Why I Hate July.

I run a large cat rescue in Baltimore City, and July is the month I hate the most. It's the peak of what's known as Kitten Season (aka: I'd Rather Poke My Eyes Out With a Stick Than Read Another Email From Someone Who Wants to Give Up a Cat Season.) I usually average 10 or so emails a week, asking me to help an orphaned kitten, a stray cat, or a random mama/babies living on the street. During kitten season, that number increases significantly. I hate this time of year because I know the number of animals I can't help increases, and since I do rescue with my whole heart, I worry about what happens to those I have to turn away.
What people don't realize is that my worry, my heartache, my bank account, my stress level, my insomnia, my sanity....all of that could be improved if they'd just get their animal one simple surgery. Excuses such as "it's too expensive" fall on deaf ears, because there are clinics everywhere. Not to mention that the person giving the excuse usually has a cigarette in one hand, and beer in the other. Stop drinking for a week and be responsible so I can have a break, asshole.  Then there are the women who try to pass off the threat of toxoplasmosis during pregnancy as a reason to give up their cats. When I tell them that the chances of them contracting the disease is hundreds of times more likely to happen from raw chicken or beef, than it is their cat, I usually get a scathing reply about how insensitive I am to their needs. Really? I can only hope that your kids pick up some sense of responsibility during their lifetime that you obviously won't provide.
I think my favorite people this time of year are the halfwits who lie on their applications for animals, as if I'm too stupid to figure out that a 19-year old doesn't own their own home with an occupation of "ticket taker at AMC movies." That salary can't make a Vespa payment, let alone a home mortgage. It's not my first day at the rodeo, jackass, and you certainly aren't getting one of my kittens.

July brings the massive amounts of requests for help, because those kittens born in January are now having their own litters, in addition to their mom having her 2nd litter of the year. July is when the horror stories come:
"My neighbor is out in his lawn throwing kittens over the fence like Frisbees, can you help? (But don't tell him I called you, because I don't want to have to deal with his retaliation.)"
"Did you call the police?"
"No, I just want you to come get the kittens."
"Where are the kittens?"
"I don't know, you'll have to go walking around and look for them. Be careful of this guy though, he's a crackhead with a ton of cats that aren't fixed."
"But if he has a bunch of cats out there breeding, and he's throwing the kittens away, you'll need me to come every four months."
"Yeah, probably....is that ok?"

No, it's not okay. Rescues are not shelters. We don't get funding from the government, we don't have people dying and willing us thousands of dollars. We do this out of our own paychecks, with sporadic donations from good people, and the occasional fundraiser that gives us ulcers putting together and praying people show up. If I help you, I want you to do everything in your power to make sure I won't have to help you again. Spay your cat, turn in your psycho neighbor, hold a bake sale to TNR the colony you've been feeding. I am ONE PERSON, and while I am making a huge difference, I still have the same amount of hours in my day as you.