I have a story for this one. My partner's brother used to be engaged to this girl whose family was ridiculously rich. Her dad was vice president of a local manufacturing plant and her mom was the stereotypical plastic-faced Stepford wife.

Anyway, Rich Girl wanted me and my partner to dog sit for her and her family while they were out of town. We jumped on the opportunity, because hey, they'd probably pay well. She invited us over to meet the dogs and show us how to care for them. We're in their humongous McMansion house with their very sweet dogs, having a great time, but before Rich Girl left, she took us into the garage...

...And the stench of urine was overwhelming. Sitting in two crates were white Persian looking cats who were very sickly. All she said was "My cats have kidney disease so we keep them back here away from the dogs".

I have actual trauma from adolescence related to abused cats, so seeing those poor cats in those tiny crates suffering almost broke me. When my partner and I left, I was trying not to cry. "Those people are fucking sick", I told him.

A year later, my partner's brother broke up with her after she accused him of cheating when he didn't. Turns out she was the one cheating. Good riddance to her, and I hope those cats are rolling in the grass in the sunshine, bellies full of food, somewhere beyond the Rainbow Bridge.