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Friday, January 25th, 2008
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8:13 am - School Bus
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The latest stray cat to take up residence at work has acquired a nickname: School Bus. We tried giving her a more conventional name (Sweetie Pie, Cassi) but School Bus is the only name that stuck.
Why is that?
Because we believed she's pregnant. Like a school bus, she's full of kids.
When she first came in, we shaved her belly to look for a spay scar and found none. She's been ultrasounded twice, which requires shaving her belly, and no spay scar was seen.
Then out of the blue we find her spay scar. The same doctor who looked for it initially saw it yesterday. Clear as a bell. A little scar, with regular little pinpoint scars around it where the suture material wove in and out. Perfect.
So the School Bus is empty. Of kids, that is. So why does she feel like a pregnant cat when handled? Because she eats like a pig? Because the School Bus is really a Dump Truck?
We were disappointed to find this out. We wanted to play with the kittens.
Guess she's just gotta fart after all.
current mood:  good
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| Sunday, January 13th, 2008
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5:38 pm - French cuisine
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Several years ago I had a memorable dream:
I was witnessing a Frenchman in the cloudy French countryside while a narrator was discussing this man's role in French cuisine.
It seems the latest and most elegant development in French cuisine - and the most expensive - was to very tastefully prepare an exotic ingredient overlooked by chefs around the rest of the world, known commonly as human nasal mucus.
The Frenchman is introduced as the premier producer of this ingredient, as he could produce a large portion of the ingredient in a single blow.
That's all I remember about the dream. I was nonchalantly telling a co-worker about this dream as we were drawing blood from a cat in one of the exam rooms. "GROSS!" she hollered. The vet/clinic owner gave us a dirty look, as her client was in the next room. We hushed ourselves and changed the subject.
current music: Eat Static
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5:22 pm - Update on Sistaur's world
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-- I miss Mary. I only had her a month before a ferocious strain of hemorrhagic pasteurella killed her. No more bunnies for me for a while.
In fact, no more pets until I pay off the vet bill. Two senior dogs, one with cancer and one with liver issues, can get costly. At least the cat is low maintenance.
The cat.
Without Mary around, she reigns once again as Queen. No more skulking behind blankets with a wary eye out for pushy bunnies. No more competition for my lap.
-- Work continues to go well.
A very friendly stray cat came to the clinic, brought in by a client who could not keep the cat, but wants to find it a home. The cat is female, and we felt something in her abdomen. Having been homeless, the cat gorged herself when our client found her. The presence in her abdomen could be gas. Or, she could be pregnant. In time, she'll either give birth to what is sure to be an adorable litter of tiny kittens... or she'll fart.
-- The Academy Awards will soon be announcing nominations for best movie, best director, best actor, etc. This year I want to see every movie in certain categories so I can have an educated opinion about which film or which artist should be awarded. I'm not interested in EVERY category - that's far too many movies. So, I'm trying to rent or go see movies that are buzzed to be important movies of 2007, in anticipation of what will be nominated. Today I rented 3:10 TO YUMA. Maybe my mom would like it, since she loves Westerns and the leading men were quite handsome... but it depressed me. Too many bullets. Too high a body count. Maybe I can talk my brother into accompanying me to the theater to see SWEENEY TODD next weekend.
-- I have an e-mail in to HP to ask about my broken printer. I suspect it's toast, but maybe it's fixable. That would be nice.
current music: Eat Static
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| Saturday, December 22nd, 2007
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7:24 pm - More on Owies.
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Yesterday I went to work, unofficially, as it was my day off.
I had to take the Pod (aka Xena, Terrier Princess) in for an abdominal ultrasound. I'd learned earlier in the week, after running some routine bloodwork, that she has one liver enzyme that's about 9 times what the maximum value for normal is. Her ultrasound indicated that yes, something's up with her liver, but there are no tumors and the rest of her organs look fantastic. It gave her vet enough info to make a treatment plan.
So anyway, I'm at work, counting the Pod's pills, when they bring in a giant Golden Retriever type dog to remove a mass from her face, using a local anesthetic. I turn around from the pill counter to see the very hairy dog with a partially shaved face. In the middle of the shaved spot is what looks like an angry boil. Two people are already holding this nervous dog, but I think we ought to steady her face considering the vet is approaching her face with a scalpel.
"OOO, what a good doggy," I say, petting the dog's forehead and holding her cheeks. "Now be brave. The doctor's gonna take care of your boo-boo."
