Poor GFC had a sad story. The shelter had one particular volunteer who was a little, shall we say, overzealous when it came to trapping the feral cats in her neighborhood. One day she captured GFC in one of her traps.
Unfortunately, GFC did not appear to be feral. She appeared to be someone's pet. She was friendly, and cuddly, and spayed, and had a beautiful coat that had obviously been groomed on a regular basis.
Then, just to compound the fuck-up, the rogue volunteer took GFC to a friend's house for a few days before taking her to the shelter. A friend who had leukemia-positive cats.
So poor GFC, evidently someone's pet and now exposed to feline leukemia, landed at the shelter. The shelter immediately started putting ads in the paper, messages on line, etc., trying to find GFC's owner. They tested her for leukemia and she tested negative, but because she had been exposed to leukemia-positive cats, she had to be quarantined for ninety days and then re-tested, just to make sure.
And somewhere out there, a little old lady is wondering where her cat went.
Not all volunteers are good volunteers.
2 comments:
Oh, poor GFC! I would be hysterical if one of my cats went missing. (Around here we would assume the coyotes got it.)
Oh, I know! I used to worry whenever Rocky would stay out later than usual. I think he did it just to torture me, because he's stroll in a few hours later, all nonchalant, like, "what!? what are you all worried about!?"
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