Good-bye, Bosley. Hello, Boslyn.

This post is going to jump around a bit because day two of my internship was rather uneventful, but....

I hung out with some of these guys again!

And marmosets are always fun if you can get past their fruity pee smell. It's pretty rank.

I also took Bosley to the vet today to (finally) be neutered. I'm really not looking forward to picking him up in the morning because I know his hatred for me is going to amplified by about a million. He's probably waking up from anesthesia right now, plotting the best way to murder me in his doped-up haze. I guess I'll be sleeping with one eye open for a while.

Bosley, before testicle amputation. Don't worry, I'll provide an "after", too. I think I'll start calling him "Boslyn"...

And finally, I received an incredibly late Christmas present last night, but it's okay that it's so late because its awesomeness makes up for it.

Yep, that's a dog carrier. It doesn't look like one, which is partially why it's so awesome (comes in handy when you sneak your dog to class on occasion), but it's just nice and roomy and convenient. I love it. Especially since both of my dogs will fit in it at the same time (with some cramping).

Otto loves it, too. I can't leave it open on the ground without him climbing in and refusing to get out. He's such a weirdo.

Stay tuned for some baby animal posts later this week (but maybe not the baby animals you would expect....).

First day of my internship at the zoo!

Disappointing stuff first: the majority of my day was spent doing paperwork. The vet wasn't there for most of the day, so there wasn't a ton of stuff to do. So that was kinda lame, but the things I did get to do totally made up for it...

First, I got to help (sorta) with taking care of a Geoffroy's marmoset that wasn't eating well. Not super exciting.

But look how cute they are! (I didn't get any pictures of my own because I'm not sure if they want me to post them on the internet, but I'll ask next week.)

Then I got to hang out with some giant tortoises. One started coming at me at full tortoise throttle, and I seriously thought it was going to run over me. It had its neck stretched out and its mouth open, and it was terrifying (the thing was the size of a smart car... almost.. ish). I quickly jumped the heck out of its way. Turns out, it just wanted me to scratch its neck. :/

This is not a perspective trick. That's really how big they are. (Sorry random person whose picture I borrowed..)

Then I met two adorable red foxes, but you guys know what those look like. They were adorable, but very, very smelly.

And finally..... I got to catch/hold a Barn Owl and a Great Horned Owl. It was awesome.

They are so pretty. I wanted to steal the one I met today (not really... well.. kinda).

These guys look a little grumpier.. they are normally more aggressive than the barns, but the guy I worked with today was too weak to fight me much. :(

The zoo's hospital does raptor rehabilitation, and these guys were brought in today (not the ones in the pictures, but they basically look the same.. just less healthy in the great horned owl's case). The barn owl was completely blind, and someone found it on the side of a road. I'm not sure about the great horned owl. He seemed to be kinda old and was super skinny and weak.

The vet tech I was working with was like, "Normally I make people watch me catch one first, but you've had other animal experience, so I trust you." It was a little sudden, but I wasn't going to complain. She explained the best way to catch them, and off I went.

I struggled a little with the barn owl. Aside from his blindness, he was in really good shape, and he clamped onto my arm like he wanted to eat it. He also bit me (no damage done, though; I was wearing those super protective falconryish gloves). The great horned owl was super easy to handle, though, which is not a good thing.

I've never gotten to work with birds of prey like this, but I've always wanted to. I felt like Harry Potter. It was an awesome experience. And now I'm going to be WAY more disappointed if I don't get into vet school because I know that the vet school has a raptor rehab program, too.

Just a few more months... April, please be good to me.

That time I accidently drugged myself...

One day I was assisting with an ear laceration surgery on a dog (note: this is not the same thing as ear cropping.. this is a more medically necessary surgery to repair damage). My job was to hold the dog's ear and the gas mask (since we couldn't tie it around his head like we normally would), so naturally, my face was pretty close to the dog's face.

Everything was going fine, but then I started sweating profusely. Then I got really, really cold. Then I was overcome with dizziness. Then I thought I was going to throw up all over the surgery table. I had to get out of there.

I asked to be excused (one of the techs took over for me) and ran straight to the bathroom. Amazingly, I didn't vomit. I probably should have, but god, I hate vomiting. I'll hold it in as long as I possibly can. After my stomach calmed down a bit, I stumbled over to one of the waiting room benches. Then everything went dark.

I woke up a few minutes later, my brain still really foggy and my entire body drenched from sweat. One of the techs asked me if I was okay. I said I was, but I mean, they just watched me pass out on the bench so I'm pretty sure they saw straight through that one. I tried to stand up, but I was still a bit too dizzy for that. It was a good two hours before I started to feel normal again.

Later that day, the vet asked me what happened. I had no idea. It couldn't have been the blood. That has never bothered me in the slightest. And I didn't think I was sick because I would still be feeling bad, wouldn't I? Then the vet said, "Well, you had your face pretty close to that gas mask. I bet you were breathing in the anesthesia."

And yes, that was exactly what happened. So yeah.. breathing in drugs that are not meant for you is a very bad idea with very unpleasant consequences. That lesson has been learned.

The fetotomy of a lifetime..

