This has been a summer remarkably free of veterinary medicine. I believe I had planned to be more enthused about inflicting my presence on local veterinarians, but between driving home every other day, gardening, and the trying to write on a daily basis, I've been remarkably busy. It takes about three hours of procrastination for me to get around to one hour of writing. This is an improvement over it taking three days to achieve the same level of frantic "must-write-NOW". At some point, I may achieve two hours of writing at a time. And that will be about the time school starts, at which point busyness truly descends with a vengeance.
In the meantime--I inadvertently talked my fiance into getting a greyhound. Not YET, but presumably we'll be picking a dog-friendly apartment for next year. I think it's Pye's fault. Pye is one of my dogs, very old but only recently starting to act like it (something about megaesophagus and retching all the time...). We adopted him when I was in middle school. He wasn't a mellow dog then, but the intervening years really reduced the running off/playbiting/barking all night. He now has just about enough energy to wander up and gaze imploringly at you. My fiance, who has never had dogs or cats, is a complete sucker for this sort of canine manipulation. And I may have mentioned, one time when I was trying to explain greyhound dispositions (from what I've seen--I admit I don't have a ton of experience with them), that they do this same sort of imploring gaze.
I'm hoping that adopting a greyhound goes smoother than adopting Pye went. I remember the local Humane Society, which I previously had considered a Good and Intelligent institution, really didn't want to let us adopt a dog from them. The problem? We live on a farm. The dog would be on a farm. The dog would be outside on the farm. Apparently, it is anathema to the humane society's mission to let any dog spend nights outside the warmth and protection of a house. If the dog came from a farm? Well, then it would be okay--unless the dog had become an indoor dog since its days on a farm. All dogs at the humane society are housed indoors. Ergo, all dogs from the humane society are indoor dogs. I think they finally let us have Pye because he had already come through the humane society twice (both times because he had way too much energy for living in a house), and they were getting desperate.
Talking with other people from farms (often vet students), this is pretty common. It doesn't matter how qualified the potential owner might be, the humane society would rather euthanize dogs than adopt them out to farms. Do they think the dogs are going to be unhappy on the farm? Do they envision horrible accidents involving combines? Do they think all outdoor dogs are abused dogs?
That said, greyhounds would not make good farm dogs. From what I know, they are capable of a little too much speed with not enough discretion for wire fences.
Showing posts with label dogs. Show all posts
Showing posts with label dogs. Show all posts
Saturday, July 31, 2010
Saturday, August 16, 2008
Letter to a Fourth Year
Dear Vet Student Self:
In a few years, you will start your final year of school, and with that will come rotations. You will be one of those blue-garbed, stethoscope-carrying people of authority. It will probably be very cool and utterly exhausting, and your brain will be so full of medical miscellany that the fact you can still walk in a straight line will amaze us all. Actually, walking in a straight line may be a bit of a stretch, but we can always hope.
In any case, you won't be in any condition to remember the poor, downtrodden kennel workers. This letter is to remind you of the things that us downtrodden kennel workers would like all fourth year students to do while they're garnering clinic experience.
1. Thou shalt mark it on the cage card when thou hast fed thy caseload.
2. Thou shalt arrive early enough to take your patient out before he hath an accident.
Double-plus bonus: we can clean while you walk him, and we don't have to clean as much. And the kennels won't smell like dog poo. We're talking 7 am here.
3. Thou shalt give thy patient enough blankets, but not too many (three is good).
If thou bringest in thy own dog for days in a row, leave a card saying "save" and maybe clean that kennel on your own time. It's not that we mind the pets, it's just...there's sometimes a lot of kennels to clean.
4. Thou shalt clean up after exceptionally messy patients (optional).
This one just makes the kennel crew like you.
5. Thou shalt explain thy patient's bizarre health conditions to the curious kennel workers.
Half of us are pre-vets. We LIKE gory detail. Oo, and you knowing who we are is also cool.
6. Thou shalt occasionally thank the kennel crew for their hard work.
It's not usually all that hard, but it is messy and smelly and necessary.
Other things come to mind, such as
the nice people in CCU who consolidate the overnight garbage from all the bins;
picking up the poo from your patient out on dogwalk;
noting that you the student will feed a dog that needs special handfeeding;
piling the bags of soiled laundry along the wall, rather than in the mop room doorway.
But those are little things. The main things are getting here early enough to take the dog on a walk before its bladder fails, and marking whether you have fed (or will feed) your patient.
