![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
A Heaping Handful of Righteous Ire
Mar. 27th, 2004 11:35 amSomeday, when the last pet store in the world has been burned to the ground, I will gather together every child who has ever suffered and lost a pet from their callous and mercenary attitude, and we will dance the hokey-pokey on the store's ashes as we sow the earth with salt.
I have had it up to my eyebrows with pet store puppies dripping with mange and kennel cough and worms. I am fed up with half-starved lizards and rats with pneumonia. And yesterday, euthanizing a bird that had only been out of the store for five days because it was too sick to move, too weak to perch, and so emaciated that I could use it's keel as a cheese knife - the third bird in this situation within the past three months - it took all of my willpower and then some to avoid marching down to the pet store myself and unleashing my wrath on the manager there.
I am a nonviolent person. I have no intentions of beating him black and blue, though that does hold a certain appeal right now. All I want to do is grab him by the ear, march him back to the clinic, and sit him down in front of the four-year-old boy who was sobbing his heart out and asking me if his bird was dying because he was bad. And Mister Marvelous Pet Store Manager can explain to this child that no, he was a good boy, and the bird was just dying because the store didn't care, and knew they could turn a profit anyway. I'm sure that'll make the kid feel much better.
The store's involvement ends when the animal leaves the door. They don't have to deal with the frustration and the heartbreak and the pain that comes when people get attatched to an animal that winds up in ICU less than a week later. They graciously offer to take the animal back and give them a new one - they don't understand, I guess, the difference between a living creature and a slipcover. And this is why slipcovers should be sold in chain stores, and living creatures shouldn't.
Meanwhile, I mop up their messes, and I call their managers, and I tell them about the problems. And they recite the carefully-worded statements they're given from on-high, pointing out that since I didn't see the animal when it was sold, I can't prove that it was sold in that condition, and no formal action can be taken. And I sit, and I seethe, and then I move on to my next appointment and hope that maybe at least now there's one more family that will never buy from a pet store again.
Damnit.
I have had it up to my eyebrows with pet store puppies dripping with mange and kennel cough and worms. I am fed up with half-starved lizards and rats with pneumonia. And yesterday, euthanizing a bird that had only been out of the store for five days because it was too sick to move, too weak to perch, and so emaciated that I could use it's keel as a cheese knife - the third bird in this situation within the past three months - it took all of my willpower and then some to avoid marching down to the pet store myself and unleashing my wrath on the manager there.
I am a nonviolent person. I have no intentions of beating him black and blue, though that does hold a certain appeal right now. All I want to do is grab him by the ear, march him back to the clinic, and sit him down in front of the four-year-old boy who was sobbing his heart out and asking me if his bird was dying because he was bad. And Mister Marvelous Pet Store Manager can explain to this child that no, he was a good boy, and the bird was just dying because the store didn't care, and knew they could turn a profit anyway. I'm sure that'll make the kid feel much better.
The store's involvement ends when the animal leaves the door. They don't have to deal with the frustration and the heartbreak and the pain that comes when people get attatched to an animal that winds up in ICU less than a week later. They graciously offer to take the animal back and give them a new one - they don't understand, I guess, the difference between a living creature and a slipcover. And this is why slipcovers should be sold in chain stores, and living creatures shouldn't.
Meanwhile, I mop up their messes, and I call their managers, and I tell them about the problems. And they recite the carefully-worded statements they're given from on-high, pointing out that since I didn't see the animal when it was sold, I can't prove that it was sold in that condition, and no formal action can be taken. And I sit, and I seethe, and then I move on to my next appointment and hope that maybe at least now there's one more family that will never buy from a pet store again.
Damnit.
