Plethora of Everything

My last blog, and the feelings that provoked me to write it, beg the question: "So, why are you still doing it Jessica?" A while back I supported the line of work I'm in by saying (or writing): "Saving lives every day does have a way of giving life meaning." And it's true. Every single day I go to work there's a chance I get to save a life... an innocent, sweet life. Take today for example: A buff, tattoo-caressed man in his mid 30's was in the adoption area. I happened to be at the computer on the floor (shelter jargon for adoption floor) when he approached, inquiring about a dog named Hilary. Hilary... that name rang a bell, I remembered very clearly seeing the name Hilary badly butchered on a kennel card, it shamefully spelled Hiliary rather than Hilary. And, I was sure I knew this dog, though I couldn't call up her face in memory right off. As soon as I typed in her 7 digit ID number I eagerly pressed F4 to bring up her picture- Hilary!

I am not happy with the person I've become at work. Don't get me wrong, the depth of my affection and love for the shelter pets has not waned and it never will. The extent of my concern for the animals has molded me into no more than a slave to the mercy they are or are not granted. However the degree to which my impatience, anger, frustration and, at times, complete disgust has swelled is now at a boiling point. The impatience, anger, frustration and disgust are in regards primarily to working with the public, 'my' public. -Every place's public is different. An example: two dogs, Gigi and Daisy were surrendered together sometime last week. These girls are spayed, docile, slightly shy, highly empathetic and in tune with their environment. They're trained dogs, the type that would never have an accident in the house. They walk well on a lead. Gigi and Daisy had 'keep together' written on each of their kennel cards. On Monday a seemingly nice young ma