I stop talking.
"Good God," I admit to my co-workers, still hunkered down with this dog. "I've just gone from owies to boo-boos."
current mood: calm
current music: American Roots on MPR
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7:18 pm - My house, the clinic.
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I've recently had a spate of veterinary issues concerning my pets.
Jake, the 16+ year old Cairn terrier, has two types of cancer, bad eyes, and arthritis.
Xena, the almost-11-year-old Bedlington terrier, has something going on with her liver. Hepatitis, possibly related to something Bedlingtons unfortunately are prone to, called copper storage disease. She's taking 5 different pills for this as of yesterday.
Mary, the 10-month old lop-eared rabbit. aka Large Marge. Diagnosis: Otitis Media. What this means to her: An owie ear. No appetite. No energy. And that human keeps force feeding me weird liquids and baby food.
Purdy, the cat, is fine.
current mood: calm
current music: American Roots on MPR
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7:11 pm - Sometimes you feel like a nut...
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I came back to work after a 3-day weekend to find my co-workers had named the stray boy bunny.
I saw his name on the white board (where the names of hospitalized patients are listed in the treatment room).
"AJ"
"What does AJ stand for?" I asked a fellow vet tech.
"Hmmm. I don't remember now," she said.
So I approached the lead tech/office person. "What does AJ stand for?"
She opened her mouth as if to speak and then paused to think. "I don't recall, but I know it's something naughty."
Okay, now my curiosity was REALLY up. I went to the receptionist, who's a real bunny person.
"Almond Joy," she said.
Perfect.
current mood: calm
current music: American Roots on MPR
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| Sunday, December 16th, 2007
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6:27 pm - Stray boy bunny
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A couple weeks ago, a stray rabbit was dropped off at my clinic. He was found in a box at a car wash, spent a week at another vet clinic, and finally transferred to my clinic because we tend to see more bunnies.
Cute little bugger. He's missing half of his left ear, possibly as the result of rubber banding.
But that's not all he appeared to be missing.
"He's a one-nutter," One of the vets I worked with kept saying. "Um, I mean, he's cryptorchid." She'd add that last bit when she realized she was talking to a gentleman client.
Here's the thing about bunnies. Neutering them prevents them from spraying and becoming aggressive. BUT, during the cold winter months, they suck their testicles up into their body cavity, making the neuter procedure more complicated.
(Side note: Because rabbit testicles are like yo-yos, designed to drop down and get pulled up again at various times, they are, to use the above vet's verbiage, "squishier" than the testicles of other animals. This eases the passage in and out of the abdominal cavity. So, brilliantly, I made the analogy, out loud, to baby heads. Baby skulls have to squish out an opening, so they have to be soft, too. As I said this, one of my co-workers started turning green. That's how I found out she has a weak stomach when it comes to hearing about the birthing process. She's currently child-less.)
But back to the rabbit.
We pondered how to get his other testicle to drop.
Enter Mary, my rabbit. Or, as I've been calling her recently, Large Marge.
She's spayed. She's also twice the size of the boy bunny. But she's female. So we decided to introduce them. Get him all excited and maybe his other nut'll drop, as that one vet likes to say.
So we took some cage panels and used them to divide an exam room in half. The rabbits could touch noses but not get to each other. Unless somebody jumped the fence. Which boy bunny did with ease. With an erection the size of Texas. Heck, he could've pole-vaulted.
Mary wasn't interested, being a spayed bunny. She tolerated him until he tried, preceded by very little wooing, to mount her. She'd turn around and grunt at him and he'd try again. We separated them quickly once fur started to fly.
Boy bunny, still very wound up, was relocated to his side of the exam room. I decided to offer him a stuffed animal, a plush cat. I'm surprised he didn't bore a hole in the thing the way he went after it. By now the whole staff was peeking in on the excitement.
"Oh my god," somebody said.
"He's so FAST," somebody said.
"I guess it's natural," somebody said.
"Ew, Ann, what're you doing?"
I was pressing a microscope slide up against a moist portion of the stuffed cat after boy bunny was through with it.
"I just wanna see if he left any sperm," I said. (Nope, just epithelial cells.)
The stuffed cat went into the laundry. Large Marge went back to her kennel, where she wouldn't be disturbed. Boy bunny lay sprawled out in the exam room, exhausted.
Still a one-nutter.
"I guess Large Marge was just a whole lotta woman for him," I said.
