The dog out the back keeps walking around in circles until its legs get tangled in its lead and it falls over. This would be funny if it wasn't so irritating.

FFS DOG! HAVE YOU NEVER WATCHED THE BATTLE OF HOTH?!!

What the hell am I even doing here? What kind of stupidity made me want to be a vet- to work my arse off for the rest of my life for little to no pay, trying to do absolutely everything "on-the-cheap" without doing anything wrong, or neglecting patient care because everyone is "on the pension" with 15 dogs at home, can't afford medication, actively refuse to follow my instructions, then blame me when things go wrong, threaten to take their buisness elsewhere (I wish they would), and then show up the next day with the next three dogs, and the new puppy they just addopted, because after all, you can't afford the 6 kids and 15 dogs you already have, so why not get another one?

Owner (O): "my dog isn't eating!"
Dr Chance (DC): "For how long? It looks normal- Has it had any diarrhoea or vomitting? Could it have eaten a toy?"
O: "No, none of that... it's been a few weeks now... it's not eating it's dinner!"
DC: "Really?! It doesn't look like it's losing weight..."
O: "No, it's gaining weight... that's what I'm worried about... I don't know... there must be something wrong with it..."
DC:"Oh, ok... does it behave normally?"
O: "Yes, yes... but it doesn't eat its dinner."
DC:"At all?"
O: "Well, it eats a bit... and usually finishes it, but it doesn't gulp it down like it used to..."
DC:"How often do you feed it?"
O: "only once a day"
DC:"Well, that's quite unusual, what- may I ask- do you feed it?"
O: "just dry food"
DC:"That is the staple of the diet... hmm... do you give it anything else?"
O: "Well, it gets a beef bone- not a marrow bone, because I heard they can be fattening."
DC:"That's true... though once a week shouldn't put the dog off it's dinner..."
O: "No, once a day... and it also gets a beef heart and two chicken necks."
DC:"A week?"
O: "A day. Should I cut that back a little?"

Often, if given enough time, the questions start to answer themselves.

"No, I don't want to socialise it, or desex it. I want it to be a guard dog. So, I'm training it to bite and hate everything. The last one I got wasn't nasty enough, so this time I got a larger breed, with a lower aggression threshold as a really young puppy, just so I could make sure that I f*cked it in the head as much as possible."

Sometimes (and believe me, my co-workers are usually celebrating at this point), I'm just lost for words. Or at least words longer than four-letters.

//serendipity

I take a back step and look at myself in the mirror. A vet really shouldn't be cheering the illness on. Sometimes I end up feeling like an ambulance-chasing blood-sucker - hoping for the worst even as the hope fades from the client's eyes.

Whenever an interesting surgery or procedure pops up, it's hard to be neutral; give the percentages, the costs and the prognoses, in a level voice when you just want to try the myelogram, the splenectomy, the liver lobectomy, the thoracotomy or amputation. You can't very well say "I REALLY want to try this" when you know the prognosis isn't very good and the owner can't or won't pay for it.

Even so, I can consign myself to always hoping for the correct diagnosis, regardless of whether it is interesting or banal. Rather than hoping for the rare and wonderful and (often) euthanasia-inducing diseases, I have changed to hoping for the quick and accurate diagnosis. Rather than "Dr. Gregory House"-ing it, I find myself looking back retrospectively and saying: Contemporary knowledge taken in consideration, could I have possibly reached the diagnosis any sooner? Or with less tests?
I have found in recent times that this is always very satisfying.

Yes: your dog may have cancer, but at least we found it for less than $200 of tests, rather than you spending $500 trial-treating the non-pathognomonic symptoms.

Sometimes doing a blood test, hoping for some sort of a change, or just to eliminate a disease can seem like a waste of time. But that one time out of ten, you can end up saving a lot of heartache and suffering.

There's nothing more satisfying than serendipity. And Serendipity only comes when you've already put in the hard yards.

First aggressive client, refused to muzzle his dog.
O:"Fine, I'll just go then, find another vet."
Me:"If you want. Bye."

And now I don't get bitten! Score.

Owner: My dog keeps licking its 'girly bits'...
Me: hmm... everything looks fine, and the vulva looks normal, speyed dog... history not UTI, hmm... wait a minute... there was that one arthritic dog with impacted anal glands that licked its vulva... this one isn't arthritic, but...
Anal Glands: Hello, I'm gigantic! (paraphrased)
Me: Ah, so it looks like it's just a problem with the anal glands *explaining* Does she scoot at all?
Owner: Oh! Now that you mention it... she does; but I wormed her so I thought it was just from her hard poos.
Me: Yeah, well it's the anal glands, quite simple to treat... and reduce the weight... we don't want to get arthritis, do we?

1.04: Serendipity

On a dreary afternoon, a client saunters into the waiting room with their boxer leaping about their legs like a dervish, brandishing his bright crimson bandage like his namesake in a championship prizefight.

