What the Fuck.

Well, third time to call dispatch on those emaciated horses, and this time they wouldn't even send out a deputy.  It's getting cold here, and they've only had hay once since May.

SINCE MAY.

Tonight, one of them was tied to god knows fucking what, ONE of the fucking trees on the side of the road, barely able to move from how short the rope was (maybe two body lengths, tops), sporting new injuries of course, and eating so fast you couldn't have stopped him if you'd accidentally hit him.  Dispatch:  "He's just lawnmowing.  We can't send someone out for that.  He's fine."  Um...after dark?  For hours?  Unsupervised?  On the side of the road.  Tripping over the rope tied to his rope halter each time he tries to turn around and find more grass and weeds.

Fuck you.

I'm just...you know what...I can't write anymore about this tonight.  I'm sorry so glum lately, but I've had my hands so full with wedding shit, working seven nights a week, and volunteer firefighting that I have barely been able to help with animal shit at all.  I feel like I'm letting them down.  You don't take a "break" from animal rescue.  When you live around the shit I live around, it's a part of you, and a part of your life.  You HAVE to care, you HAVE to help.  It pulls you apart.

Here, in case you wanted to be just a little more  pissed off at people tonight, have an actual conversation at a rescue event recently:

"how much is it to buy a dog?"
"to adopt, you mean?  $150"
"shiiiit.  i wouldn't spend no $150 on a dog.  I've never spent $150 on a DOG."
"they come with everything done - fixed, shots, microchipping, everything."
"FIXED, why would you want to buy a dog who was already fixed?"

Ayup.  That happened.
-Mouse