On behalf of kennel workers, thank you! And (when you get there) enjoy your last year of vet school!
Sincerely,
Your kennel worker self.
In a few years, you will start your final year of school, and with that will come rotations. You will be one of those blue-garbed, stethoscope-carrying people of authority. It will probably be very cool and utterly exhausting, and your brain will be so full of medical miscellany that the fact you can still walk in a straight line will amaze us all. Actually, walking in a straight line may be a bit of a stretch, but we can always hope.
In any case, you won't be in any condition to remember the poor, downtrodden kennel workers. This letter is to remind you of the things that us downtrodden kennel workers would like all fourth year students to do while they're garnering clinic experience.
1. Thou shalt mark it on the cage card when thou hast fed thy caseload.
We don't mind feeding the dogs in the morning (it makes them like us, after all), but we'd rather not have you pop in two minutes later, gasp, and say "But I already fed him, and if he eats any more his colon will explode!"
2. Thou shalt arrive early enough to take your patient out before he hath an accident.
Double-plus bonus: we can clean while you walk him, and we don't have to clean as much. And the kennels won't smell like dog poo. We're talking 7 am here.
3. Thou shalt give thy patient enough blankets, but not too many (three is good).
If thou bringest in thy own dog for days in a row, leave a card saying "save" and maybe clean that kennel on your own time. It's not that we mind the pets, it's just...there's sometimes a lot of kennels to clean.
4. Thou shalt clean up after exceptionally messy patients (optional).
This one just makes the kennel crew like you.
5. Thou shalt explain thy patient's bizarre health conditions to the curious kennel workers.
Half of us are pre-vets. We LIKE gory detail. Oo, and you knowing who we are is also cool.
6. Thou shalt occasionally thank the kennel crew for their hard work.
It's not usually all that hard, but it is messy and smelly and necessary.
Other things come to mind, such as
the nice people in CCU who consolidate the overnight garbage from all the bins;
picking up the poo from your patient out on dogwalk;
noting that you the student will feed a dog that needs special handfeeding;
piling the bags of soiled laundry along the wall, rather than in the mop room doorway.
But those are little things. The main things are getting here early enough to take the dog on a walk before its bladder fails, and marking whether you have fed (or will feed) your patient.
On behalf of kennel workers, thank you! And (when you get there) enjoy your last year of vet school!
Sincerely,
Your kennel worker self.
Tuesday, August 5, 2008
Leisure days
Switching back and forth between work and home has been...unenviable. After about a day at home, I hate to leave. The farm is quiet, expansive, everything is growing--the garden needs some more weeding--and I like knowing what the weather is just by taking two steps out the door. In town, houses and roads break the great outdoors into tiny bits. Even once I go outside, it's still like peering through a keyhole.
And then I spend a day in town, and coming home to collapsed sheds and weeds and cows just scraping by on our scant pasture is depressing as all get out. So. I start school in two and a half weeks, which will spell the end of all my current lifestyle quandaries. I'll have new ones instead! Like, are my boyfriend and I actually compatible in the same apartment? And will I be around enough for it to matter?
I worked out an allocation of my hours for a typical week. Start with 168 hours in a week. Take out 56 for sleeping (8 hours a night) and 50 for the time I'm in classes or labs. That leaves me with 62 hours. Going with the 2-5 hours study time per 1 hour class time (class, no labs, equals about 25 hours a week), means that I need to spend a minimum of 50 hours a week studying. There's not enough time in the week for a higher average than 2.5 hours per class. Scary. As it is, I maybe get an hour a day to eat, travel, exercise, and maintain cordial relations with Mr. Roommate. And maybe an extra hour off on Saturday for good behavior. I know--I'll go grocery shopping!
Needless to say, my real schedule will be far more chaotic and haphazard. But I am looking forward to it, even while I'm fully appreciating my current leisure.
I'm gonna miss my dog, I know. I wish I could take him to school with me, but this is out of the question because: 1. He is a psychotic border collie with no house training. And 2. My apartment doesn't let me keep dogs anyway. Too bad in some ways--according to past vet students, pets are great for studying anatomy on a live animal. Ah, well. Perhaps I can schedule in regular visits to home if I count them as study time for anatomy.
