On Stanley

Stanley is a cat that lived in our apartment complex. I say lived because, as of an hour ago, he no longer resides here. Stanley is a beautiful, long-haired, brown-and-gray cat with striking yellow eyes and a great personality. He often wanders around the apartment complex, even though we have a strict cats-inside-only complex. Because, people tear through the parking lot, there are coyotes around, and other mean critters (I saw a raccoon once the size of a golden retriever) - so it's not terribly safe for cats. And, Stanley used to come by and harass our cats - not that it really bothered us, unless he did it at night and ours went into a frenzy and woke us up.

We've kept an eye on Stanley periodically, because he seems very starved for attention. I almost met his owner once (which is how I know his name), but Liz exchanged words with her, and she seemed to care absolutely zero that her pet was outside, where it's dangerous, where he harassed other cats, and where he wasn't supposed to be by the lease agreement we all signed.

Today, while we were working outside, Stanley came by for a visit. His fur looked awful and matted, worse and usual, and he clearly had fleas. And, to make matters worse, I find out he is declawed and therefore shouldn't be wandering around outside at all. My thought process went something like this: I'd like to find Stanley a better home. It's not Stanley's fault that his owner is a fucking moron who doesn't give a shit about her pet. And, if she did give a shit, she wouldn't have blown Liz off and she wouldn't be letting a declawed cat outside, she would have gotten treatment for his fleas, and she would have taken the time to remove the dirt and filth from his coat. In fact, the above basically constitutes neglect. So, we convinced Stanley to go into one of our cat carriers, and we drove him down to the Humane Society. I felt bad about taking someone's pet in, but I thought I was really doing the right thing.

It turns out that the Humane Society doesn't take strays, only "surrendered" animals (where the owner says "I don't want to keep my cat any more.") So, Stanley is now going to be turned over to King County Animal Control. I like the sound of "animal control" a lot less than I like the sound of "humane society." And, Stanley will be evaluated to see if he's adoptable before they put him up for adoption. If he's not adoptable (I can't imagine that he isn't), he'll be put to sleep.

I think I made the wrong choice. I really want Stanley to have a better life, I really don't give a shit about the moron who supposedly cares for him, but even the risk of Stanley being put to sleep - I don't think it was worth it. The last thing I wanted was for Stanley to die, and now I discover that the Humane Society won't be the ones handling him - Animal Control will, and they do put cats to sleep. Yeah, I really think I fucked up. I'm going to call Animal Control on Monday and see what I can do. If for some reason they decide Stanley isn't adoptable, then he's coming home with us and we'll have three cats.