It may get hairy…

Posts tagged ‘Jacques van Dyk’

The world is a vampire*

So I’ve had some time for retrospection and feel a need to ramble some.

I’m fully aware that to publicly accuse someone can have severe consequences. I didn’t really think those consequences through, but in hindsight, I feel I can forgive myself this slip of impulsiveness (I want to write ‘impulsivity’, and although Wikipedia says I’m right, Firefox says I’m wrong).

I know I some times make jokes to make things seem lighter and less serious – partly for others’ sakes, as it’s never nice having your wall/inbox filled with negativity, but it’s also partly for me. When something hits me really hard, I can’t just grieve, or get mad, a part of me has to keep it within and that’s the part that jokes, so that no one knows exactly how I feel.

The anger I have at this man goes beyond words. I’m angry because he lied, I’m angry because he lied to me for so long, but most of all I’m angry because he hurt an entirely innocent animal. Yes, the abuse wasn’t beating her, or kicking her, but was neglectful abuse – to me that makes it no less cruel.

I’m also aware of my part in this. Regardless of what the end result was, I shouldn’t have left her with someone else. I should have stayed in SA, instead of dropping everything and going traveling. Leaving Nibbles and Shadow was probably the hardest part of my traveling (as you can explain when you’ll be back to humans), but remorse doesn’t justify actions.

I know I’m facing criticism (unsaid, but definitely implied) in leaving my cats, firstly, in publicly accusing him, secondly, and in ‘replacing’ Shadow with the Guns.

I hope those that know me, know me well enough to know that nothing could replace Shadow and that I would never attempt to ‘replace’ any animal. The Guns were acquired because they needed me and, perhaps in part, because I needed them. Both the Guns and Shadow are (perhaps was, in the latter case, which breaks my heart) very sociable and, should I have gotten Shadow back, I would have had to get her company regardless, so the aim was to have three cats in total.

My dreams last night showed me just how much this has affected me. I went to bed early, because my pc had decided to join forces with my conscience and wouldn’t let me play the episode I was hoping would help me forget my woes….thus, my guilt took hold.

In hindsight, the dream was humorous, but shortly after midnight (at which stage I’m usually not yet asleep), I woke sweating and grabbing for the Guns. I had dreamt that Eric Northman (vampire from True Blood, who has only ever seemed delicious rather than dangerous to me) owned the Guns and had kept them for his ill-will. I set out to rescue them from some interminably clichéd abandoned barn and got quite far, after several attempts and almost run-ins with ‘bad guys.’ Eventually, I got the Guns in the car, locked up and started the car…only to find picturesque Eric sitting next to me, gun in hand (literal gun, not a kitten), which is when I woke up.

It sounds stupid, as most dreams are, but I woke realising that I’m not doing a bad job protecting and raising the Guns. They’re as healthy as anything according to the vet and, as I type, they’re climbing all over me and the back of my chair (we both have the scratches to prove it).

I’ve never been one who has the courage of my convictions. In fact, I rarely ever believe that what I’m doing is right, although I know I almost always try to do the right thing, it often backfires, or I screw up. The problem with having an unlimited supply of anger, is that when it’s coupled with a cruel and blaming conscience, it becomes a right nag.

So after all my actions yesterday, I was left wondering. Did I do right? The answer is, not with the Facebook post. I shouldn’t have posted, I know that, but in hindsight I’m not going to beat myself up about it. That was my revenge, perhaps immature, perhaps silly, but it was my slight way at getting back at him. I needed him to know I know. That I’m aware that he’s been lying to me for so long.

However, my revenge is now done and what I need to do now is the right thing for others. This isn’t about me any more. As any abuser (towards humans or animals) he must be stopped and I will do everything in my power to make sure that he doesn’t hurt any animal again.This afternoon, I’ll be meeting with the police to see what they advise I do. They will know the right authorities to report animal cruelty to and they’ll tell me whether it will be worth it to charge him with theft.

To those that have supported me and/or given me brilliant advice, thank you so much. I’m not sure I would have the courage of my convictions this time if it weren’t for you.

For those that criticise, it’s cool, I was an ass. I’ll take the brunt of your criticism.

*As per normal, if I can’t think of a title, I use the song in my head. With the Eric Northman thing, it’s no surprise this was the song playing.

Animal abuse is punishable

So I’ve been told I should blog about what’s happened. If anything, just to feel better and in part to publicly accuse a man guilty of animal neglect, which amounts to abuse.

I’m not sure what to write, to be honest. So, instead of stuffing meaningless words into a post, for once I’ll just tell you the facts as I know them.

To protect myself legally, although I’m not sure if it helps, these facts are hearsay. I haven’t any proof other than emails I received from people who benefit in no way from lying to me. Thus, I believe them.

Today I was informed that we don’t know how Shadow is or whether or not she was put down. We will never know.

