Smashing Pumpkins (I love doing that!)
It was 11am on a Saturday and I found myself standing in the necropsy room of the vet hospital in my green scrubs, my black ballet flats (of sheep pee fame), a plastic apron, and some latex gloves.
I had a dead mouse in my hands and I was trying with all my might to break its neck. Finally, with a crackle and pop (where's snap?), I felt the head dislocate from the neck vertebrae. I bent the lifeless head back and forth to make sure that I'd severed the spinal cord and everything. It flopped around.
Still not convinced, i took my scalpel and sliced open the back of the neck. Sure enough, I'd done a thorough job of it.
I picked up another dead mouse and did the same thing. Then moved onto the dead chicken in front of me.
I was participating in the cervical dislocation lab being held by the pathology and animal welfare club. I'd spent all morning learning about how to "do the job and do it right" and was now getting some hands-on experience.
We learned about the carbon dioxide (I remember Lynda telling me about her sister's lab where they have to kill the rats that way), the guillotine, the good-ole lethal injections, microwave impulses (you attach electrodes to the rat's brain and nuke it to death), bolt guns, guns, squeezing them to death (apparently they used to kill small birds that way in the field for scientific collection), the macerator (100% effective and practically instantaneous) and pithing (they did that to the frogs we used in our physiology lab and apparently one of them jumped off the table afterwards).
I have to say that euthanasia is one of the crumbiest parts of being a vet in one sense, yet in another, it makes our lives so much easier than that of our human medical counterparts.
If someone comes in with a terminally ill dog with multiple-antibiotic resistant bacteria flowing out of, we can always say to the owner, "Do you want a dog, or this dog?"
Doesn't quite work that way when the parents come in with their sick kid carrying MRSA. "Do you want a kid, or this kid?"
Yeah. Not so much.
So, my thoughts filled with death, I got home from my lab, popped two advil cold and sinuses and collapsed in bed for a much-needed nap. I woke up three hours later to a cold-wet nose on my forehead which then migrated over to my left ear where something then began LICKING my earlobe. I woke up with a start. Lola feline spawn of Lucifer was sitting on my head and purring like crazy.
My roomies, Lola's real owners, are in Brooks this weekend for a wedding and as a result, I was the sole guardian of the kitten for two full days. So not cool.
"GERROFFME!" I mumbled into her fur and tried desperately to unlatch her from my face.
I tossed her to the ground and glanced at my alarm clock. It was 6:30pm. I was supposed to be at a potluck at 6:00pm. "BLEEEEEEEEP!" I shouted, threw on some clothes and darted upstairs to start cooking. Lola did everything she could to slow me down including locking herself in the fridge somehow and then sitting in my freshly cleaned wok. She also chewed through the garbage bag and started spreading all the burnt noodles I'd just tossed into there all around the kitchen floor.
I threw her into the living room and tried to make her play with her toys but she kept coming back and getting into everything. Eventually, I just gave up and locked her in the cupboard with the pots and pans.
Finally, my food all ready and in the requisite potluck casserole dish, I put on my jacket and got ready to leave the house. It was 7:15pm. At the last minute, I realised I forgot to do my hair and ran into the upstairs bathroom to check that it wasn't sticking out funny or anything.
I ran into the bathroom and threw on the lights. And that's when I heard it. A giant "SPLOOOSH!" I glanced over at the toilet where a frantic Lola was skittering around in the toilet bowl, drenched head to toe. She must have been doing her usual I'm-going-to-perch-precariously-on-the-toilet-and-stare-into-it thing and I must have startled her with the lights, making her lose her balance and dive into it headfirst.
"LOLA! NO!" I shouted but it was too late. Like a little frog, she shot right out of the toilet and darted out of the bathroom, straight into the living room where she did a few laps before plunging under the couch, out of my reach. Puddles of toilet water were left in her wake all over hte living room floor. A wad of toilet paper was still in the toilet and who knew when the last time was that the thing was flushed?
