You know what’s crazy? I’ll tell you what’s crazy™
The animal hoarders in the ugly little house.
The sky is gray. The yard is muddy. The air is cool and rain is starting to fall.
I get out of the news vehicle and survey the situation.
A school bus suddenly pulls up.
It’s light blink yellow and the bus driver eye balls me suspiciously.
“How ya doing?” she says through the open bus window.
But her eyes say “What are you doing in this neighborhood Newsman?”
The bus pulls away, revealing two police cars and an animal control truck in front of the ugly little house.
I walk up to the cops and ask what’s going on.
The cops tell me that they are waiting for an adult to come home so they can begin confiscating animals.
I’m not sure what this means. Does it mean the person in the house is under age? Does it mean the person in the house doesn’t have the authority to surrender animals?
I don’t think I ever figure this question out.
“The owner wants you to get off their property,” the cop nearest me says.
I look down at my boots.
I’m standing one foot on the lady’s front lawn.
I take a tiny hippy hop backward onto the street.
Freedom of press is a beautiful thing.
The woman controls her front yard. I can do whatever I need to do on this public street 12 inches from where I’m standing.
I laugh as my photographer zooms in on the front door.
I see a small cat yawning at the feet of the three metro police officers standing on the stoop.
I look around for signs of other media.
I am alone.
In the business they call this an exclusive.
I’ve done this before. I know that animals coming out of a house in boxes and cages is compelling and people will watch.
It’s interesting how I got to this point.
I was heading in a completely different direction, going to another story, when a source calls me and says get here now.
“conditions are deplorable,” he says.
The source tells me that it all starts when police went with Tennessee Department of Corrections officers to serve a parole violation warrant.
They entered the home.
Once inside they didn’t see their bad guy, but they did see 10 cats, three dogs and fecal matter on the stairs.
“There’s a hole in the floor boards where animals reportedly come and go through a crawl space,” the source tells me.
Animal control is called and the animals will soon be seized.
I watch as officials walk up the steps of the ugly little house. They are carrying cat carriers into the ugly little house two at a time.
I watch as they exit the ugly little house with cats in the cat carriers.
I hear a chorus of meows coming from the animal control truck.
I look at the cats. They look sad, but they don’t look too raggedy.
Then I see the hooded pet owner walk down the stairs holding a dog. The dog looks like it has been through hell.
She loads the dog in the animal control truck.
I think I hear the woman sniffle and choke back a tear.
She pulls her hoodie in front of her face.
“Would you talk to us mam?”
“nope,” comes her sharp reply.
“They are surrendering all 10 cats and two dogs,” the animal control officer will tell me.
“what about the third dog?” I ask.
They won’t surrender that one they tell me. They’ve had it a long time.”
Animal control workers struggle to get the mangy dog in the truck. The dog seems nice enough, but they slide a noose around the dog’s neck anyway as they try and push it up the ramp into the truck.
The dog is scared, and turns and snips at the animal control officer.
The noose is a good idea and keeps the dog from hurting itself and the man.
And like that it’s over.
The cages are shut and the front door slams shut.
The cops leave and the trucks zoom away.
The dogs, the cats and the little ugly house a memory, soon to be on the nightly news.
How do you live in fecal matter with 10 cats and 3 dogs in a tiny, ugly little house?
When does it go bad?
Does it start with one dog and one cat and then another sneaks into the house, then another is adopted and then one walks in the front door.
Do you suddenly have 10 cats and 3 dogs and a pile of crap on the top of the stairs?
When does it happen? How does it happen? Why don’t you care?
Are apathetic? Are you stupid? Were you raised in a barn and this is ok?
How do you just pull a hoodie over your face and pretend nobody knows you?
Is it good for the animals? Is it good for the people who live in the little ugly house?
The school children who get on and off at this bus stop know. They know the smell and they hear the meows and they see the cats stacked on the window sill.
Now the little ugly house is quiet. It’s still ugly, but at least now, it’s free of animals who are receiving medical treatment.
Meow.
Life’s Crazy™