But currently on the schedule: leisure time, so long as "leisure" includes things like weeding the squash, yelling at the dogs when they transgress the garden boundaries, moving fences, moving cows, cleaning kennels, and, this afternoon, shopping for school supplies with my mom! And eating equal quantities of watermelon and zucchini brownies. And cherry tomatoes. Nothing in the world is quite as awesome as fresh garden tomatoes. They're like steak with seeds. Juicy, savory, a little sweet.
I can hear the chickens squawking. Probably time to go yell at the dogs again. The sheer number of chicks seems to have bewildered them out of catching any, but they still try.
Hmm, can't hear the hawk today, though. There's a young hawk living in one of the oaks, who likes to fly the air currents and yells the whole time. From dawn to dark, you can hear him: "Eee! Eee! Mom, lookitme, I'm flying!"
And then I spend a day in town, and coming home to collapsed sheds and weeds and cows just scraping by on our scant pasture is depressing as all get out. So. I start school in two and a half weeks, which will spell the end of all my current lifestyle quandaries. I'll have new ones instead! Like, are my boyfriend and I actually compatible in the same apartment? And will I be around enough for it to matter?
I worked out an allocation of my hours for a typical week. Start with 168 hours in a week. Take out 56 for sleeping (8 hours a night) and 50 for the time I'm in classes or labs. That leaves me with 62 hours. Going with the 2-5 hours study time per 1 hour class time (class, no labs, equals about 25 hours a week), means that I need to spend a minimum of 50 hours a week studying. There's not enough time in the week for a higher average than 2.5 hours per class. Scary. As it is, I maybe get an hour a day to eat, travel, exercise, and maintain cordial relations with Mr. Roommate. And maybe an extra hour off on Saturday for good behavior. I know--I'll go grocery shopping!
Needless to say, my real schedule will be far more chaotic and haphazard. But I am looking forward to it, even while I'm fully appreciating my current leisure.
I'm gonna miss my dog, I know. I wish I could take him to school with me, but this is out of the question because: 1. He is a psychotic border collie with no house training. And 2. My apartment doesn't let me keep dogs anyway. Too bad in some ways--according to past vet students, pets are great for studying anatomy on a live animal. Ah, well. Perhaps I can schedule in regular visits to home if I count them as study time for anatomy.
But currently on the schedule: leisure time, so long as "leisure" includes things like weeding the squash, yelling at the dogs when they transgress the garden boundaries, moving fences, moving cows, cleaning kennels, and, this afternoon, shopping for school supplies with my mom! And eating equal quantities of watermelon and zucchini brownies. And cherry tomatoes. Nothing in the world is quite as awesome as fresh garden tomatoes. They're like steak with seeds. Juicy, savory, a little sweet.
I can hear the chickens squawking. Probably time to go yell at the dogs again. The sheer number of chicks seems to have bewildered them out of catching any, but they still try.
Hmm, can't hear the hawk today, though. There's a young hawk living in one of the oaks, who likes to fly the air currents and yells the whole time. From dawn to dark, you can hear him: "Eee! Eee! Mom, lookitme, I'm flying!"
Monday, August 4, 2008
When lambs calve, and other oddities
Vet school starts in two and a half weeks, and I've entered the giddy contemplation stage. Attendant to this is a compulsion to read blogs by vet students, and once I did that there was nothing for it but I must have one for my own. Yes! I too shall blog. Consistently, even, maybe. Though let's not be hasty. Let us remember what happened to the food blog (three entries total).
But anyway. The cows are out in the pasture where they're supposed to be, the calves are more or less on the right side of the fence with the cows. The dogs are hassling the chickens again. I have had to rethink my stance on broody hens. I hate tossing a mound of eggs out when I have no clue how close to hatching they are...but as a result we have a serious infestation of chicks. Thirty? Forty? Even Danny's getting tired of chasing them, and he's an obsessive compulsive Border Collie! Every now and then I hear a squawk from outside and have to run out, scream "DANNY!!" and wait until he bounces into view and sees me: "What?!"
But anyway. The cows are out in the pasture where they're supposed to be, the calves are more or less on the right side of the fence with the cows. The dogs are hassling the chickens again. I have had to rethink my stance on broody hens. I hate tossing a mound of eggs out when I have no clue how close to hatching they are...but as a result we have a serious infestation of chicks. Thirty? Forty? Even Danny's getting tired of chasing them, and he's an obsessive compulsive Border Collie! Every now and then I hear a squawk from outside and have to run out, scream "DANNY!!" and wait until he bounces into view and sees me: "What?!"
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