----“All right, we have two litters right now. None of which are ready
to leave their mother. If you want, you can lay claim to one and take
it home in a few weeks,” the receptionist says, effectively pulling
me out of my thoughts as she comes around to my side of the
counter to lead me to the room they keep the cats.
“I was really hoping to go home with something today,” I tell her
with a hint of disappointment in my voice. I hadn’t meant to sound
so disappointed. I could come back another day, no problem, but for
some reason, I really want a new cat today.
“The only other one we have is a foundling that showed up on our
doorstep this morning. He isn’t a baby, but he looks to only be about
three or four months old.”
“Can I see him?” My God, the desperation in my voice is annoying
even to me. The receptionist gives me a ‘psycho much’ look. In
return, I try to give her a sheepish ‘I’m sorry for being weird’ smile.
“Yeah,” she says, a little unsure if she really should allow me
around the animals. “They just placed him in a cage. He didn’t have
any fleas or any other physical or medical problems when we
brought him in, but we always do a once over and give them a bath
before putting them in with the other animals.”
I followed the woman through a set of double doors to the right
of the information counter. The other set of double doors on the left
led to the hospital part of the building. Smith County is where I
purchased Sebastian. I prefer adopting from the shelter because I
like knowing that I’m adopting an animal that the doctors have
examined. I’m not opposed to strays. I just prefer adopting my
animals. I like feeling as if I’m saving one from death when I adopt.
Dr. Smith, Sebastian’s doctor and one of the head doctors here at
the shelter, promised me when I asked one time that they never put
their animals to sleep unless they medically have to do so. I’m not
sure I really believe her.
The other reason I like adopting from this particular shelter is the
discounts on vaccines and procedures you get if you adopt from
them. I’m not a Scrooge, but I’m not made of money either. Half