Ever since I started working at my day job, people calling me have been attempting to reach the Toronto Humane Society (THS for the rest of the entry). I don’t normally get phone calls at work; my job is mostly email-based. So when I arrive in the morning and my phone blinks to inform me I have a message, I’m reasonably certain it’s one of the masses attempting to reach the THS and, more often than not, the message consists of a click. Sometimes there’s a sigh, sometimes a murmur, sometimes it’s a brief outburst of someone yelling at someone else before the inevitable click.
This morning it was an old woman, calling to give the THS a piece of her mind.
Her meak and cracking voice, hesitant at first, began by asking if she’d reached the right place. I can’t for the life of me imagine how so many people still leave message for the THS when I explicitly state in my message that they’ve reached Christina at such and such a company.
The old woman leaving her message soon launched into quite the spiel about the animals that get left at the THS on a regular basis. “I heard that you kill the animals. Now I want to know, why would you go and kill the poor animals?”… it went on. She began to sound more and more vexxed as her voice wobbled and her articulation degenerated.
I couldn’t listen to the whole message; I fast-forwarded and deleted it. The sound of such a pathetic voice championing for the lives of dejected animals was just too much. I honestly don’t know how workers at the THS do it on a daily basis; they are there to help the animals as much as they possibly, humanely, can and then they have to listen to the likes of that on top of it all? It must be quite the depressing job. Hats off to the Toronto Humane Society and all they do to as best as possible accomodate all the lonely dejected animals that inhabit our bit of this land.