We neutered him on Thursday. The second, smaller testicle was found easily and also removed.
This bunny doesn't have a name. The aforementioned vet, despite having such a way with words, is not very creative in naming animals and she kept calling him "Stumpy" because of his abbreviated ear. I suggested "Wax" because of his car wash origin or even "Volkswagen." "Casanova" is the name that seems to be sticking at this point. We'll see.
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| Thursday, November 29th, 2007
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10:40 am - The Cat's grand plan
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Monday I was at work all day, so the Cat had time to plot against the Bunny. I got home, let the Bunny out, and saw the Cat's scheme in action.
Bunny is in the living room, innocently chewing on her hay. Cat is in the kitchen, and tears into the living room to leap onto the back of the couch, where she has a good view of Bunny. I watched the cat pose, crouched, for about a full minute. She was poised, focusing on that munching Bunny. Her back end quivered as she was getting just the right moment to pounce. Finally...
Cat decides at the last minute that Bunny's a bit intimidating, lands two feet short of Bunny, and hauls ass back into the kitchen.
Bunny continues chewing.
So much for the grand plan.
current mood: calm
current music: MPR
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| Sunday, November 25th, 2007
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7:15 pm - Mary the Rabbit
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It's hard to believe the new bunny hasn't caused any trouble yet.
The closest she came was when she was under the kitchen table this afternoon. I was standing next to the table so I didn't see it happen. I just heard a scrambling noise, followed immediately by the cat running out from under the table with a really ticked off expression. The bunny was simultaneously three feet to the left and in now my sight, a tiny tuft of her fur lying on the floor in front of her.
I don't know what happened, but I'd say she can hold her own with the cat.
Mary:1 Purdy:0
current mood: content
current music: Dr. Who soundtrack
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| Sunday, November 18th, 2007
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7:31 pm - New Bunny
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I got a new bunny yesterday. Mary. She’s enormous, about 10 pounds. This rivals the cat.
She grunted in her cage when the Humane Society guy was reaching for her to try to get her out. She grunted a few times. I thought for a while that they’d given me a pot-bellied pig instead of a rabbit.
Today, Mary’s first full day at my house, she hasn’t grunted. She’s been out exploring. She doesn’t hesitate to approach me or the cat or the dogs – that’s a good sign. She’s also been in every room in the house, including the kitchen. It took Wanda Wabbit weeks to venture into the kitchen! Mary’s also a bit sleeker than Wanda. Wanda had about twice as much skin as she really needed, making her the Shar Pei of bunnies. Mary’s skin is tighter, but she’s got ears that drag on the floor. She’s the Basset Hound of bunnies.
I’m glad that bunnies are relatively inexpensive pets, compared to dogs. Mary’s adoption fee alone was only 10% of the fee for some of the dogs at the Humane Society. Plus, they don’t need the heartworm meds, vaccines, and obedience classes that dogs need. She’s already been fixed and has no major health issues (detected so far), and her first vet exam is free per the Humane Society. I’ve already got all the bunny infrastructure in my house left over from Wanda, so Mary’s really a cheap pet.
I won’t get another dog for a while. Jake has two kinds of cancer and the addition of another dog would not only be expensive, it will upset the pack structure and I don’t want to do that to Jake or Xena.
current mood: happy
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| Sunday, November 11th, 2007
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7:06 pm - Owies
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We use the term "lesion" to refer to an interruption in the skin that shouldn't be there. A lesion can be a cut, wart, pimple, scrape, skin tag, cyst, abscess, wound, etc. So, a client might call us up to make an appointment to check their dog's skin. When this happens, we expect to see some variety of lesion. In this profession, we get used to using the term without thinking about how the average person might perceive that word.
Not long ago, a new client came with a small dog who had sores on her neck. Upon doing the intake part of the exam with the client and her dog, I told her that I'd ask her a few routine questions and then we'd start to investigate those lesions.
"Oh!" said the client, alarmed. "I hope they're not LESIONS!" Her eyes were wide and I think she may have even put her hand to her chest as she said this.
For the rest of the exam, I had to use the word "owies" because I was afraid the client would panic if I said "lesions" again.
Turns out the dog's owies were a mild skin infection that cleared up easily with antibiotics.
current mood: content
current music: Dr. Who soundtrack
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4:45 pm - Catching up
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Whew. It's been a while since I've put an entry in here.
Not that nothing's been going on!!
