So, I have a new "gig" that I just started over the weekend: I am going to be volunteering at an animal shelter on Saturdays! That's right folks, simply gracing the world with my sort of "larger than life" personality wasn't enough to fulfill my sense of humanitarian charity, I had to do MORE (ok, ew, this is grossing even me out). Sometimes I feel like I catch myself getting so wrapped up in "early 20s drama", that cyclical, self-serving vortex that never seems to let go, that I thought I would make a concerted effort to snap some things into focus. And actually, my first inclination was to volunteer at a convalescent home. My friend goes in to read to the elderly a few times a month so I thought "awwwww, how lovely", but holy FUCK the staff at those places are checked out. After a series of phone calls, I eventually gave up: "NO! I don't want to intern as a nurse! No, no you're not listening. I'm not trying to earn college credits! FOR THE LOVE OF GOD I JUST WANT TO READ A DAMN BOOK TO AN OLD DUDE AND GO HOME AND DRINK IN PEACE!". So that didn't work out. But then I thought "hey! I like animals! And I'm not home enough to justify actually getting a pet because I'm too popular so why don't I volunteer at a shelter!?" I do love animals. They're the only living things that are more insecure than I am. Because as down as I may get on myself, all I have to do is not let a dog lick my mouth and they're in like full, "Darlene 4th season Roseanne" depression. Although now that I think about it that exact scenario has probably happened to me too but whatever.
After scheduling an appointment, I went in for my orientation. Now, ok, granted, the shelter IS in Lincoln Heights, but holy smokes I was literally the ONLY white dude of the bunch. I was all prepared with my volumes of materials printed out in my kicky yellow folder and my pen and glasses all ready to go. I walk in and it's a group of sullen Latino teenagers huddled around a table (some with their parents, even). I sidled up to my seat and played it cool, obviously: "pffft whose amazing folder is this? I just found it on the ground. I'm way too punk to be prepared for this kinda thing" etc. And if I wasn't uncomfortable enough, I felt an untimely bowel movement coming on right after I sat down. Now I think the orientation was MAYBE an hour long but in my head it was 4 days of torture because I was sweating and swaying in my seat waiting to be able to tear off the bathroom. Looking back on it, I probably should have payed closer attention than I did: Orientation Leader: "Now, the animals with the yellow marks on their cages are feral and should not be approached" Me: "THIS SEEMS IRRELEVANT, CAN WE WRAP THIS UP!?!?!?" But when you gotta go, you gotta go, eh? Let me tell you, that the Q&A that followed was perhaps the longest experience of my life. Every hand that raised was like a small razor blade snaking its way through my colon. That's right, really visualize it, folks.
It was a few weeks after that when I actually went in for my first day. For some reason it seemed like a good idea to show up like an hour before they closed (makes sense for your first day, right?). Bear in mind that this place is funded by the city so the staff doesn't know WHAT'S going on and there's about half the amount of supplies than you need but whatever. I show up and the person at the front desk just directs me to the sign in sheet. "What should I do, exactly?" I ask. "I don't know, you could sweep?" he says. That was not terribly helpful, although it doesn't really matter because by that time I was more than a little beguiled by the PUPPY WALL! I know, right? I fucking wall of cages full of puppies!!!!! Throw in a drinking fountain that runs ice cream sundaes and you've found my happy place! Anyway, so eventually I found another volunteer. The orange reflective mesh vest was the giveaway (because obviously the city of Los Angeles couldn't afford matching polos or anything like that). She was MORE helpful but still pretty clueless. "I mean, they don't really care here. You can kinda just walk around and pretend like you're doing something". But I didn't want to just aimlessly do nothing and look busy! Where am I, work?? And then she asked me "so how many hours do you have? You know, like community service?" and then it all made sense! THAT'S why everyone is so checked out! When I told her this was just for fun she responded with a "Oh. That's...cool?"
The guy at the front desk did mention that I could change the litter in the cat rooms so that seemed like a good place to start. Oh my god you guys, the cat rooms were like 70% kittens and they were SO. GODDAMN. CUTE. I instantly bonded with this little Calico. Simon, I named him. I noticed myself doing this thing where I'd be gushing like a damn girl over those things and then the second someone would walk by: "Hmmmm, yes, this cage seems to be clean and secure. I can now move on". Of course the second they left it's back to "oh well look at you, little one! I just want to dress you up and take you out to dinner with me! Yes I do!". There was also that crushing moment where I'd be playing with one of the kittens and then I'd come back 10 minutes later to see the cage empty. "Where have they taken him!?" I would think. "What selfish pricks would pluck a poor kitten from their steel cage and throw them into the harsh underbelly of a happy, adopted home?!?!". It's funny how possessive I get over those little critters.