With a sharp intake of breath, the bandage is cut away- the Owner looks in shocked silence before exclaiming, "Wow! It's all healed so well! Thank you sooo much."

I can't help but grin as I wave off the praise, "Ah, no- don't mention it, I'm just glad it all turned out so well."
"I'm sure you are just being modest," they retort, and I shoot them a knowing look, like there's a secret only the two of us will share. And as they leave the clinic, a grin from ear to ear, I'm left wondering when things actually started going right...

10-14 days earlier:
"CRAP CRAP CRAP CRAP CRAP... Please stop bleeding! Please stop bleeding! CRAP... Goddamn suture material, blunt needle- I swear, if you don't stay straight in my needle holders, I'm going to kill you and all of your needle-children... Can I please get more swabs? *squirt* Can I please get A LOT more swabs? uhhh, Oh... shivers, this isn't good... Um, cautery? Is there cautery? Please tell me there's cautery! Great... now... how does this work again?!"

Since graduation, I've held one vet's words in my mind constantly:
"It doesn't matter how well or poorly you do a surgery, you're only ever judged on the skin sutures."

Pet Peeve: When a client decides to decline your own "strong recommendations" and then still yells at you when things go wrong.
Only Solution: Smile somberly, apologise profusely and then punch a hole in the wall out back.
Note: Don't ACTUALLY punch a hole in the wall

After a walk-in euthanasia for "I just found it like this", i.e. agonal gasping and howling in pain while being unable to move, as well as looking (and smelling) like death warmed up- the client calls back to ask:

OWNER: So, do you have any idea as to what could have caused it?
(What I wanted to say): Well, it's hard to say without a blood screen and post-mortem, but I think it might have something to do with the mammary tumour on its belly that weighs as much as the dog does.

Sometimes you feel like you're putting down the wrong thing.

"Get the hell out of my consult room! I'm sick to death of you coming in here and telling me what is wrong with your animal and asking for drugs. I'm not a bloody pharmacy. I'm here to tell you what is wrong with your animal, I'm here to help you and give you advice, so if you're not willing to listen to me, I'm just wasting my goddamn breath. I'm not paid to listen to little stories about how cute your kittty is when it chases its tail, or that your dog is REALLY good at killing possums, while there are five people in the waiting room with sick animals. If you want to talk over the top of me, then you can go and talk to a brick wall, for all I care. If you don't want to here a word I say, then you get GTFO and we'll both be happier for it!"

There are some times in this job that you get angry, and behind your kind smile and interested expression, an entirely different monologue is going on. And you keep telling yourself "next time." "Next time these people come in, I'll say something..." but you never do.

Don't worry that I've just done the best f-ing surgery in the entire world for the dog that you brought in with no appointment and a slash to the leg. Don't worry that I dodged blood vessels and nerves to fix a wound that would make most people faint. And how does it look? Perfect. And how does it work? Perfectly. And what scar will be left? None at all. And the fact that I only charged you for 10 minutes of surgery even though it took me 20?

Because really- is any of that as important as the fact that the cost is $100 more than quoted (including $90 of medications, which aren't included in the quote). And that when the nurse says the "Quote", a quote is different from an "Estimate."

(Don't worry that the form you signed specifically says "Estimate" and the words "The actual cost may be more, this is just an estimate.")

FML

Hmm...
"I'm sorry"?? No, I'm not really, sorry... I'm glad I could help you through this time of distress.
"It's a pleasure"?? No, not really. But I do it anyway.
"This is the worst part of my job."?? No, it's not. It's one of the most positive contributions we can make. An injection which is a permanent cure for everything! Medicine specialists eat your heart out.
"You're doing the right thing." Sometimes you aren't, but it's worth saying anyway. Maybe it should be "you aren't doing anything wrong." But I'm sure it's no consolation.
"It's the last nice thing you can do for them." Poor consolation I know, when the guilt eats away at you in the middle of the night.
"Try to remember the good times, not the bad." And I feel like some goddamn Hallmark card.
"They're in a better place" would be a whole lot easier if I were religious.
"I understand how you feel." And at the same time I will never understand how you feel.
My mouth opens and closes, nothing comes out. The wall of professionalism stands between us and I can't break through. As I look into your eyes with the syringe in my hand, I find myself thinking all these phrases, weighing each one and then thinking, quite selfishly,
"Start crying, damn it. It's always easier when you cry."

Admission for desexing.
Owner: Oh god! She's not going to die, is she?
Me: It's ok. There is a slight risk with every anaesthetic, but your dog is young and healthy, and there's no more risk than if you were to go under.
Owner: So it's not going to die?
Me: That is certainly a possible complication, however we take all steps to minimise that possibility
Owner: But it's still possible?! You won't let it die will you? Please tell me it won't die!
Me: Listen; I don't come in to work in the morning with the intention of killing animals.
Owner: Oh... Okay.

Moral- Some people need you to be a little more heavy-handed to get their confidence

The smile melts from my face as my hand reaches for the doorhandle. "Come in," I say.