I frantically tried to clean up and tried to lure her out from under the couch so I could wipe her down but there was nothing at all, NOTHING that would convince her to get out from under the couch. I glanced at the clock. It was 7:30pm.
"SCREW THIS! I'M LEAVING!" I shouted and left.
The potluck was fun and there were only three guys there. The usual 10:1 woman to men ratio seen in vet school. Most of the time, we sat there and gabbed about the usual vet student stuff: animals, poorly endowed ex-boyfriends (I abstained from that particular conversation), chocolate, body piercing and fashion. People were oogling over my Alexander McQueen knock-off skulls and crossbones scarf and I was oogling over all their yummy cakes that they brought.
Some one even brought pie, which, I am sad to say I ate a lot of. You'd think I woudln't touch pies even with a ten foot pole anymore but you'd be wrong.
So that was my Saturday. Today I am basically rotting at home, regretting over-exerting myself the day before and popping advil sinus/cold like candy.
I am procrastinating from doing my pharmacology paper still, hence the blogging. I also decided that it was high time I did something I've always wanted to do but never had to guts to . . .
SMASH PUMPKINS!
Tell me you have not ALWAYS wanted to do that? I mean, I love the band and all but the real thing is so much more compelling. So yeah. I took my roomies halloween jack-o-lanterns, brought em out back and smashed them with my foot and a piece of wood. I even took pictures of my escapades (as if my neighbors didn't think I was crazy enough, they had to witness me smashing a pumpkin and taking photos of it).
Meanwhile, Lola started attacking my shoes as soon as I got in the house so I took some photos of her too. Bloody possessed cat.
And that's it from me for now kids.
Hooray for killing stuff humanely, hooray for pie, and hooray for smashing pumpkins!
-Viv
PS: Lola just jumped on my keyboard and farted. YUCK!
I had a dead mouse in my hands and I was trying with all my might to break its neck. Finally, with a crackle and pop (where's snap?), I felt the head dislocate from the neck vertebrae. I bent the lifeless head back and forth to make sure that I'd severed the spinal cord and everything. It flopped around.
Still not convinced, i took my scalpel and sliced open the back of the neck. Sure enough, I'd done a thorough job of it.
I picked up another dead mouse and did the same thing. Then moved onto the dead chicken in front of me.
I was participating in the cervical dislocation lab being held by the pathology and animal welfare club. I'd spent all morning learning about how to "do the job and do it right" and was now getting some hands-on experience.
We learned about the carbon dioxide (I remember Lynda telling me about her sister's lab where they have to kill the rats that way), the guillotine, the good-ole lethal injections, microwave impulses (you attach electrodes to the rat's brain and nuke it to death), bolt guns, guns, squeezing them to death (apparently they used to kill small birds that way in the field for scientific collection), the macerator (100% effective and practically instantaneous) and pithing (they did that to the frogs we used in our physiology lab and apparently one of them jumped off the table afterwards).
I have to say that euthanasia is one of the crumbiest parts of being a vet in one sense, yet in another, it makes our lives so much easier than that of our human medical counterparts.
If someone comes in with a terminally ill dog with multiple-antibiotic resistant bacteria flowing out of, we can always say to the owner, "Do you want a dog, or this dog?"
Doesn't quite work that way when the parents come in with their sick kid carrying MRSA. "Do you want a kid, or this kid?"
Yeah. Not so much.
So, my thoughts filled with death, I got home from my lab, popped two advil cold and sinuses and collapsed in bed for a much-needed nap. I woke up three hours later to a cold-wet nose on my forehead which then migrated over to my left ear where something then began LICKING my earlobe. I woke up with a start. Lola feline spawn of Lucifer was sitting on my head and purring like crazy.
My roomies, Lola's real owners, are in Brooks this weekend for a wedding and as a result, I was the sole guardian of the kitten for two full days. So not cool.
