, and he agreed to come with me. We loaded the kitty into the cat carrier, went to the grocery store to buy kitten chow, some wet food, and two types of toys (catnip mice and shiny pom-pom balls), and then headed for the shelter. We chose to be "guardian angels" and contribute $25 toward her adoption fee and such, so that she'll cost less than the other kitties and thus get a new home faster. I got a little silver and gold angel cat pin for doing it, which is very cute but just makes me so sad. I bawled in the parking lot after it was all said and done, because I just feel like this horrible monster for taking a helpless little kitten to the Humane Society, where, if she isn't adopted within a few weeks, she will be euthanized before she even reaches adulthood. Mer... I hate myself. I am, indirectly, a potential cat-killer. I hope someone shoots me in my sleep.
I got art supplies. That's about the only happy I have to spread around right now. I thought I was going to get to sleep over at Adam's tonight, but it's looking a whole lot like I was very wrong. So there went my sparkle of happiness after a day of feeling like a cruel and soulless waste of breath. I think god hates me. Probably because I don't capitalize his name or go to church or own a copy of the bible or, you know, believe in him. Stuff like that. But really, did he have to take away my sleepover? I would kill people to sleep with Adam, especially now. Don't make me do it, buddy. Hell hath no fury like an animal-loving, people-hating, arguably psychotic teenage girl who just had to take a stray kitten to the Humane Society.
I'm going to go play with my india ink and bamboo brushes now. Pray/chant/petition your god(s) of choice for a speedy and trauma-free kitten adoption, please.
back & forth
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