swingchickie | doctor do-very-little

on a night like this, i am reminded of why i chose not to go to veterinary school.

i ended up in the ER with both kitties, again. it was a funny turn of events -- i came home from a loooong day at work (i was at my first call at 7am, and didn't get home until after 5) wanting to snuggle with the kitties and fall asleep in front of the tv, but i was halted at the door to my building by a memo from the management office. the memo said that this friday, they were going to do random apartment inspections in the building from 10am-2pm, to get the building appraised. which completely sucketh, because technically no-one in the building is supposed to have pets (we all do)... so i was going to have to eighty-six the cats for the day, in case my apartment was one of the ones chosen.

i tried to figure out what to do... i could take the day off, and just drive around with the cats in my car for 4 hours, which seemed stupid... i don't trust the ex to have them at his place... my friend S would be home, but she has 2 skittish cats of her own, plus with this impending snowstorm i didn't know how i'd find street parking near her to go over. the cat sitter is too far for just a day, and the kitties got too worked up the last time they were there. so... that left boarding them at angell memorial hospital, the huge 24-hour animal hospital that i spent many a late night at last year. just as i picked up the phone to call and make a boarding appointment, i looked out of the corner of my eye... and saw cat barf. a big, clear, watery puddle of it, meaning that the barfing had been going on all day. dammit. through some special cat-mommy deductive reasoning, i figured out it was monkey, and then i called the hospital to figure out what to do. the guy i spoke to was so helpful and nice... he squeezed me in at 6:15, so that angus could get his pre-board physical, and then i would get monkey seen on an emergency basis while i was there... then both of them would stay at the hospital until friday afternoon, when the coast was clear at the homestead. so i threw on a pair of jeans, urged the fuzzy babies into their carriers, and headed off to angell memorial.

i love and hate animal hospitals. i love them because all the animals are so cute, and the owners all so friendly... there's something about being around other pet owners that makes everyone instant best friends. people that could ride 40 floors in an elevator together in complete silence, were sitting in the waiting room chatting about squeaky toys and pet foods. but i get so sad looking at all the cats and dogs, knowing that underneath all the cuteness is a bunch of animals who don't feel well and want their owners to make everything all better.

it was like someone advertised "big dog night at angell". i've never seen so many humongous dogs in one room! there were several great danes, a bunch of golden retrievers, and even a massive 200-pound saint bernard that lolled around on the floor, begging for tummy scratches. there was a token teeny dog, a fat little pomeranian with a big limp and an even bigger gag reflex... it walked all around the big dogs, sniffing them and going *ack!* after each one. and there was a beautiful whippet with his very handsome, very friendly, and very married (i checked for a ring) owner... the dog was a sweetie, but then barked and snapped like hell every time a dog entered the room... and all the owner did was smile and explain the behavior away to all of us, instead of reprimanding the darn dog. harrumph.

the cats' exams were a hoot... they were actually going on at the same time in adjoining rooms, so i ran back and forth to answer questions and hold shaking kitties for each vet. poor monkey was so upset, she buried her face in my chest and clung to me for dear life. and now monkey and angus are sleeping in cages over there for the next 2 days. angus checked out fine, and monkey might need bowel surgery (conservative estimate for her: $1200 *faint*). but as i waited for my final paperwork before i could go home, i was once again reminded of why i love and hate animal hospitals:

sitting next to me on the bench was a lesbian couple and their 20-month old daughter. the little one was very well-behaved, she looked around at everyone and grinned. but when their dog, cody, was brought out, her face lit up with pure joy. here was this 150-pound massive golden retriever, a huge mound of muscle and fur... and the little girl went toddling over in that off-balance way that 2-year olds do, and threw her teeny arms around her doggie and said, "i miss you, codeeeee!" no lie, my eyes welled up with tears as i watched her hug the hell out of a dog 4 times her size, and the dog just loved it. it's one of the sweetest, purest moments i've ever witnessed.

but as this family was reunited with their dog, a gurney came whizzing through the ER doors. on the table was a big yellow dog, unconscious... it wasn't bleeding, but it didn't look good at all. and as it rounded the corner towards an exam room, a pack of vets and assistants appeared, sprinting after it. only a few minutes later, the dog's owner, a girl in her 20s, walked out of the room, tears streaming down her face, and out the front door. i knew the look on her face -- it was the look i wore 6 years ago, the day i had to decide to put my little Moo to sleep, when she had been acting fine just a couple of days before. it was a look of shock and helplessness, and my heart broke for her. i cried on the way home, from seeing her anguish and from my memories of losing my own little loved one. and i'm sad that the kitties aren't here, because i really really really want to hug them right now.

there's no way i could ever be a vet. i couldn't deal with it.