A regalement of trials and tribulations, lost loves and heartache. Pain and suffering and awaiting swift embrace of death. "Don't blame yourself," I find myself saying, lying, "You did nothing wrong."

"It all happens so quickly, in the blink of an eye." I always think about the suffering of the poor animal, as it sits on the consult-room table, waiting for the angel-of-death- I'll be there soon enough. But just one more minute will not be so bad, your pain will be over soon; your owners' pain is just beginning.

The greatest cruelty of death is that it ends your pain, only to leave your loved ones behind to deal with it. It's a cruel thing for a person to have to do, to kill another creature. But I wouldn't trade it for anything. I watch them sink to the stainless steel, and the tears roll down the cheeks. "...My condolences."

My hand touches the warmed handle of the consult room door as they leave the body behind.

The door swings open again, a benevolent smile breaking across my face. "So how's kitten been going?" I say to the six-year-old clutching her new best friend with eyes as honest and naive as her own. "Just here for the first vaccination?"

Please note, that in general- walk-in (without appointment) euthanasias are generally a bad idea.

What's the real difference between two cases? The owners. One day I had highlighted this for me. I had a moderately unwell looking dog with cancer. It wasn't its usual self and it was losing weight and so the owner decided it was the kindest thing to put him to sleep. I agreed, chatted for a while about how good a dog he used to be, put a catheter in and then he passed away quickly and painlessly. He went back home to be buried and the owner was nearly in tears, despite his gruff exterior.

Later that day, I had a woman come in with a dog that had severe cancer, was barely breathing and couldn't stand up properly. She didn't want treatment, or for it to be removed (which had been offered a while ago, when the chance of success was still high). She was worried that the yelping in pain overnight would disturb the neighbours, so she over-medicated it with a human drug, which meant I had no options for pain releif. She was not interested in euthanasia, she only wanted to know if there was something else I could do, and just to check whether her medication choice was justified. There was nothing I could do. As she left, she said "Well, this was a waste of time" to which I smiled sweetly and replied "Yeah, I'm sorry about that."

VETERINARIANS, SOLDIERS & EXECUTIONERS: The only professions where killing something isn't an accident.

A CHANCE TO RANT #1

I've spent longer at university than I care to remember, owing tens of thousands of dollars to the government while all my friends are buying shiny new cars and getting drunk and then writing off those cars and then buying newer, shinier ones.

I've been up long into the night with a colicky horse, or a stomach torsion and then been up and chipper for morning rounds, while attempting to look like I'm not an idiot. Which I must admit is pretty hard with a perfect outline of my watch permanantly imprinted into my forehead.

I've read countless textbooks too heavy to even carry and piles of notes that make the books look like instruction manuals for your new waffle machine. Step one: open machine, Step two: put in waffle mix, Step three close and turn on, step four: open later and consume the waffle and repeat steps 1-4. Doesn't really require instructions, now does it?

I have an in-depth understanding of absolutely everything that goes on in an animal from the Krebs cycle all the way to the creation of proteins and development from a foetus. That's right, if I wanted and had the necessary tools, I could probably build an animal from the ground up like a mechanic on a car. Maybe not a dog, but I reckon I could make a perfectly good newt if given enough time.

I have experienced what it is like to have less sleep than a mother with a newborn and still managed to sneak in four hours of cartoons. And they weren't even good cartoons either, but I watched them anyway, just because I could.

I've held a dying being in my hand and kept it alive long enough to fix it.

I probably know more about your animal than you do... in fact, I probably know your animal better than you know... well, anything. Not that that's anything to be proud of, trust me, you do NOT want to know more about ANYTHING than I do about animals.

I don't want to sound arrogant, but really, what I'm getting at is-
I AM A VETERINARIAN, GODDAMN IT!

So the next time I drop something, or trip over... I will be the one to decide if it's funny.

Sing for the fallen

Oh blinding pain and I can't feel my paws
Hit by a car as they rushed for the stores
It was agony all night, and all through the day
"Wanted to see how it went" was all they could say

In a building of stone, 3 deep in cages
Meowing at the vets who take us in stages
Quick jab in the heart and the noises will fade
Thank heavens our destiny's already been made

In a cold, windy morning, 10 deep downwind
No wool on our backs, may well have been skinned
The shelter is there, not ten feet ahead
but the barbed wire cuts, as I'm pushed by the dead

My splint jars at an angle "I've fixed it" he said
"If I hadn't I'd rather shoot the bitch in the head"
"She's no good for showing, and her pups are too small"
I just lick at my wounds and curl up in a ball

"Never done this before", she said when I bit
The kid down the street when my tether had split
Never seen a kid, ever! Or a dog, not a soul
Except for my owner when he refilled my bowl

But none of that matters, it's dusted and done
But many will follow, the battle's not won
So sing for the fallen, as loud as you can
For all those who died for the actions of man