Starky the Dying Cat

I get a call from the Animal Control Officer. Turns out that the dying cat that had come in several days earlier DOES have an owner. And she does want him back. I talk to the owner for quite some time about his overall condition, the fact that he's not eating anything anymore, not pooping, and I keep pulling a large slimy blood clot out of his mouth. She knows, she's had him into the vet several times, she knows there's something wrong with his mouth because of the rotting smell, but the vet says he's fine. Had him in just a month ago as a matter of fact. Well, our vet was in yesterday and given everything, the dignified thing to do is to put him to sleep. I told her that I thought that the best thing to do is for her to take him home, give him a good, comfortable day or to at home with his family, and plan on putting him to sleep before the end of the week. She agreed. Little while later her husband came along to collect him, and I waived the boarding fees since I know how much it costs to euthanize an animal, and they are elderly. Told him he could donate some food or litter sometime to help us out. Told the ACO to call the convent where he was found and leave a message for the nun that found the cat and had come in daily to visit him that the cat got to go home after all, and die in comfort and dignity. Was feeling pretty damn good about the whole thing.

Couple hours later, a lady comes in kinda upset looking. "I found this cat crouched in the middle of the street, cars were driving around him, but he looks nearly dead. I think he's been hit!" She holds the carrier up to the window. "!!!!!" I say wordlessly. "Where exactly did you pick this cat up?" Yup, you guessed it. Just up the street from the convent.

So apparently "Take your cat home, give him good love and comfort for a day or two, then do the dignified thing" translates in old-person-speak as "take him back home, turn him loose in the yard, and let him wander off to die slowly on his own or get hit by a car."