Some of you may not be aware that I spend one night a week volunteering for a cat rescue organization.
It all began about 6 years ago when circumstances out of my control forbade me from having a cat of my own. I happened to walk into the giant pet store where this organization is housed, and found myself surrounded by cages and cages of abandoned cats. The sight saddened me so much that I decided to begin volunteering right then and there, and I've been there ever since.
This atmosphere, as you can imagine, is rife with "crazy cat ladies". I'm sure many of you have experienced walking into this very store, innocently looking for the dog treat aisle, and were accosted by an old lady wearing cat ears, waving a donation jar in your face, chanting, "a little food for the kitties. pennies, nickels, dimes..."
They mean well, the crazy cat ladies.
The other night, I and two other volunteers were struggling to care for all of the cats and kittens that were in the store that night. We basically have to feed the cats, change their litter, and clean their cages, which could mean anything from a quick wipe down to scraping poo and vomit off of the walls and ceiling. While standing on a wobbly ladder. While people, mostly who are NOT interested in adopting a cat, are swarming around, sticking their hands in the cages while we clean, unknowingly spreading kitty germs from cage to cage, or sneaking peeks up my skirt if I've forgotten to change into jeans prior to my shift.
The crazy cat lady that night, with the ubiquitous cat ears, was insisting that every single person that walked by come in and browse. Everyone. Whether they wanted to or not. I kept shooting her dirty looks as it was getting crowded, and I was pretty sure that my cooch was going to end up all over the internets via spycam, as I was wearing a skirt that night, standing up on my ladder, and I just wanted to get the kitties taken care of and get the hell out of there.
A dude walked in while I was scooping food into a bowl, and from the minute I made eye contact with him I was sure we were all going to die.
He had a crazy look in his eye, looked disheveled, moved in a jerky, nervous manner, but the biggest tip off that he was a nutter was that he was topless. Well, topless save for a vest of some sort. I did not think this was just a fashion faux pas. I was sure he was a mad killer.
Crazy cat lady, true to form, invited him in. "Come on inside and look at the kitties," she said warmly.
I shot her a look that I was hoping said, "STOp FUCKING TALKING TO WHACKOS OR YOU"RE GOING TO GET US ALL KILLED."
Apparently my look was not working, because she kept talking to Topless Vest Man, as if he were the Queen of England.
He walked closer and nervously stuck his hand in his pocket, while his eyes darted around crazily. "Let me see if I have some change."
Holy Hell he was looking for a gun! I don't know what the hell he had against innocent cats? perhaps he was a disgruntled ex-volunteer? Or maybe we turned down his application for adoption?
Any which way, I was frozen. I didn't know what to do. I didn't want to yell, in case he decided to turn the gun on me...
He pulled his hand out of his pocket, threw a giant bag on the counter, and ran like a bat out of hell out of the store.
Ok. So he didn't have a gun. So maybe he left a bomb on the counter? What the hell? I closed my eyes shut tight and prayed.
The adoption rep ran over and looked at the abandoned bag. "What the hell is that?" he pointed. All of a sudden he tore out of the store after the crazed Topless Vest Killer. I was confused.
I opened my eyes and carefully walked over to the bag that carried the bomb. I looked inside.
Kittens. 5 teeniest of the tiniest of kittens. Abandoned. Left for us to care for.
This is a nightmare for any animal shelter who is full to capacity with abandoned little beasts, so although he did not try to kill me, he is still a bad, bad man. With very bad fashion sense.
And that is how I cheated death while doing good.