The smallest and weakest

Ok, here's my huge rant. Big one, huge one. I love animals. When I come home, and there are a bunch of kitty and doggy faces at the front door, I'm happy. If you don't tell the dogs, I'll confess I'm probably more a kitty than a dog person, but I really love MY dogs. I'm a little embarrased to admit I have six cats and two dogs (with my sons' dog here about half the time, sometimes it's three dogs). I never meant for this to happen, and for a long time, we were a one dog, one cat family. Then I started volunteering for an animal rescue group. At first, we lost a cat who was born with FELV, and adopted two since my husband and I liked both of the cats the same. Then I was involved in a direct rescue of an abused 4.5 week old kitten and for some reason, I couldn't give this one up. He was so dependant on me and only liked me, and I had to keep him. My husband was wary, but he was easy to talk into it. Then came the mom and her two kittens. I fostered them, but I'd fostered lots of others who are in really good homes now. No one would even look at these cats. I dragged them to adoption fairs for a year and no adoptions. Maybe it's because they hissed and spit and tried to scratch and bite everyone who looked at them. Yeah, that's probably it. Anyway, we found out we were moving, and I couldn't find another foster home to take them. It was kitten season, and everyone was full up, so we talked about it, sucked it up, and adopted them ourselves. So yeah, I'm the crazy cat lady, but I do know my limits and my limit was hit when my husband said one more and he's out of here. I don't think he really means it, but I'm also not the only one in this house, and his happiness matters too. Not to mention, he's gone way above and beyond and he really loves the animals too. I'm lucky that way. Now for the rant. This morning as hubs was going to work, he took the dogs out. I heard him yelling at one of the dogs and I came down and asked what happened. He said there was a sick cat in the driveway, and Yoda was going over there and smelling it so he had to yell at him. I went outside, and the cat was drinking out of our fountain which has a little bleach in it to repel algea. I got it some water and watched it. It was wobbling around and crying. It wasn't at all scared of me. I got it some food but it wouldn't eat. It had a big scabby place on it's side. It would drink, and drink, and drink but it couldn't lick the water off of it's face very well. I was SO upset and called the police. The dispatcher must like cats because she sounded as upset as I was and said she'd find someone to help me. I got a call from a police officer who was off duty, and he said the local shelter wouldn't accept any animals. Now I don't live in a tiny, small town. It's not huge, but there are 60,000 people here and the city has a contract for shelter service from the local Humane Society. I asked if I am just supposed to let it wobble around until it got to the busy highway and got hit by a car. Is that how they humanely treat animals in this city? Is that their euthanasia program? I told the policeman that this cat obviously at one time belonged to someone because it would let me pick it up and hold it, and that when it needed help, it found a person to help it, and I'd be damned if I was going to let this poor thing spend it's last moment in the middle of a highway being mowed down by a car. He was upset too, and finally said he'd come out and get it and figure something out. This guy went above and beyond too, and you can be sure that I will follow up and find out what happened to this cat, and woe to the shelter if they didn't take care of it. I will be like the hounds of hell if they refused to accept a sick animal and put it out of it's misery in a caring responsible manner.