2001-10-16
1:52 p.m.

It's times like these when I remember why I prefer the companionship of animals to that of humans. An animal will only strike out if it feels threatened, or if it is hungry. Animals don't murder, they survive.

Anthrax. It's not enough that people look to the skies in fear, but now, we run from out mail boxes as if they have sprouted teeth. Don't open that letter, for there is death in it's midst. Monsters. Only monsters could be so cruel. I'm just tired of it. Tired of the pain that people can so easily bestow upon others. And some people think they are so above animals.

Okay, sorry for sounding so anti-people, I am just downhearted about all that is going on in the world. I guess everyone is.

On to good news, or what I think is good. I got to glove up in a surgery yesterday. My first time. Yay. We had a dog who was in for a spay, that suddenly decided to throw up rocks. Dog..rocks..not normal. So, the spay turned into an exploritory surgery. I was working the anesthesia, when Dr. C told me she was going to need me to glove in. I was shocked, because she has always had me go get someone else, but this time, she asked me.

It was actually kind of hard, because you can't touch the outside of the glove, which actually makes it quite hard to get on. Then, I had to go in, and hold instruments up, move intestines around, hold the body wall back. Fun, fun, fun. Yes, I know I am a sick child.

Ah, but that is actually not bad considering the surgery I was in before that. A dog had a tumor on it's butt, and guess who somehow got talked into being the one to hold the dog's tail out of the way through an hour long surgery. Yep, yours truely. Half way through the surgery, little doggy decided to empty her anal sacs, and if you have never had the pleasure..you aren't missing anything. I already smelled like goat, and burnt skin (from the cautery), and I got to add the smell of anal sacs. Let me tell you how wonderful I smelled at the end of the day.

And Karima..let me tell you about Karima. Try now and convince her that she is a poor abused little puppy. She won't believe a word you say. As she chomped down on my left over steak last night, wagging her tail, her raw hide bone sitting beside her, she looked so happy. Her coat is shining, she's already putting on a little bit of weight, and she seems really happy. She runs out in the front yard with the other dogs, them chasing her, her chasing them. Then, in between that, she will run up to me, give me a quick lick, and run back to the other dogs. She still insists I stand beside her while she eats, but other than that, you would never know she had been abused. Which brings me back to the rant in the begining. She would have never been abused had it not been for the "monsters" of the human race. Grr.



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