Fuck You Jean

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When Cocoa was dropped off at the pound, she was left with a note. Her owner claimed to be abandoning her companion of 12 years simply because they were moving to a pet-free environment.

It turns out, the owner was abandoning their family member… because she was sick.

Hello. You don’t know me, and for your sake, you’d best hope and pray that you never have the misfortune to meet me.

How do I know your name? Because the people at animal control gave me Cocoa’s intake sheet. You know, the one you filled out. The one that said Cocoa was 12 years old and you’d had her all those years. The one that said you were moving to a pet-free apartment and couldn’t take your faithful companion of 12 years. You know, the one that you said was a “sweet old girl- a wonderful companion.” The one that said you had limited funds.

Here’s the thing, Jean. Oh, I didn’t ask if I could call you Jean but I’m going to. Or I could call you a number of other names, none of which you’d like very much. When I saw Cocoa’s picture on the animal control website, when I saw that grey muzzle and read the description stating that her people of 12 years, her family, had surrendered her to the pound, it broke my heart.

Jean, I once had a dog that was so ornery she got in trouble for biting a kid on the butt because he’d been tugging her ears. When the city quarantined my dog for 48 hours, I was fully prepared to leave my home, leave school, leave everything in the dead of night, everything except my dog. I was going to Thelma and Louise our asses right out of town. I wasn’t playing. Because that’s how I roll. No dog left behind, Jean.

So when I saw that picture of Cocoa, I just couldn’t understand why someone would dump a family member. And my empathy for that dog consumed me, until I made yet another rash decision and I rushed to the pound to adopt her.

Act in haste, repent in leisure. That’s my motto, Jean.

When I got Cocoa I had pink eye and a sinus infection. I was so sick but I went and got her anyway, because I was worried that dog was terrified and was going to be euthanized, alone and scared, looking everywhere for her people. I couldn’t stand the thought of it, and she wasn’t even my dog.

It took me two days of antibiotics before I finally realized why she might have been dumped at the pound. Something tells me Cocoa didn’t become highly incontinent over the course of the week between you dumping her at the pound and me bringing her home.

It took us a few weeks, Jean, but we finally got the right dosage of meds to keep the incontinence mostly in check. I was happy, Cocoa was happy, and the house was clean again.

But that didn’t last long, Jean. Just a few weeks after I got her, she came down with acute pancreatitis. That meant she needed antibiotics and special food, food that cost me $2.25 per can, and she could easily eat two cans in a day. But that wasn’t even the worst part of that office visit, Jean. You probably know what I’m going to say next, right? About the tumors?

They couldn’t be sure whether the tumors were causing the pancreatitis, so we decided the “wait and see” plan was the best course of action.

And I became more and more convinced that you had abandoned your family member because you knew she was sick. You knew she had cancer, and you couldn’t afford to treat her or to help her. What upset me so much, Jean, is that you couldn’t be bothered to drive the extra 20 minutes to take her to the Humane Society, a no-kill shelter. Or to even take her to your own vet and have her humanely euthanized with you there to comfort her.

So every few weeks I had to go buy expensive food for Cocoa, the family member you dumped at the pound. The dog that you abandoned. And every few weeks I would buy her “old lady pee pills.” I found that XL toddler pull-ups worked the best, once I cut a hole in the back for her tail.
And we waited.

In the meantime, Cocoa went to the mountains. She fell over the side of a small mountain, she saw deer. She had so much fun. She would get frisky and try to play with my other dogs right after they ate. It happened every night. She was so cute. My boys loved her and accepted her, like they accept every sad story that comes home with me. They would even let her have the hammock bed every night if she wanted it.
On Sunday mornings I would sometimes let all the dogs come climb into bed with me for a while. Cocoa really liked those mornings, Jean. She liked to be included. Sometimes I’d have all three dogs and two cats up there. She loved it.

But all the while, those tumors were still there. And surgery wasn’t an option.

This week Cocoa’s belly started swelling. I kept waiting for it to subside but it didn’t, Jean.

Yesterday we went in for x-rays and found that the masses were too big, her belly too full of fluid to even see her organs. We could try diuretics to remove the fluid, but that was just a Bandaid. This wasn’t going away. And I didn’t want Cocoa’s last days to be filled with consternation over having accidents in the house again. You see, that’s the difference between us, Jean. I worried about how Cocoa felt. I could look in her eyes and see the stress when she had accidents.

So we didn’t do the meds. I brought her home and figured I’d give her a few last good weeks. I would spoil her and make her feel like the Grand Dame she was.

But it didn’t turn out that way, Jean. Turns out today was Cocoa’s last day.

Here’s the thing, though. Instead of dying on a cold floor in a cold building with people who may or may not give a damn how her end happened, she died in my arms. I held your dog’s head in my arms and I whispered in her ear while she slipped away. I told her what a pretty girl she was. I told her how much I loved her as I stroked that spot just above her eye.

