One of our dogs jumped the fence, wandered ten miles, and got hit by a car. The driver was decent enough to try to help, but his pelvis was shattered and the clinic had to do an emergency euthanasia. We could not find our dog for five days, didn't even know he was already dead, and the clinic refused to give the guy our contact information from the microchip (his nametag was one of those cheap aluminum ones- scratched up beyond readability, like the previous two cheapo tags I replaced. Oh, but the nice stainless steel indestructible tag I ordered for the dog arrived in the mail yesterday). In fact, at this same clinic I had dropped off a Lost Dog poster (this was how the guy finally got in contact with us- he came in to ask again for the contact information and recognized the picture) and failed to connect the dots. In fact they didn't even contact us at all. We found all this out two days ago.
Now, to top it all off, today my mom and stepdad decide that the perfect solution to everyone's problem was to buy a puppy. A goddamn puppy when we just lost a dog horribly and still have an unreasonable number of animals. Somehow I'm the villain for getting pissed off at them!