I took the dog and both cats to get shots today. It was less traumatic than I expected. Meaning, of course, that I only required a few stitches and two units of packed cells after trying to get the cats into the carriers. I don't approve of declawing (Because it's the equivalent of trying to keep your fingernails from growing by clipping the fingers off at the first joint. Barbaric.), but sometimes I regret not having done it. On the bright side, the cats yowling on the way there DID drown out my five year old son's constant mindless chatter. Does the kid ever inhale?
My mother-in-law belongs to a sorority that sponsors the shot clinic we go to, so it wasn't our regular vet tonight. No problem, this guy is a good vet, and as a paramedic, I have an instant rapport with veterinarians. If you think about it, we have very similar jobs, so vets are probably the medical professionals EMS providers have the most in common with. After all, we both frequently have to diagnose a patient that just can't tell us what's wrong. So, we start poking and prodding, and when the patient either yelps or tries to bite us, we treat that area. I have also often felt I was working with an entirely different species out on the street. It's hard to fully explain it to someone that hasn't been out there for a fairly long period of time, but let's just say that to most paramedics, Darwin's theories do, in fact, remain wholly unproven. (OK, I'll concede the point that Darwin did NOT actually promote survival of the fittest as the basis of evolution. Most biologists will tell you that survival of the most adaptable is why we aren't still swinging from the trees.)
Animals are also very forgiving of people that try to help them. Our dog acted like nothing had happened after her shot, and was ready to play as soon as we got home. The cats? Well, they were acting like cats. The best any human can hope for is tolerance from a cat. That's part of why I like cats. Our younger cat, Pepper, was just a kitten when I found her under a bush in front of our old house. I thought she was the neighbor's cat, but they told me she wasn't when they got home for work. So that was us with a second cat. We took her in, cleaned her up, fed her, had the vet check her out, and generally kept her from either starving or freezing to death. Do that for a puppy, and you have a friend for life. A cat, on the other hand? To this day, Pepper looks at me like I'm an idiot every time I speak to her. But that's OK. I can respect anyone that will accept my charity, then turn right around and despise me for doing it. I appreciate the honesty.
We do have a lot in common with veterinarians. We have difficult, noncommunicative patients, we get clawed, scratched, and bitten regularly, and the most common gratitude we get from our patients is to be treated as if we're invisible as soon as the problem is fixed. Yet we keep doing it. Because it's all worth it to see a family taking every single member home at the end of the day. I can live with that.
Stay crazy, my friends.
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