I made sure she knew she was loved. I made sure that my face was the last face she saw, that my voice was the last voice she heard.

You might wonder why I’m telling you all this, Jean. You might wonder if I just wanted you to know that Cocoa was ok.

I’d like to disabuse you of that notion. I’m writing this letter to let you know just what a piece of s*** I think you are. If you ever do read this letter, know that I, along with my many animal-loving friends all over this world, think you are the lowest of the low. You don’t take a 12-year-old dog, a “sweet old girl- a wonderful companion”, and dump her at a high-kill shelter. You didn’t even give her a good chance.

She got lucky the day that I saw her picture because let me tell you, Jean, my animals want for nothing.
And to all the people reading this who “knew” Cocoa Loco, all of her friends around the world, here’s where the story ends.

This cruelty towards a companion of 12 years, a dear friend and family member, sickens us.

Ah but what if Jean... had partial dementia and was actually moving into a nursing home?


surprise ending by m. night shamalamadingdong

But, she didn't.

Just so I'm sure I understand:

Paying to euthanize the dog immediately = OK

Sending the dog to be euthanized for free = Not OK... because the dog will feel sad?

Potential sins of the original owner aside, the author's moral superiority is tarnished by her bitter complaints about all the expensive food she "had" to buy.

Pets are not disposable. It's sick thinking to think they are. You adopted the animal, you help it through to the end.Otherwise, yes, you're cold-hearted and you suck. It became inconvenient...just drop it off at the pound. Fuck that, and fuck Jean. I imagine Jean, perfectly coifed and put out by her loyal companion. If she felt she should be put down, then she grows a pair and has it done and is there until the end.

I think about having Gaines put down and it hurt like the living fuck but it was the RIGHT ting to do, just as being there with him was the Right fucking thing to do.

Jean's a pussy. Hope her family doesn't toss her in a home and let her die alone.

This is why i often prefer animals to humans. Humans can be sick-hearted cold motherfuckers. Here's a plan for them: don't get a fucking pet, fucking asshole.

I didn't detect 'moral superiority' i detected 'you, jean, are a sucky cunt.'

I see a lot of 'moral superiority' but this ain't that.
good god please don't even get a hamster.

Gravdigr;876385 wrote:

But, she didn't.

It's certainly possible, perhaps likely, that Jean dropped off the dog due to illness rather than living arrangements. But did I miss the part where that was actually confirmed? Was Jean found to still be living in a dogs-allowed location?

Clodfobble;876387 wrote:

...the author's moral superiority is tarnished by her bitter complaints about all the expensive food she "had" to buy.

I took that part as sarcasm. Hell, I lose five dollars a day.

Just bought Slick his kitteh fud, btw: ~$20 for a four pound bag.

He's worth every cent. <---Sarcasm. He's worthless.

Also: How long should I cook a sixteen pound cat?

Happy Monkey;876397 wrote:

Was Jean found to still be living in a dogs-allowed location?

Unknown.

And irrelevent. If the dog was sick you deal with it. If you 'have to move to a no pet facility' you deal with it. You don't just drop it off and walk away. Jean is a bitch.

If Jean was running for president, I don't think she could count on Infi's vote.

Yeah, sorry again. Harsh and reactive again. I'm a mess. I should probably take a break.

Its hard to really know just by one persons perspective. I once had to find a new home for a 10 yr old dog (monty) because my Mum was dying and the dog was a yapper, and in the end it was just too much. There were other issues, but that was the main one.

Some people would judge me harshly for that, but i had to put my Mum first. Judgement or not. I often wonder if i chose the right family for Monty, but at the time i know i probably didnt think about it as much as i should have.

Who knows what can lead a person to give up their family pet. I would think that it wasnt as easy as you might try to believe.

The letter, itself, seems to me to be a bit contrived... designed to trigger an emotional response.

But assuming it could be factual, the ethical culprit here is more likely the pound.

If an ethical rescue organization came upon an old 12 yr (grey mussle) dog
that was already incontinent, and probably had digitally detectable tumors,
experience would have dictated that the animal be put down,
or at least not put up for adoption without disclosure to the adopting family.

Maybe, maybe, maybe... the original owner did not want
to put the dog down, themselves or could not afford it.
Putting the expense on to the rescue organization (pound) would be a bit unethical,
but vets are now charging a great deal of $ to euthanize a dog,
and usually an additional $ to deal with disposal.

All in all, my emotions are not with the author of the letter.

Yes, it cost us about $650 to have our Sheba put to sleep a couple of years ago. That is a lot of money,,and the issue with pets is they arent covered by medicare (public health), so i think a lot of people have a lot of trouble when their pet passes or is too old and infirm to get any benefit from further treatment (which was the case with Sheba).