It turns out that Jacques van Dyk took Shadow, a beautiful, healthy 4 year old cat when he broke up with his fiancé. He prohibited her from taking the cats, which included her own Persians and Shadow. By this stage, Niblet had passed away a happy cat  (for that I am forever indebted to his fiancé).

From what I understand, the fiancé kept in touch with their landlady in order to check upon the cats. Up until she received a call from the landlady, the cats were healthy. The call was to find out whether the fiancé knew where Jacques was, as he had apparently packed up and left in the middle of the night.

Leaving all the cats locked in the house with no food.

The cats were alive and alright when the landlady found them. The fiancé asked that the landlady wait until she got there, to take the cats somewhere safe. The landlady didn’t wait and took Shadow and the rest of the cats to the SPCA.

From what I understand, this was well over a year go.

The bastard has been lying to me for well over a year. In hindsight, I knew he didn’t have her, but the audacity it took to agree to let me pick her up only a few months ago, is unforgivable.

The neglect of animals who are in your care is unforgivable.

Abandoning them, locking them up in a house and leaving them with no food is abuse and is punishable.

I shall be laying a claim of theft at the police station and shall take all email evidence (including emails and texts from Jacques proving that he had the animals at one stage and his subsequent lies after the fact) to animal rights organisations and the like. The police will also be informed the abuse.

This may not help, but hopefully it will help to scare him into taking care of animals that are in his possession and implied protection.

I am guilt-ridden and heart-broken and so will stop now. I hate myself for leaving her with him and wish I could take it back. If I hadn’t had abandoned my animals with strangers, this would never have happened.

For those who don’t know the story thus far:

Post 1,

Post 2

Post 3

He had the nerve to tell me he was heart-broken.

 

 

The terrible text

So Mr From a Lesbian texted me this morning (sms for the saffas). I find some black humour in the fact that when he texted, I was in the midst of a made-up scenario that included me in ninja-wear, him in agony and whole bunch of surveillance equipment (which I had used to track the sneaky bugger down…and find proof that he has my cat).

Said text:

“hey girl im so sorry about sadow. f*king hart broken after all this time.”

This was after many texts and calls from me, begging for him to call me back with his Gran’s number, so I could contact her and find out more, which he’d promised to send. I hadn’t heard back from him until this morning. I wonder if he read this blog (he’s on my FB list after all) and knows it’s been suggested I take legal action… I doubt it though.

After my attack of the short fuse, I know he’s more wary of me, so perhaps that’s why he contacted.

But why don’t I believe him? I would much rather believe him, than have this sinking doubt that keeps me up at nights….and not to mention the rage. It ebbs and flows and I resemble a melodramatic schizo.

I joke, but it’s not funny. So I responded, in a rather curt way, asking for his Gran’s number again, so I could contact the nearest shelters. His response was:

“You think i hvnt done that…and sorry I cnt give her extra stress.hope you understand. ill find her” (please note, the cretin’s spelling, not mine).

He won’t find her. He’s lying. Even if I were to take all my emotions out of the equation, logic says he’s so far from the truth it no longer has meaning – there are too many variances. I’ve never been good with logic, it fails me almost daily, but this time, I’m certain.

Firstly, he moves to Durban, apparently has two places, one with the cat, one that’s not pet-friendly. Then, the cat’s in Harrismith with his Gran. I can pick the cat up first of September. He then refuses to answer my repeated calls. Eventually, nearly a month later, he tells me she’s been missing for ages….then tells me missing for a week. Then somehow forgets he told me she’s at his Gran’s. And now he won’t give me said Gran’s number, so I can call the shelters around there.

Am I wrong, or does this not add up? (I’m not so good at maths either).

 

Side note: for those that don’t know the story, 1st post and 2nd post.

Update: Dear Mr From a Lesbian – I Hate You.

Quick update: I called Mr From a Lesbian again.

He answered, as he was obviously caught off-guard (I woke him up).

I waited, asked neutral greeting questions, until I could prove his signal was fine. When he realised who it was, he started lying.

Blatantly umming and ahhing – saying my cat is missing (for ages, he says), when I ask him for details on how long, I get a week. Then I ask him how his Gran’s dealt with it – he stumbles. She’s obviously not with his gran – he’d forgotten he’d told me that.

I kind of lost my temper with him. He was lying. I don’t think he has her anymore. If I were to bet on anything, I’d say he gave her away or abandoned her when he moved to Durbs. I told him to tell me when I call to get his Gran’s number. He said tonight.

He won’t answer, but hey, I’ll still call. Again and again and again. I probably shouldn’t have lost my temper, but I can’t help it. And I truly believe now that he doesn’t have her 😦

PS. If you subscribe to my blog, never fear, these melodramatic updates won’t continue. I promise to perk up and vent about normal stuff, like Infernal. In fact, I have one such vent ready. Oh and the elephant (not mammoth) is the subscribe button. I’ll beg for you to subscribe at a later date, when I haven’t a heavy heart and anger churning in my soul.

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