A snapshot of this very moment today:
Xena is rubbing her face against the hide-a-bed to my left. I just removed her elizabethan collar (those cone or lampshade type collars dogs have to wear so they don't lick or scratch at their owies. More on the subject of "owies" later.)
Background:
About two weeks ago I found a marble-sized mass on Xena's face. The vet (my employer) stuck a needle in it and squirted the cells out onto a microscope slide. Scary discovery: cells they could not identify. So, I had them surgically remove the mass. She only needed a local anesthetic.
While this procedure was taking place, I holed away in the vets' office to work on records. I didn't want Xena to see me while they were working on her. Then I heard my fellow tech yell these words:
"That was NOT COOL, Xena!"
I started laughing and snuck over to the treatment room, hoping to be unseen, to see what my dog had done. The surgery was complete and, as is typically done afterward, they'd sprayed the area of the incision with some hydrogen peroxide. This takes the blood out of the fur. Xena had shaken her head, flicking bloody hydrogen peroxide everywhere, including my co-worker's face.
Days later, the lab sent its analysis of the mass. My nervous eyes scanned it too quickly for me to absorb much more than the beautiful word "BENIGN" and something to the effect that all the mass was is a hair follicle gone bad.
current mood: calm
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| Friday, April 13th, 2007
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12:04 pm - Update on food sensitivities.
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About a year ago, I got tested for food sensitivities because I felt run down all the time. My nose ran a lot, I got headaches, and I'd feel compelled to take 3 hours naps at least daily. The list of foods I was told to avoid was this:
-- Wheat
-- Dairy
-- Cantaloupe
-- Zucchini
-- Peaches
-- Pineapple
Recently, I felt many of the same symptoms return. I also had a couple bouts of food poisoning. So, I got re-tested this morning. Some items on the above list are safe for me to eat again, as long as I don't go overboard, but other things - big items - have been added to the list. Here is the current list of my "NO" foods:
-- Wheat
-- Dairy (but I am allowed SMALL amounts of goat dairy)
-- Eggs
-- Potato
-- Tomato
-- Barley
I'm glad I at least still get to eat corn, soy, and peanut products. I'm suspicious of "modified food starch" however, because where did this starch originate, in potatoes maybe?
In less than a week I'll be traveling to Florida for eight days. I'm going to pack my own food to take with me. I don't want to take any chances while I'm out of town. Eating out in restaurants now feels like a pretty hopeless endeavor.
--sigh--
current mood:  hungry
current music: Cardinal singing outside
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| Sunday, December 17th, 2006
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12:40 pm - Hole in the ice
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I figured there was trouble as soon as I saw it: A large, person-sized hole in the iced over pond. A purple rope of some kind was lying on the bank near the hole. All was quiet.
This pond lies on the block to the north of mine. It's basically a pond to help drain water from the properties nearby. It takes up about half the space of a city block, and there are wild grasses and trees planted around it. A sidewalk goes around it, making a great place to give the dogs a short walk. The pond is relatively new - it was only finished about a year ago and I've been walking the dogs around it all summer. It's a nice, natural kind of setting that gives the neighborhood kids a place to play.
But I don't think city kids know so much about safety on the ice.
As I rounded the turn to the little trail that leads to the pond (and to the purple rope and the hole in the ice), a woman passed by.
"Did you hear what happened yesterday?" she asked.
"No," I said, glancing quizzically back at the pond.
"A little 14-year old boy died when he fell through the ice." And she continued her walk.
My fears confirmed, I started to reel in the dogs so I could walk down to the pond and pay my respects. A blue pickup parked across the street and a 40-ish man came out, walked towards the pond, with a serious face.
"My nephew fell into the ice here yesterday," he said, "But he's gonna be fine." The man looked at the hole, which was just a few yards into the pond.
"You wouldn't think it's that deep," he said. "The kid's taller than I am and he said he couldn't touch bottom." The man was, I'm guessing, 5'9". "A woman went in after him and held him up," he said.
"I'm glad he's gonna be fine," I said. "Tell him I'm thinking about him."
"Thanks." And we each continued on our ways.
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| Sunday, December 3rd, 2006
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8:04 pm - Update on general stuff.
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This is just a general update on things.
SPRAINED ANKLE: It isn't any better. When I put weight on my left foot, it feels like pins and needles. When I put weight on my left heal, it's really sore and achy. I am under instructions to wear the brace 24/7. If I don't keep my foot elevated, it begins to feel heavy and painful. It's almost like I can feel my precious bodily fluids flowing down into it trying to make it swell. So I try to keep it elevated. I have an appointment with the orthopedic people tomorrow. I'll know more then.
