One day, I'm going to write a book about my job (in middle-management at the missouri humane society).
Last night a beagle was brought in by animal control. It had a collar with a name ("Kisser") and ID tag, but the phone number was outdated, so couldn't contact the owner.
Beagle was fine when I left for the evening, and I was the last one out. First one in in the morning, and I find the beagle dead, having tried to push through the bottom of the chain link front of the kennel, and got stuck, strangling himself trying to get back out. Got to take pictures and pry him out with pliers myself.
Which was bad.
Later this afternoon, nice guy and his kids came in looking for his lost beagle named Kisser. Yeah, I got to tell him why he wasn't getting his beagle back. Because our old stray runs suck because we have no budget, his dog died on my property, in my care.
I am currently involved in a contracted long-term graphic novel project, which means I am absolutely unavailable for commissions, trades, or any other job offers. Please check back later!
