SNOOKIE:

Snookie came to us in May 2005; he was a 26-lb orange male, one of our favorite kinds of MCs – the orange males are known for being mellow, sweet, laid back and happy guys. However, Snookie didn’t get much of a chance. He was adopted out of the shelter and returned through the “drop box” one night later. Did you know that at most shelters, people can actually put animals through the door and “drop” them into the shelter, much as your mail “drops” through your mail slot in your door? Well, for whatever reason, Snookie didn’t last long in his new family and came back to the shelter – he had been a little sick before he got adopted, and then when he was returned, he got very ill with a terrible Upper Respiratory Infection – very common in shelter kitties, but in Snookie’s case, the stress of the shelter, being adopted, then returned, and then in the shelter again caused his illness to become life-threatening. Plus, the shelter did NOT medicate him adequately, quickly enough, or with the right medicine. By the time I got him in rescue and took him immediately to my vet, she took one look at him and diagnosed him with an illness that is usually fatal. In spite of her heroic and herculean efforts to save him – including consulting with vets at the UC Davis vet school – Snookie could not survive this illness and he died.

Needless to say, we were very upset – my vet, members of our rescue team, and me. This was a kitty who easily could have recovered from his illness IF he had been diagnosed early enough, treated with the right medication and the right dosage. This same shelter lost about 4 other cats to the same illness at the same time, for the same reasons. We have found that telling the shelter vets about these situations only gets us “blacklisted” at the shelter and limits our ability to rescue other cats. I still get angry when I think about how this poor boy was treated and how his life ended – angry at the family who adopted him and then didn’t even have enough courage to return him during the day; angry at the shelter vet who under medicated and misdiagnosed him, and angry that he is just one of many animals who suffer at these places that are called “shelters.” I also still remember him sitting in my house, barely able to breathe due to his congestion, and how I had hoped he would be coming “home” to be fostered by me. That memory makes me very sad for him, and all animals who suffer.

— Elaine Lyford-Nojima, May 2005