It makes me really angry when young people who are incapable of taking care of animals, go out and get one, or two, or three anyway. It also really bothers me when people don’t adopt, but instead get pets from stores or breeders.
I’ve turned into an animal welfare cunt and I’m not even mad about it. I will tell you how declawing your cat is cruel and can cause behavioral issues, I will tell you that not spaying or neutering your animals increases their chances of cancer later in life, and I will tell you that if you feed your pets something shitty like meow mix or the equal for dogs, that you are an idiot.
So if you font want to hear it, you probably shouldn’t talk to me about your pets.
You look like Bradley Cooper. I now cannot watch anything he is in.
Keep them coming.
“…Someone says to you, ‘Let’s have lunch.’ You clench. Your sinews leap within you, angling for escape. What others thrive on, what they take for granted, the contact and confraternity and sharing that gives them strength leaves us empty. After what others would call a fun day out together, we feel as if we have been at the Red Cross, donating blood.
This is not about hate. I did not hate the individuals in the crowd at the air show. Not the man leaning over the rail, a tattoo on his back of a baby-faced devil above words Born Horny. I don’t hate my relatives or those whose names fill my address book. But I do not want to have lunch with any of them. It is not personal. I am not angry. Nor is this about being afraid. I am not shy. I do not have terrible manners.
Do birds hate lips? Do Fijians detest snowplows? Being a loner is not about hate, but need: We need what others dread. We dread what others need.”
—An excerpt from “Party of One The Loners’ Manifesto” by Anneli Rufus
no one ever congratulates you
for doing the really difficult things
like driving on the freeway or getting out of bed or
every friendship you make is a countdown
to the moment
when they finally can’t deal
with the missed calls and canceled hangouts
every friendship is on a…
Toed had a seizure today. :[
I have been unhappy in my job for the past year. But every time I think of leaving, I get sad. Maybe this shelter isn’t the best match, but there are hundreds, thousands of other shelters for me to work at.
Every time I applied and interviewed for a job, every time I looked at an ad placed for an opening somewhere that didn’t have animals, I made up a reason not to take the job, apply for it. I realized tonight, about ten minutes ago, that it’s because I don’t want to not work with animals. I like helping the people with animal issues, I love making the beds for animals to sleep in at night.
Could this really be my calling? I’m good at what I do. I diffuse difficult situations with ease. I can read animals better than anyone I know.
This field is a dead end. There’s no money to be made and I know the difference I will make is so slim that few will notice. But at least I will make a difference to those few. And I can’t see myself in a job where I’m not helping lives.
I have had this entire week off. I go back to work on Sunday. Nothing has been accomplished. I’ve spent every single day being incredibly anxious and struggling to get out of bed. I can’t put anything I’m feeling into words. All I can say is that I am tired, and I don’t think that’s an accurate depiction. Oh well.