"GERROFFME!" I mumbled into her fur and tried desperately to unlatch her from my face.
I tossed her to the ground and glanced at my alarm clock. It was 6:30pm. I was supposed to be at a potluck at 6:00pm. "BLEEEEEEEEP!" I shouted, threw on some clothes and darted upstairs to start cooking. Lola did everything she could to slow me down including locking herself in the fridge somehow and then sitting in my freshly cleaned wok. She also chewed through the garbage bag and started spreading all the burnt noodles I'd just tossed into there all around the kitchen floor.
I threw her into the living room and tried to make her play with her toys but she kept coming back and getting into everything. Eventually, I just gave up and locked her in the cupboard with the pots and pans.
Finally, my food all ready and in the requisite potluck casserole dish, I put on my jacket and got ready to leave the house. It was 7:15pm. At the last minute, I realised I forgot to do my hair and ran into the upstairs bathroom to check that it wasn't sticking out funny or anything.
I ran into the bathroom and threw on the lights. And that's when I heard it. A giant "SPLOOOSH!" I glanced over at the toilet where a frantic Lola was skittering around in the toilet bowl, drenched head to toe. She must have been doing her usual I'm-going-to-perch-precariously-on-the-toilet-and-stare-into-it thing and I must have startled her with the lights, making her lose her balance and dive into it headfirst.
"LOLA! NO!" I shouted but it was too late. Like a little frog, she shot right out of the toilet and darted out of the bathroom, straight into the living room where she did a few laps before plunging under the couch, out of my reach. Puddles of toilet water were left in her wake all over hte living room floor. A wad of toilet paper was still in the toilet and who knew when the last time was that the thing was flushed?
I frantically tried to clean up and tried to lure her out from under the couch so I could wipe her down but there was nothing at all, NOTHING that would convince her to get out from under the couch. I glanced at the clock. It was 7:30pm.
"SCREW THIS! I'M LEAVING!" I shouted and left.
The potluck was fun and there were only three guys there. The usual 10:1 woman to men ratio seen in vet school. Most of the time, we sat there and gabbed about the usual vet student stuff: animals, poorly endowed ex-boyfriends (I abstained from that particular conversation), chocolate, body piercing and fashion. People were oogling over my Alexander McQueen knock-off skulls and crossbones scarf and I was oogling over all their yummy cakes that they brought.
Some one even brought pie, which, I am sad to say I ate a lot of. You'd think I woudln't touch pies even with a ten foot pole anymore but you'd be wrong.
So that was my Saturday. Today I am basically rotting at home, regretting over-exerting myself the day before and popping advil sinus/cold like candy.
I am procrastinating from doing my pharmacology paper still, hence the blogging. I also decided that it was high time I did something I've always wanted to do but never had to guts to . . .
SMASH PUMPKINS!
Tell me you have not ALWAYS wanted to do that? I mean, I love the band and all but the real thing is so much more compelling. So yeah. I took my roomies halloween jack-o-lanterns, brought em out back and smashed them with my foot and a piece of wood. I even took pictures of my escapades (as if my neighbors didn't think I was crazy enough, they had to witness me smashing a pumpkin and taking photos of it).
Meanwhile, Lola started attacking my shoes as soon as I got in the house so I took some photos of her too. Bloody possessed cat.
And that's it from me for now kids.
Hooray for killing stuff humanely, hooray for pie, and hooray for smashing pumpkins!
-Viv
PS: Lola just jumped on my keyboard and farted. YUCK!
posted by Viv at 2:25 p.m.
2 Comments:
Poor pumpkin! I love how you had to include the 'before' picture of it. It was soooo cute and innocent...it will be missed.
Poor Lola, getting pushed into the toilet bowl. That's right, you pushed her, I see through your viel of smoke and mirrors. It's funny that you removed the candle before smashing, wouldn't want to ruin a perfectly fine candle.
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