Anyone that's ever worked for any amount of time knows what it means to have One of THOSE Days. The clients are assholes difficult and uncooperative, all the vicious dogs and cats suddenly have become ill, you're short-staffed and there's a bazillion surgeries to get done with only one doctor present and accounted for. You run through the hospital in a panic, on the verge of screaming your only question: "WHERE IS DOCTOR HUSBAND?!" because he has suddenly disappeared into the bowels of the great blackhole that is the attic. Your LVT grabs you and says you have to help her "tank" - use gas anesthesia to sedate a cat in a fish tank with a special lid - the dental cat because Kitty Magic didn't have any effect. Dental Cat turns out to be a feral buzz-saw that is soon on the loose and is absolutely pissed that you dared to touch him. And, of course, the owner shows up to watch the dental right as you're snagging the cat into the nabber - a specially designed net/jaws of life contraption specifically for the eternally P.O.'ed feline - and saying something like, "Gotchya, you little fu-...Oh, oh hi!" The owner is politely escorted back to the lobby because she doesn't want to watch the sedation, and Luci-Fur is dumped into the tank and gassed with iso...only, the tank is cracked on the bottom and no one noticed until someone said, "...Does anyone else smell isoflurane?"
And that's just your morning to start with.
Finally Dr. Husband is located - he was trapped behind a five-bin-high stack of archived x-rays - and brings with him - TAH-DAH! - the other tank that is not broken. Finally, something went right. But...wait, the lid doesn't fit this tank! Oh well, it'll work as long as someone holds it down firmly. Three surgeries later, appointments start, and all seems to be going well until the lady with the man-eating maltese comes in and lets her run loose through the hospital. This is the dog that EVERYONE is afraid of, even the owner. This is the dog that you have to tease with a leash for it to jump in the air, drool dripping jaws snapping at said leash for someone - with welding gloves on, mind - to grab her in mid-air and burrito her in a blanket; and that's just to get a muzzle on the mutt. Fifteen minutes later, she's cornered and our technician has managed to get a hold of her without ending up with missing chunks of flesh (this woman definitely needs a raise). Even better was the last appointment of the day, where an owner was - unfortunately - told that due to the type of cancer their ancient pom-mix has that it's best to not buy a large bag of dog food...maybe not even a medium size bag.
It's days like this when I enjoy coming home, snuggling up with my puppies - hoping the cat will join, but she rarely does - and being very thankful for having good dogs. (I say dogs, because my cat is vicious when she's at the clinic despite all my efforts to make her chill out and be as sweet there as she is at home. However, there's only so much you can do for cats in that area) I'm sure I'm not the only one who feels this way, but it's always nice to have a renewed appreciation for your furry pals. =]
