"Diarrhea is one of the great forces of nature and should be respected and feared."
The longest thing you have no time to read:
The day began, sitting on the treatment room floor before we were quite open, playing a new song on an old guitar. A friend walked in with tears in her eyes and the sad tale of their family cat, loved most in the world by a 15yo girl, who found the missing kitty dead and gone under the couch like in a nightmare. We hugged and talked about the heartbreak of it and I arranged for cremation and clay paw prints. The pendulum swung back with back to back puppies, then with no notice, my old friend Fenris the attack dog, arrived in the lobby, lunging at me barking, teeth bared, in what I discovered years ago is a display of affection, just like my I’ll tempered grandpa (it’s how they show their love). His owner drops the leash and he’s on me, sniffing my ear nuzzling me with his nose. There was a time back when he and i first met, years ago, that I fully expected to die the second that leash fell. But now, years later, we’re buddies, and he’s old as the hills, mostly blind and muscle wasted. He and his owner are strongly bonded and over the weekend when Fenris seized, and fell to the ground, he thought he might have lost him. The bad news is, physical exam found a testicle the size of an ostrich egg, no doubt a cancer, and the good news is the survey X-rays were clean without metastasis and we’re scheduled for surgery tomorrow (going in like the cavalry to rid the world of the evil testicle). Keep your fingers crossed for the cranky old guy, I love him. Oh, I almost forgot to mention that Fenris had projectile diarrhea all over the lobby and our hero receptionists Hannah and Megan cleaned the whole thing up. The smell would have knocked you over if you’d been there. Diarrhea is one of the great forces of nature and should be respected and feared.
Then a pup in with a broken leg that’s nearly healed and another with a mysterious laceration on the leg and a trio of dogs for exams prior to dental cleanings and the most maniac of a dog I may have ever met but in the best possible way. He’s a 75lbs Dalmatian with superhuman strength and speed, like a cartoon come to life and given amphetamines. I sat on the floor and closed my eyes and he was on me like a hurricane. Thankfully he just wanted to forcefully make out and there was no threat of violence.
At lunch I walked to that tree over the river by the graffiti and read a book and there was the sound of fish rising and traffic and there were king fisher birds and cheap cigar wrappers (people who smoke cheap cigars by the river are more likely to litter than people who read books by the river).
The afternoon was skin infections and puppy shots and old friends in and out with all kinds of news and stories and troubles and joys.
It’s not what you might think, being a vet. it’s not the puppies that make you happy, it’s the often times sad stories of the people and pets that really need your help.. there is a difference between joy and happiness (thanks Sarah hill). ok, Big surgeries early tomorrow! Happy Monday!