Driving on Liberty Road, I notice the open doors of the Natchez-Adams County Humane Society.

Thinking of a Japanese Shiba Inu, or even giving an animal a good home, I asked my friend Braxtyn Elveston if she minded if I stopped. With an anxious smirk as her response, I put on my blinker and turned left.

As I turned off my car, I took a deep breath, without a thought of what was inside.

Braxtyn and I looked at one another, unsure of what to expect. I opened my door to a smell so heinous I had to hold my nose. Bracing ourselves, we walked inside, acknowledging a woman with a smile on her face. This was about to become an emotional visit, a nightmare.

With a greeting of “Hello,” I asked about the Japanese Shiba Inu. “Is that a dog?” she responded. Taken aback by the remark, I nodded yes, and smiled, as I continued into a room of barking dogs. The smell was gradually getting worse. Along the walls were kennels, one on top of the other, each with multiple dogs living in their own filth.

As many dogs slept, others were viciously barking while some whimpered in the back of their kennels. The kennels made me feel as if these dogs were trapped. I was reminded of a jail cell.

I could tell the animals got no exercise, as some were obese. The environment these animals live in must be a traumatic one. It brings tears to my eyes to see the poor conditions these animals face as they wake up to a new day. As we continue through the room, I see kittens and cats of various breeds and sizes locked in cages, again one on top of the other.

Some were even sleeping in their litter boxes, as they may have a better chance of being cleaner that the cages.

Opening the door to walk outside to the back, I realized these dogs had it much better than the poor souls left inside. I walked cage to cage looking at the innocent canines. It was so unorganized, and I felt as if I was trying to find my way out of a maze. Many of these dogs lived in their own filth as well. Even though the dirt-covered fur and unhealthy lifestyle, I could still see the friendly, loving attitude these animals had obtained.

I slowly made my way to the other side of the cage, when my heart dropped. One dog appeared to be sick. His fur was mangled and he was losing it in patches. As he limped to the front of the cage, Braxtyn and I noticed he had some infection in his eyes. He could barely open them. I had had enough; it was time to go.

Heartbroken, I quickly walked back inside. With a “thank you,” and a smile, we were out of there fast. We headed back to my car when I spotted cages to my right. Although I probably shouldn’t have, I decided to go look. These kennels seemed to just have been thrown over in this area because there was no room inside. I looked down and there was a new litter of puppies in on of the bottom cages.

I knelt down to a puppy with a spunky attitude. He immediately came to the front of the cage, whining hello. It seemed like he was begging me to stay, to save him from this nightmare.

I stuck my finger to the cage and let him lick it. “Don’t cry little man,” was all I could manage to say. For the first time in that whole visit I began to cry. I had seen enough. It was time to leave.

Sydney Eidt is a Natchez resident who will be her junior year of high school at Mississippi School for the Arts in the fall.