Call your local trash service and ask if they have any kittens available. Apparently, pet population control is just a matter of tossing litters of tiny kittens into dumpsters and trash cans, with and without plastic bags to suffocate them quicker. Under appreciated trash collectors are compassionately sifting through foul smelling waste to rescue the kittens who survive long enough to be heard before they are crushed in a compactor. Instead of looking away, say something nice the next time you see a trash collector. They clean up for the worst kinds of people in ways you wouldn’t expect.
While I appreciate their efforts on behalf of the poor kittens (and curse the monsters that would throw them out like that), I haven’t any nice words otherwise for the trash collectors here. Their failure to pick up my trash for almost two weeks, despite repeated calls from both myself and my landlord, resulted in my being assaulted and terrorized by the next-door neighbor to the point where I do not feel safe in my own home. He also sent thugs after my son, which resulted in his having a bruised kidney and ruptured spleen, in retaliation for cussing the neighbor out – because the neighbor was cussing ME.
For those two weeks, in order to prevent the trash from being thrown all over my car and in my courtyard, I had to haul it out every morning – having been assured it would be picked up that day – then back in at night when it wasn’t. 8 bags of trash. Back and forth, back and forth. In 90 degree heat.
I will have even further unkind words for these people when they send me my bill …
Who provides your service?