Years ago, we made an appointment for the following day to put down our cat when she was getting really old and it was obvious it was the end. She was in pain, and the right thing was to put her out of her misery. And that night she just died on her own in front of me while my wife was at some meeting or something.

It was kind of freaky watching that cat die of old age. Breathing all funny, eyes a little dried out because she had stopped blinking, and then not breathing any more.

I didn't realize she had saved us $650 by doing that. Nice parting gift.

I agree with everything you said IM Fuck Jean she is a cunt.

What asshole vet charges $650 to euthanize an animal? :eyebrow: Mine charges less than $50 Are you talking about cremation too?

My partner and I have owned 5 cats/2 dogs in 31 years and they have all felt the loving hand of their owners/heard the 'good boy/girl' at the end of their lives. No kids for us, but when it's our time to go, I think they'll all be waiting to welcome us back home. Beautiful sentiments Grav.

Hm. This article/blog is not about Jean. Or Cocoa. imho

Nirvana;876414 wrote:

I agree with everything you said IM Fuck Jean she is a cunt.

What asshole vet charges $650 to euthanize an animal? :eyebrow: Mine charges less than $50 Are you talking about cremation too?

Apparently an Aussie vet charging in US dollars?

Cost me almost 400 for Gaines, but I had come home from having dinner with the parents (me and dad's b-day) and he was bad off. So at 11 on a Saturday night I drove an hour to an all-hours vet clinic south of here. They gave him something like valium to calm him down. As I comforted him he thumped his tail...that ornery devil knew I was with him. He was going on 16 years old.

My ex buried him with my other kitties..

My long time vet was semi-retired, but i probably could have called him. He's such a good man, an old-fashioned country vet, if you will. But i was upset and not thinking and being 'too scared to be obtrusive.'

He was the last of my 4 cats and i haven't gotten one since. But I'm not one to jump in and out of relationships like it's a fucking jumprope game. Oh, and I'm not a selfish asshole.

It was a sunday night. She had a twisted stomach. She had a dicky heart all her life and the vet didnt think she would survive an op so recommended putting her to sleep there and then. So the kids came up faep and said their goodbyes and then i stayed with her till the end. Yes we had her cremated. Hr ashes re still here in fact long side my mum and brothers ashes. She was originally my mums dog but became ours after mum died. We still have mums cat, but i think she wont have too many more seasons now.

When I buried our cat in the soft soil near our house, I found some nice large rocks to use to top off the grave, as a sort of marker and to keep any scavengers from digging her up.

My son, who must have been around 4 years old at the time, remarked that the rocks were to "keep her from getting out." Looking back, I wonder if that's where his fascination with zombies started. He's a big zombie apocalypse prepper. When shit gets real, and the zombies come, we'll be in really good shape. He even has a fortress scoped out.

$650, $400?!?! What the fuck, man? JFC!

Best friend's best friend was sent to his eternal reward for $80.

On a Sunday.

There had to be other services rendered for $400, or $650.

God damn.



ETA: Ah, just saw Ali's last post.

When we put Kung Pao Kitty to sleep, it only cost $170.00 for everything.

Gravdigr;876481 wrote:

$650, $400?!?! What the fuck, man? JFC!

Best friend's best friend was sent to his eternal reward for $80.

On a Sunday.

There had to be other services rendered for $400, or $650.

God damn.



ETA: Ah, just saw Ali's last post.

In this context, that's an unfortunate choice of words, no?

1 -- a : to melt down <render suet>; also : to extract by melting <render lard>
b : to treat so as to convert into industrial fats and oils or fertilizer

Sheba was a great dane cross. Very large dog. We dont have a yard big enough to bury anything that size without people wondering if i killed my husband! I think the vet fee was about $150 - $200 and the rest was the cremation fee.

Sheba was the best dog ever. She was worth ten times that and more. A piece of my heart died forever the day we lost her. :(

Our beautiful Molly lived for a whole year after her stroke. She improved dramatically on a home-cooked diet, so I did that for her. She got around with an Eddie's Wheels cart. She had another stroke two days before Christmas and seemed to be in pain ... the kids (all grown, all had known her from a pup) were in tears, and so were we.

Putting her down was terrible. I thought it would be best, but she looked at us with so much trust and love just before the injection, and then ... we killed her. My husband and I couldn't stop crying. I still don't feel right about it.

Maybe Jean is an MBA and the author is a whacko extremist. That would explain things.

RIP Cocoa.

From memory:

The Cat Got Dead

by Heywood Banks

O, the cat got dead
So we put him in a box
And we dug a little hole
And we covered it with rocks
Then we picked a couple dandelions
And said a little prayer
Then we all went off to bed
Cuz we mostly didn't care

But, in the middle of the night
A doggy started sniffin
Twas a Labrador Retriever
That belonged to Mrs. Griffin
And even though the cat was smelly & stiff
He thought it'd be a nice addition
To Mrs. Griffin's kitchen

Cause throughout the house
She had a kitty motif
With kitties on her coat, and her couch
And her colostomy
People bought her kitty gifts
But all the doggy could afford
Was a cat he dug up
With a case of rigor mortis.

