Okay, so we take a trip out of town to say hi to the family, and just got word that their cat had kittens the day before.
We meet that cat and kits and find 4 of them mewing away with their eyes still closed. Two black, one grey, one white.
They already have two black ones (one is the mom), a small dog, a coop full of chickens. In short, a small menagerie, if not food chain.
We find out that they intend on keeping only the white one and, unfortunately, kill the rest. The news is unfortunate, but understandable. There are plenty of homeless animals in the streets out there anyway (and that’s just in the city), and they live in a small house that’s pretty much filled with animals as is.
So I take into consideration all the pros and cons of cat ownership on the way back into town. I look at my live in who looks at me and I say “Let’s take one”.
“You sure?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay.”
They immediately call the family (it couln’t be more than an hour after we left them) and talk to two family members: Grandma and Uncle, about our intentions of taking one off their hands when it gets old enough to be on its own. (Upon further study, we find that that’s 8 weeks.) A black male preferably, but then state that it really doesn’t matter: Either of the blacks will do, even if they are female. We also figure that if we can at least save ONE, that’s cool, right?
We study up on kitten/cat behaviour, needs, wants, safety, health… everything. We look on various websites and become cat experts in a short period of time.
We’re ready. We’re also feeling really good about ourselves and happy knowing that we’re going to hear the pitpat of tiny feet in the house, and the knowledge that we just saved this little bugger’s life. We’ve also thought out contingency plans with friends for when we have to go out of town for a day/weekend/whatever.
We had the whole thing set.
So last weekend, we had planned on seeing the family again so I can try Grandma’s wonderful pancakes. MM mm!
We ask about the kittens, and figure we should see how “ours” is doing. (The little critter’d only be about a week old, but, you know.
We can’t find them. Apparently, they’ve been moved. We’ll check on them in a bit.
We head of to a local outdoor museum and come back a little while later. I’m outside playing with the puppy. DAD is collecting apples. I walk back into the house and wonder where my livein went.
In the back room.
Not doing well. With tears in eyes, they tell me what happened. The kittens were killed. Uncle did the deed. Like the original plan, they kept the white one only.
We find out through conversations that it was Uncle’s livein that made this decision.
The pancakes, although good, had just lost their flavour. Needless to say, we were both pretty pissed. My livein was sad, I was just plain angry.
I’m angry at Uncle, who my livein spoke to directly originally, for not standing up against his GF who for whatever reason decided that our decisions and desires are worth nothing.
I’m angry at this GF; I have NO idea what her story or problem is, but needless to say, we won’t be speaking to HER with any respect for some time.
I’m also a little pissed at the grandparents, who didn’t chime in to state that “Hey! It’s already been arranged. One of those black kittens is going to live because our grandchild wants one.”
But mainly I’m pissed at Uncle.
What’s the point of talking to someone when you now know that you’re not going to be taken seriously, especially over a matter of a life never mind a person’s word!
This fucking asshole just bends at this wierd chick’s demands (apparently there was arguing, all for what I have NO idea) who he isn’t even married to.
I’m thouroughly convinced that some guys just can’t see beyond the range of their dick! Just to get this chick to shut up, he decides it’s okay to kill off a few “inconvenient” kittens, despite whatever’s been arranged within the family.
The grandparents, I must confess, did a pisspoor job of trying to console their grandchild over this. No “I’m sorry”, nobody even called DAD to tell him to pass on the news, nobody certainly told US about the decision.
Grandpa: “Oh, there’ll be more kittens… you’ll be able to save another one.”
WHAT THE FUCK!?!?!??
Oh, thanks, “pops”, real nice!
Yeah, nice to know that the next time there’re kittens that we have intentions of saving the lives of, that THAT decision will be taken seriously.
I mean what’s the fucking point? Just for us to TELL YOU “We’ll take one”, only for your son to decide that it’s inconvenient again and kill them off anyway?
Nice to know life is cheap out in the farm, fucker.
Grr.
Then we spend the rest of the day in a funk without the real desire to do much of anything. Nice cap to the day.
Needless to say, we had our share of pancakes in silence and just left promptly afterwards. We weren’t in the mood to even be there.
…At least they’re taking pretty good care of the puppy.
…Fuckers.
God, that’s therapeutic!