KITTEN TRAPPING: This project is on hiatus for now. There are just too many cats at the Humane Society, so the likelihood of anything I catch being euthanized is pretty high. We're still trying to find a home or homes for the feline leukemia - positive cats at the clinic. Yesterday I heard a cat in heat yowling as it walked past the house. I foresee more kittens in the future.
CONTINUING EDUCATION: My employers plan to send me to Florida for some certification classes in January. However, if my ankle isn't going to get better soon, my ability to move around will be compromised, and my ability to learn will be not 100% because of the chronic pain. Worst case, my attendance at such classes will get postponed.
HOUSE SITTING: I've got a house sitting / dog sitting gig next weekend for a very good client with two Labrador Retrievers. This I can do even if the ortho people put my ankle in a cast. The dogs are easy to handle and have ortho issues of their own, so I won't have to go on walks with them.
READING: Since I can't do housework or yard work, I spent a lot of time prostrate on account of my ankle. I've been reading some of the many books I inherited from Grandma this summer. I've been reading a Wisconsin author, Victoria Houston, who writes murder mysteries centered around people who fish in a small (fictitious) Wisconsin town near where I grew up. I feel inspired. Perhaps I could write mysteries involving vet techs. Expect some of that to be gross, though. I can't talk about my work very much when I visit my folks because it inevitably leads to stories about feces, wounds, intestinal parasites, or euthanasia. I don't think my folks really want to hear about those things. The cat testicle story I told at Easter generated more of a cringe than a laugh.
current mood: awake
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| Monday, November 13th, 2006
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7:52 pm - Sprained ankle. OUCH!
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Last night I was going to the basement and I misjudged where the last step was. I sprained my left ankle. I have to wear a splint and use crutches now for the better part of the next two weeks.
current mood: depressed
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| Sunday, September 24th, 2006
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10:50 am - Quilting
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I am learning how to quilt now. I've been wanting to do this for a long time. I practiced a few squares, and now I am ready for my first big (but simple) project.
I am so excited!
current mood:  energetic
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10:46 am - The Sneak
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There is a Sneak stealing bait out of the trap.
I once watched a dark tabby cat walk into the trap, turn around and peak out of it, and then go back into the trap and eat the bait, and then leave. Later that night, I caught a dark tabby cat in the trap but I'm not sure it was the same one.
There have been a couple sightings of Gabrielle (aka Mama Cat) in the alley very close to my house. I hope that she is the Sneak, and that she is frequenting the trap. If it is her, I'm hoping it's just a matter of time before she sets the trap off one of these days. I want to catch her!
current mood: energetic
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| Thursday, September 14th, 2006
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9:02 pm - Kitten Project, part Nine
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Minnie went to her new home today.
I haven't caught any more kittens since North. He is the fourth kitten caught, a 6 or 7 month old intact male with a couple teeth knocked loose. He tested positive for feline leukemia, which will make him hard to place.
Jordan, the first kitten caught, is healed from her bite wounds and is a real purr monster. She's an imp, and she needs a home to run around in!
Logan, the third kitten caught, is slowly but surely coming out of her shell. She likes to be held and she purrs loudly. She is starting to play.
The last two creatures I caught were a feisty adult male whom I took to the Humane Society, and a raccoon. I made the mistake of (from a distance)letting Xena see me release the raccoon from the live trap. To her, it was a big, stripy-tailed KITTY. Now she thinks the live trap is a kitty dispenser and she wants to check it out all the time.
- Sigh - Minnie went home today. We're going to miss her at the clinic.
current mood: relaxed
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| Monday, September 4th, 2006
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12:37 pm - Kitten Project, part Eight
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I caught Kitten #3 on Saturday. I am calling her Logan. Like Jordan and Minnie, she is scared and wants to bolt out of her cage. She's also full of fleas. I dewormed and deflea'd her immediately upon settling her into her cage, and her fleas are dying off. She lets me hold her and I have faith that she'll soon relax and purr like her sisters. I think she appreciates the warm, dry cage, clean blankets, fresh water, good food, and flea-free fur.
Now, there's at least one more kitten out there. We just had a rain storm and now that it's cleared, #4 should be out and foraging for food. My trap is baited and waiting...
current mood: content
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