When the woman saw the cat
There began the pandemonium
The dog dropped the cat
And it clunked to the Congoleum
It sprang back to life
Right there on the linoleum
Shook its shaggy head
Out of its catatonium

From the floor to the counter
And all over the kitchen
The cat was chased by the dog
The dog by Mrs. Griffin
By the living room couch
With the kitty motif
Out the front door screen
And into the street

Now old John Duke
Drives a delivery route
And he happened to be passing
With a van full of fruit

What are the chances?

He missed the woman
Missed the dog
Then his face went pale
Cuz in a splat the cat
Was guacamole with a tail

O, the cat got dead
So we put him in a box
And we dug a little hole
And we covered it with rocks
Then we picked a couple dandelions
And said a little prayer
Then we all went off to bed
Cuz we mostly did not care

You can sing that poem to the tune of 'thank god i'm a country boy'. Its funnier.

Gravdigr;878443 wrote:

From memory:

The Cat Got Dead

by Heywood Banks

Fear not.

The Cat Came Back.

[YOUTUBE]bETCusT5kNM[/YOUTUBE]

beautiful dog on the first post!!! new to the board and just saying Hello!!!

Hello jake! Nice to meet you and welcome to the Cellar.

Fair warning: do not open the red painted door at the back. Seriously, just don't.

Nirvana;876414 wrote:

I agree with everything you said IM Fuck Jean she is a cunt.

What asshole vet charges $650 to euthanize an animal? :eyebrow: Mine charges less than $50 Are you talking about cremation too?

Sheba was a bull elephant in musth. All in all a bargain, I'd say.

All of you who know me know that I am a huge dog fan. I have had dozens in my time, nearly all rescues or shelters. I have had them for varying lengths, some due to illness/age, others by finding them a better home than I could provide. I am currently down to one from an all-time high of eight. At one time.

There were times when my dog ate better than I did. I could easily have written that original post. It breaks my heart, the stories I heard at the ocal shelter. One 13 year old dachsie was left there because the husband of an ailing woman didn't want the thing and even though it was it's mommy's darling, she was in hospital (presumably not coming out) and he couldnt be fussed with upkeep, walks and feedings. Poor thing just sat in a small cage and cowered, wondering what had happened to his comfy home and his bed and his bone and whatever else he knew his whole life that was suddenly gone. Probaby also wondering what he had done to deserve this. There is, I hope, a TENTH ring of Hell for people who do things like this.

My Bongo now is a similar story. His previous owners left him tied to a tree alone for months at a time, only occasionally giving him food and clean water. He lived in a mud hole. He is NOT an outdoor dog. He is a boxer and a particularly beautiful one at that. I get compliments on him everywhere I take him.

When I rescued him, he had fleas, ticks, malnutrition, dehydration, heat exhaustion, tapeworms and something with his nerves that mystifies the vet. I paid to fix all the above, plus teaching him how to chew bones and play games and enjoy his life for the very first time. It amazes me that he is such a friendly and outgoing dog after all that. I am still working on the tremors thing. The vet has watched the videos I took of him doing it and says that althohugh he doesn't seem distressed and it is likely NOT epilepsy, he is still concerned. I am working on a log of the events to see if there is any commonality.

I have given away my babies several times, NEVER to a shelter. I always find good homes for them. Always. Because I care and because it is my duty to them.

When you love a pet, there are rules.. I'm sure you have seen that link before. All pet owners should be required to read them. Especially #4, 9 and 10. I have held the paw of three of my furkids as they went on to doggy heaven. It hurt me, but it really made them calmer and I felt that I had then done all I could to give them the best life I possibly could.

So yes, f*ck you, Jean. You could have done much better, regardless of the real reasons. You could have had the dog put to sleep humanely, letting her hear your voice reassuring her as she went to sleep. You could have sent her to a no-kill shelter, preferable with a large donation. You could even have found a home that would have cared more than you did, with full disclosure about what you knew. But you took the coward's way out, abandonnt your faithful cfiend and companion of twelve years to an uncertain fate, to be faced alone and scared and confused.

There is a quote, variously attributed to different personalities. I don't care who said it, I only know I like it.

"If there are no dogs in Heaven, then when I die I want to go where they went."
-Willl Rogers (allegedly)

When I take in a dog, I do it with the understanding that it is for life, with all that entails. Vet visits as needed, best food I can find, without regard to the cost, playtime, personal time, all needs met. No questions asked. The love of a pet is it's own reward.

Pamela

You Pamela are outstanding and a girl after my own heart! :hearts: