[~Fala~]

OK basically I have wanted guinea pigs for a very long time but I know I cannot have one for a few reasons. I always look at the ones for adoption and just wishing I could have one or two of them. I just go to petfinder.com. I was out browsing the piggies again when I visited the site of a piggy rescue (link off of petfinder). This doesn't have anything to do with guinea pigs, it was on the site of one of the pig rescues, but it is extremely sad so I thought I'd share...

Sorry for spelling mistakes and for the font color, size, caps and what not, I didn't write it. I am not sharing website for the safety of my location and the guinea pig rescue's protection as I don't know what to do, if I should give their website or not. (Hope this is OK)

[FONT=arial]I Put Dogs in the Gas Chamber[/FONT]
[FONT=georgia]Yes - I gas dogs and cars for a living. I'm an Animal Control officer in a very small town in central North Carolina. I'm in my mid thirties and have been working for the town in different positions since high school. There isn't much work here and working for the ounty provides good pay and benefits for a person like me without a higher educaiton. I'm the person you all write about how horrible a person I am.[/FONT]
[FONT=Georgia]I'm the one who gasses the dogs and cats and makes them suffer. I'm the one who pulls their dead corpses out smelling of carbon monoxide and throws them into green plastic bags. But I'm also the one who hates my job and hates what I have to do.[/FONT]
[FONT=Georgia]First off, all you people out there that judge me - don't. God is judging me and I know I'm going to Hell. Yes - I AM going to hell. I won't lie. What I do is despicable, cold, cruel and I feel like a serial killer. But I'm not entirely to blame - if the law would mandate a spay and neuter program, lots of these dogs and cats wouldn't be here for me to gas. I'm the devil - I know it - but I want you people to see there is another side to me; another side to the Devil Gas Chamber Man.[/FONT]
[FONT=Georgia]The shelter usually gasses on Friday morning, the day most people look forward to. This is the day that I hate and wish that time would stand still on Thursday night.[/FONT]
[FONT=Georgia]On Thursday nights - late - after nobody's around, my friend and I go to a fast food joint and buy $50.00 worth of cheeseburgers, chicken sandwiches, and fries. I'm not supposed - actually, I'm not allowed - to feed the dogs on Thursday because I'm told they will make a mess in the gas chamber - and why waste the food! But on Thursday night, when the shelter is closed and no one is there, I go into the saddest room that anyone could ever imagine and let all the doomed dogs out of their cages![/FONT]
[FONT=Georgia]My buddy and I unwrap each cheeseburger and chicken sandwich and feed them to the skinny, starving dogs. In all my years of doing this I have never been bit and the dogs have never fought over the food. They swallow the food so fast I don't believe they even taste it! Their tails are wagging and some don't even go for the food right away - they roll over on their back and want me to scratch their tummy. They all start running, jumping and kissing me and my buddy. Then they go back to their food and come back to us. All their eyes are on us with such trust and hope; and their tails wag so fast that I have come out with black and blue marks on my thighs. They devour the food. Then it's time for them to devour some love and peace. My buddy and I sit down on the dirty, pee-stained concrete floor and we let the dogs jump all over us. They lick us - they put their butts in the air to play - and they play with each other. Some lick each other but most are glued to me and my buddy.[/FONT]
[FONT=Georgia]I look into the eyes of each and give each of them a name - they will NOT die without a name. I give each dog at least five minutes of unconditional love and touch. I talk to them. I tell them that I'm so sorry that tomorrow they will die a gruesome, long and torturous death at the hands of me in the gas chamber. Some tilt their heads to try to understand. I tell them they will be in a better place. And I beg them not to hate me. I tell them that I know I'm going to hell but that they will all be playing with all the other animals in heaven.[/FONT]
[FONT=Georgia]After about 30 minutes I take each dog individually into their feces-filled concrete jail cell and pet them. I scratch them under their chins. Some give me their paw and I just want to die. I JUST WANT TO DIE! I close the jail cell door on each dog and ask them to forgive me. As my buddy and I walk out, we watch as every dogs smiles at us - some don't every move their head. They will sleep - with a full belly and a false sense of security.[/FONT]
[FONT=Georgia]After we walk out of the doomed dog room, my buddy and I go into the cat room. We take our box and put the very friendly kittens and the pregnant cats into it. (The shelter doesn't keep tabs on the cats like they do the dogs.) As I hand-pick which cats are going to make it out of this slaughter house, I feel like I'm playing God - deciding who's going to live and die. We put the cats into my truck - on blankets in the back. Usually as soon as we start to drive away, there are purring cats and kittens sitting on our necks or rubbing against us.[/FONT]
[FONT=Georgia]My buddy and I make out two-hour one-way trip to a county that is very wealthy - they use injection to kill animals. We go to the exclusing neighborhoods and let out one or two cats at a time. They don't want to run - they want to stay with us. We end up shooing them away which makes me feel sad. I tell them that these rich people will adopt them. I tell them if worse-comes-to-worse and they do get 'put down', it will be with a painless needle being cradled by a loving veterinarian. After the last cat is free, we drive back to our town.[/FONT]
[FONT=Georgia]It's about 5:00 in the morning now; about two hours until I have to go gas my best friends. I go home - take a shower - take my 4 anti-anxiety pills and drive to work. I don't eat. I CAN'T EAT. It's not time to put these animals in the gas chamber. I put my earplugs in. When I go to collect the dogs they are so excited to see me. They jump up and kiss me - they think we are going to play.[/FONT]
[FONT=Georgia]Then I put them in the rolling cage and take them to the gas chamber. They know. THEY JUST KNOW. Then can smell the death. They smell the fear. They start whimpering the second I place them in the box.[/FONT]
[FONT=Georgia]The boss tells me to squeeze in as many as I can to save on gas. He watches every move I make. He know I hate him - he knows I hate my job. But I have to do as I'm told. He tells me to throw all the dogs and cats in together and he watches all the fighting and screaming. Thank goodness the sound is very muffled to me because of my ear plugs. The boss walks out as he sees me turn on the gas.[/FONT]
[FONT=Georgia]I walk out as fast as I can and go into the bathroom. I take a pin and draw blood from my hand. Why? The pain and the blood takes my brain off of what I just did. In 40 minutes I have to go back and unload the now-dead animals. I pray that none survived which happens sometimes when I overstuff the chamber. I pull them out with thick gloves and the smell of carbon monoxide makes me sick. So does the vomit, the blood and all the bowel movements. I pull them out and put them in large, green garbage bags. I tell myself, 'They are all in heaven now'.[/FONT]
[FONT=Georgia]I then start cleaning up the mess - the mess YOU PEOPLE are creating by not spaying or neutering your animals. The mess YOU PEOPLE are creating by not demanding that a vet come in and do this humanely. You ARE the taxpayers!! DEMAND that this practice STOP![/FONT]
[FONT=Georgia]So don't call me 'The Monster', 'The Devil', The Gasser' - call the politicians, the shelter directors and the county people those names. Heck, call the Governor - tell him to make it stop![/FONT]
[FONT=Georgia]As usual, I will take my sleeping pills tonight to drown out the screams I have heard in the past, before I discovered my ear plugs. I will jump and twitch in my sleep. I believe I'm beginning to hallucinate.[/FONT]
[FONT=Georgia]This is my life. Don't judge me. Believe me . . . I judge myself enough.[/FONT]

[FONT=Georgia]Author Unknown

[/FONT]My personal opinion: I have no idea if this was just made up by an animal lover or there is someone that loves animals and has to have that job.. I have my doubts because how could he spend 50 dollars a week on food for dogs. They should at least think of a more benificial way of spending that money to help the dogs and cats. If all is true I pray that this message gets around. On the site it says all stories are true (including this one).


There are also a few other stories like this one from that site I may post.