February 11, 2004
7:59 p.m.

You ever had one of those days where you feel like you should just go back to bed and start over again? Yeah, today was one of those days.

I walked into work at seven fifteen to find a dog in his cage barely breathing. Lori pointed him out to me, and the first words out of my mouth was 'Is he dead?' About that time, he took a couple of breaths, so Lori started to clean his cage. I looked at him, and he just didn't look right, so I bent down to get a closer look. He kind of scrunched up, like he was in pain, and then got that look in his eyes, the blank stare that dead dogs have. I touched his cornea, which, on any live animal, should cause them to blink. There was nothing. In one quick movement, Lori and I were in the surgery room getting the dog on a heart monitor and oxygen. I ran and grabbed the phone to call Dr. C. She told us to give him some drugs and to start CPR. Lori and I did CPR and breathed for him for twenty minutes and never got so much as a blip on the monitor. Finally, at Dr. C's orders, we gave up. I hate being in situations like that with no doctor there, I feel so helpless. It's not that I don't know what to do, I've been in enough codes to have a basic idea, but I always wonder, did I do it right? Could I have saved the dog if I had tried a little harder, or a little longer? I know it wouldn't have made a difference, but I just don't like losing animals. The owners were devestated. No one expected the dog to die. He came in for a simple urinary blockage, but, in the end, we suspect chicken bones may have been his downfall. He either ripped a hole in his esaphogus or intestines, or that's our guess anyway.

Then, I spent another hour picking dried puss out of a horse's tail. Highlight of my day, let me tell you. I really had to strongly remind myself that I love my job.

Of course, what bad day is complete without a puppy mill breeder bring in their latest skinny, barely alive dog who has never had any bet care, that they no nothing about, in for a c-section. I HATE puppy mills. Every dog this lady has brought in is nothing but skin and bones. They are nothing but breeding machines. They are the nastiest looking dogs around, it just makes me so upset. One of our puppy mill clients has over seventy dogs, and we never see them for any type of vet care except to pull the puppies they are too weak and starved to push out. The dog made it through surgery and the puppies, all but one were fine. Even the puppy Lori accidently threw on the floor. When you deliver a puppy in a c-section you have to 'sling' it, to get the mucous out of it's lungs. Well, when they just come out they are quite slippery, and when you have them wrapped in a towel it's even harder to hold them. Well, Lori went to sling, and slung a little too hard, and we heard this splat. The puppy startd breathing then, so it was all good..right?

Then I had to go out on a call with Dr. C, which was suppsed to have me back at the clinic around four thirty...I finally left around six. I am so tired. It was just a stressful day..one I don't want to repeat.

Monday, we had this cat come in that had been in a dog fight, and the dog had bitten that cat's stomach causing it to herniate it's intestines in two places. Now, I've had cats scratch me before, and I've had cats be unhappy with whatever we were doing, but this cat was just plain evil. Just to lay it on it's back, it flipped out and ripped me to shreds. I have never been scratched this bad before. This is the kind of cat, that you look at it wrong and it's going to bite your head off. So, the cat and I already don't get along, and Dr. C decides that because we were afraid the cat would strangulate the intestines and die, we would do emergency surgery. Even druged, and half asleep, the demon spawn of satan...er, I mean that cat still tried to eat me. I have 32 scratches of varying sizes and depths. Luckily? the cat made it through surgery fine, all of her intestines were intact. I do not love that kitty though.

There is also a horse that is being boarded at the clinic that almost makes that kitty look sweet. I have never been afraid of a horse before. I mean, I've had them kick at me, and strike at me, but most of the time, they aren't trying to hurt you, they just want you to get away from them and leave them alone. The horse we have at the clinic -wants- to hurt you. It is her complete intent to do damage. She's barely a year old. She needs some manners and fast, before she gets any bigger. I opened her stall door enough to throw some hay in, and she charged at me, then turned and kicked. She charged at Cal, knocked him down and kicked him the day before. She is the first horse I have ever been truly afraid of.

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