While I was staggering home from a bar in 1986, I suddenly heard the distinct sound of a cat meowing in distress. I stopped in my tracks, and discovered a cat in a posh carrier dropped off outside an animal shelter at 2 A.M.
I opened the carrier (this was during one of the coldest winters in Chicago), and did my best to comfort the cat as best I could. I reasoned she would freeze to death before the shelter opened in the morning, so I put the shivering cat back in the carrier, and hopped on a warm bus to my apartment.
Long story short: I named her Venus, and she became my constant companion for many wonderful months. Sadly, my lover and I finally got our subsidized apartment, and no pets were allowed. I was forced to find a good home for Venus.
A "friend" offered to give her a good home, so I trusted him. He buttered me up by telling me I would still be able to visit Venus, and he would give her the good care she deserved.
Here's the dark part. A mere week after I trusted him with Venus, he claimed that he'd given her to a lonely old lady as a companion. Whenever I asked if I might be able to see Venus for a visit, he always had some lame excuse.
I finally confronted him about the matter, and he fessed up that he'd tossed Venus out of the house because he was afraid he might hurt her. He threw her in the alley (and she was declawed) during a severe snow storm. I still have nightmares about this. And I learned that most "friends" are frauds at best.
This nutcase now calls himself a vegan. I hope that karma will teach him a lesson or two. Big Time.
