You know what I fucking hate?

I hate irresponsible pet owners.

I can’t stand irresponsible people.

And I hate people who don’t take care of their fucking pets!

UGH! ! ! ! ! Fuck! Oh my God!

This evening, someone in my building decided that being a responsible pet owner was no longer something s/he wanted to do. Suddenly, having a pet hamster was of no interest to this person. So what does s/he do to get rid of it? S/he fucking brings it downstairs to the basement and dumps the cage in the trash. WITH THE HAMSTER STILL INSIDE!

That’s right.

SOMEBODY DUMPED A HAMSTER ON TOP OF THE TRASH IN ITS CAGE AND LEFT IT THERE TO DIE. No food, no water, nothing. Just the hamster inside the cage, which wasn’t even placed flatly on top of the bags of trash, it was clearly just thrown on top as the cage was crookedly resting above the trash.

I couldn’t believe this shit was happening. I still can’t believe it now! The laundry room is also in the basement, and I had to wash a load of laundry tonight so I immediately noticed this thing after coming out the elevator in the basement. I flipped a fucking shit inside. I couldn’t believe my eyes. (At first, I was like “Is that. . .? Wait, I haven’t been high in months so I know I am not fucking hallucinating. . .”)

Here’s the thing about me and animals: I FUCKING LOVE THEM. I do. And I am really sensitive to their suffering. I’ve been like this since I was a child, I am an animal lover now, and I am always going to take on causes on behalf of their rights and protection as long as I live. It’s one of my life’s goals. I can go off on a rant about why that is, (and I just might do that in a future post), and tell you all about it. But I don’t wanna stray too far from this particular incident and miss sight of my anger. Right now I just wanna stay mad at the anonymous asshole who has abandoned his pet (I feel like leaving them this message here on their answering machine: ☞ http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JghkG4WydNk or something else for fuck’s sake!) instead of turning this into a generalized “Mad At The World” thing.

But I’m looking at the little hamster, this cute little thing, and as soon as I see the word TRASH written on its cage, that’s it. I’m done. I get a lump in my throat and I start to cry. I realized I was crying in public (and I’m not a big fan of that) so I sucked it up for the time being and started to look around for the super and the maintainance man. I set my laundry inside the machines, and went back upstairs while the clothes were washing. I’m very sad, but I can feel my bones are already tense and the blood in my veins getting thick and cold and I know I look pissed on the outside. I can feel the anger on my face. I wanna find somebody that can properly deal with this matter, preferably the motherfucker who did this, but I also don’t want to waste time looking for someone who I don’t even know and who is clearly and insensitive, immature moron. So I go back down there and think of a way to help the little guy. This is so cruel. The hamster’s water bottle was still attached to its cage, but it was empty, and it was trying to get comfortable inside, or breathe among all those bags of trash, and I am terribly upset. But I stay calm on the inside which I guess is the good thing about me. I don’t like drama, and I’m not looking to start some mess, but I am also not the type to stay quiet or just ignore something that is wrong and happening right in front of my face. I have to do something. At least try.

There’s no one around this evening, and now I remember that the best people that can help in this situation are on a 2 week vacation. And by vacation I mean the super and the maintainance man are in their apartments but they probably don’t wanna be bothered. I’m stuck. So, instead of waiting for someone to come around, I run across the street to the supermarket and buy a few things: cleaning gloves (you know those really thick yellow ones), a couple of mini bottles of water, and a copy of The New York Post. I go back downstairs to the basement, put on my gloves, take the cage out of the goddamn trash (this thing is cute and all, but shit, I’m no fool. It’s been in the trash for I don’t know how long so far, and before that, God knows where it’s been, so I’m not just gonna go anywhere near it with my bare hands) and set it on a few sheets of the NYP on the floor (that’s pretty much the only reason I can think of to buy a copy of that shitty newspaper), and then I fill it’s bottle up with the water I just bought. It seemed to calm down a little and it went straight to the water. At this point I’m totally heartbroken. Of course you must be thirsty, little hamster, I’d be thirsty too if I were thrown into a space stuffed tight full of garbage in a brutally warm basement. You deserve that Poland Spring agua. Enjoy.

It’s time to throw my clothes in the dryer and get inside the elevator. Ugh. What to do. What the fuck do I do. What. . .can I do. I don’t know.

I call my brother Tsuneo 恒雄 and bitch about it (I call him all the time, but especially when I’m sad about something. He’s a good listener, my brother). I eventually ask him what I should do.  “Well, there’s really not much you can do kiddo,” he tells me.

“I know. FUUCCCKKKK. I know. It just sucks. Can I take it to the vet or something, so they can put it to sleep? It looks pretty bad. And I’m not gonnna let it stay down here anymore. Not in the trash.”

I suddenly have an idea and decide on the best possible course of action. It’s much too late to do anything, really. I’m sure all the nearest vet clinics are closed or whatever, and honestly, I don’t have the means or the funds to deal with this matter the way I’d like. But I am satisfied with what I’ve come up with and I am ready to carry out my plan.

When I get back down to the basement, I can tell from far away that the clothes have finished drying and are ready to be folded.

But sadly, before my eyes, is a dead fucking pet hamster. It was gone. I could just tell; there was no point in trying to guess whether it had suddenly taken a nap or something. The little thing died.

I’m upset because that’s just not right. It’s. Not. Right. I’m not even gonna act like I like hamsters or ever had one, despite being the so-called pet lover that I am. I don’t think they’re terribly cute, and they do kinda scare me because they so closely resemble rats and I fucking hate rats. Total phobia. But, that’s not the point. I think it’s totally great that many people can keep these animals as pets and that many people do think they’re cute. Awesome. More power to you. Point is, it could’ve been any pet and I would be equally bothered. I wouldn’t keep lizards or birds or other animals as pets, but I expect that whoever does is gonna be responsible about it. Just the fact that someone decided to have this creature for a pet and then betrayed it by not having the heart–because this is an issue that touches on humanity–to properly relieve himself of his duties as a pet owner and find another home for this hamster is horrific. Why didn’t this person follow through? Why didn’t this person think enough of another living thing to responsibly address the situation? This hamster has a heart. It eats and breathes and is full of life. It has every right to be alive just as much as humans. You can’t just throw your pet out in the trash. You shouldn’t flush it down the toilet, or kill it, or just dump it in the streets and let it become stray when you’re tired or bored or just wanna get rid of it. I can’t believe people lack the empathy to build or acknowledge their connection to other living things on the Earth and deny them the dignity they deserve.

I just can’t believe it.

Advertisements

One thought on “People Suck: Here’s the Latest Proof

  1. That’s such a fucked up situation and I’m so sorry you had to deal with it alone. I am equally repulsed by this poor little hamster’s owner. It sickens me that people can be so fucking thoughtless and uncaring.

    I think that pet stores should give psychological exams or at least ask prospective pet owners a few reasonable questions who want to adopt/ “purchase” (I hate the word purchase in terms of getting a pet, it’s so demeaning) a pet. For example: If you are no longer able to care for your pet, what would you do with it? “Hot basement” would be an automatic bar from ever getting a damn pet!

    As someone who constantly worries about my two cats, if the fan is on high enough, if I left enough water, if they’re happy living with me, I wish I could haul the asshole who left this hamster to jail… at least until they’d been abused a little bit.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s