There are six of them in a carry cage. They can barely breathe; the snuffling noses and rattling chests are audible from across the table. They’re so small, too small for me to see a vein. It will have to be straight into the heart. I pick one out. It's too weak to struggle. Its heart is fluttering wildly. I line up the needle and pass it between the ribs. The kitten twitches as the needle passes through the skin. I falter. I miss the heart. I pull out. My hands are shaking. Deep breath. Try again. I miss a second time. Poor kitten, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. The kitten is starting to wriggle now. I close my eyes. Oh kitten, I don't want to do this, it's not fair.
No. No. Shut off the emotion. That's it. Focus on the procedure. Do it right. Do it perfect. Focus. Hands are steady now. There are the landmarks. Put your needle right there. Do it fast. Inject. Feel the heart stop. Good job. Well done. The next one is instant. Keep them coming. I'm good at this, see? The nurse passes me the last kitten. This one is the liveliest of the bunch. It looks at me with huge, bewildered eyes. "I don't know, either," I whisper. "I just don't."
I gather the little bodies and wrap them in a towel. The lady from the RSPCA informs me that I should expect another batch this afternoon. I go back into my consult room. Wash the table. Wash my hands. Look in the one way mirror on the wall and fix my hair. There's a consult waiting. You should see them. Come on, drag yourself away from the mirror. Dry the table. Dry your hands. Dry your eyes.
Deep breath. A smile creeps across my face. I feel it reach my eyes. I call them in. The smile reaches my voice. These owners have a kitten fresh from the pet shop. I teach them how to feed it and treat it for fleas and worms. We laugh and make small talk as I vaccinate the kitten. On her way out the owner thanks me. "You must have so much fun," she says, smiling. "Playing with animals all day." I say nothing, just smile back. My mind still filled with those big bewildered eyes.
No. No. Shut off the emotion. That's it. Focus on the procedure. Do it right. Do it perfect. Focus. Hands are steady now. There are the landmarks. Put your needle right there. Do it fast. Inject. Feel the heart stop. Good job. Well done. The next one is instant. Keep them coming. I'm good at this, see? The nurse passes me the last kitten. This one is the liveliest of the bunch. It looks at me with huge, bewildered eyes. "I don't know, either," I whisper. "I just don't."
I gather the little bodies and wrap them in a towel. The lady from the RSPCA informs me that I should expect another batch this afternoon. I go back into my consult room. Wash the table. Wash my hands. Look in the one way mirror on the wall and fix my hair. There's a consult waiting. You should see them. Come on, drag yourself away from the mirror. Dry the table. Dry your hands. Dry your eyes.
Deep breath. A smile creeps across my face. I feel it reach my eyes. I call them in. The smile reaches my voice. These owners have a kitten fresh from the pet shop. I teach them how to feed it and treat it for fleas and worms. We laugh and make small talk as I vaccinate the kitten. On her way out the owner thanks me. "You must have so much fun," she says, smiling. "Playing with animals all day." I say nothing, just smile back. My mind still filled with those big bewildered eyes.
That's tough. When I was a kid on my uncle's farm a stray gave birth to some kittens in one of the barns. I played with one for a while before my uncle took them away and broke their skulls. My cats at home are all rescue cats and it breaks my heart knowing that while people are buying kittens from breeders that churn them out for profit other cats are being abandoned, left in rescue homes and being put down. It's not fair. You have a lot of fortitude to get through that, I got really emotional just reading this.
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