I don't really get grossed out by things. Not animal things, anyway. Occasionally, though, something might get to me a little bit. Usually it's a horrible smell of some sort. This story is about one such smell that will be forever engraved in my memory.

I was job shadowing at a large animal clinic one day, and a guy brings in a donkey (not a small donkey either.. a bigger-than-a-normal-horse donkey). The owner wanted the vet to do a pregnancy check. The vet attempted to stick her hand in there and feel around, but something was blocking the birth canal. And you know, it's the birth canal, so that usually means there is a baby. And there was.. oh, there was.

The vet tried to maneuver the foal around so we could pull it out (because it was very obviously stuck), and as she spread apart that poor donkey's vagina, a god awful smell emitted from the depths of the creature's reproductive tract. Imagine the sticky, sweet smell of blood combined with sweaty underwear combined with rotting flesh combined with horrible diarrhea, and you can kind of get an idea of what it smelled like (except it was worse than that.. much, much worse). I was holding the donkey's tail to the side, and every single waft of that smell hit me directly in the face. I thought I was going to pass out, and it got worse the longer the vet had her hand in there. We knew then that the baby had been dead in there for quite some time.

The vet's maneuvering attempts weren't getting us anywhere, so we began one of the most horrific (and kinda cool) procedures I have ever assisted with: a fetotomy. Basically, that baby wasn't budging. It was a huge baby to begin with (probably overdo when the mom went into labor), but it was also bloated and super slippery (the fur was just falling off of it). There was no way we could get that thing out in one piece. So we cut it up...

The vet wrapped a wire around the babies neck (while it was still lodged in the birth canal), and we threaded the wire through a pipe (to prevent burns from heat caused by friction) and started pulling back and forth. I got to do the honors, and it was pretty hard work. I mean, you're basically sawing through bone with a wire, and it takes a bit of force. It was also kinda hard because blood kept squirting at me from the end of the pipe, and things were getting slippery. Finally, though, I got through the head. I was completely out of breath, but I felt quite accomplished.

This is kinda what it should have looked like.

For the next 2 hours, we pulled that baby donkey out piece-by-piece (it was so rotted that it was falling apart at almost every joint). At the end, we probably had a dead baby donkey pile of around 10-15 pieces. It was pretty sick. And oh my god, the smell.

What it really looked like.. except it wasn't a calf, and it was in a LOT more pieces. It also looked more decomposed, and the skin/hair from almost every limb was completely pulled off. I wish I would have taken a picture, but there were a lot of people standing around.. it would've been weird.

We were all really relieved and ready to go home, but then the vet gave the mom donkey another dose of a sedative to help calm her down so she could recover, and for whatever reason, that second dose caused the donkey to start seizing (yeah, just imagine a huge donkey just flopping over to start seizing on the ground in front of you.. pretty scary). Eventually she stopped, but she looked horrible. I hated to see her in so much pain. That had to have been one of the most traumatizing things any animal could go through. I had to leave after that, so I never knew how much longer she had to endure, but I know that she didn't survive.

It's really sad. We did all we could to at least give her a chance at life, but going into it, we knew she probably wouldn't live much longer. It makes me wonder if putting her through all that pain was worth the slim survival rate. Just another medical, moral dilemma, I suppose.

My foxy friends...

I've been sick. Like, entire head/face/neck throbbing sick. So I didn't feel much like writing, but now I'm better (almost.. better enough to write again).

So the camp I worked at (and will probably be working at again this summer... I kinda randomly just decided that today) has an arctic fox. I love her. We were great friends. Until I kept having to scruff her and hold her down for her shots. And then I had to catch her to take her in to get her spayed. And then I had to scruff her again when it was time to take her stitches out (she actually bit me that time.. it even broke skin a little). So now she isn't as fond of me (the price you have to pay when you want to be a vet..), but we still get along pretty well.

Isn't she beautiful? And she's even softer than she looks.

They were thinking about breeding her, but she has this issue with her hip and has to take pain meds every day, so they decided against it (probably a good thing). She would have made adorable babies, though.

Anyway, she likes people well enough, but she loves playing with dogs. So the camp owners got her a puppy to play with, and they are best friends. The only issue is that he craves human attention and completely ignores the fox when anyone goes out there. Then she is desperately trying to get him to play with her again, and it's kinda sad. That's really the only time she actually seems like a fox (she looks like an American Eskimo Dog so much sometimes.. and acts like one).

Aww. They're like Yin and Yang. (Ignore my feet.)

And just recently, the camp got another fox! I was so excited when I found out. This little guy is a pale fox, which is the least studied canine species.. so that's pretty interesting. I honestly don't know much about him (just met him long enough to snap a picture), but I'm hoping we will get to know each other soon.

He's so cute! And tiny! I just want to scoop him up and hug him.

When monkeys attack..

I'm the quiet kid in classes. It's always been that way. If it weren't for my grades, my professors wouldn't even know I existed. Unless they do one of those "Getting to Know You" worksheets on the first day of class. Because I'm awesome at them. Especially when they ask something like, "Tell me a fact about you that will help me remember you." Most of the time, I doubt they remember what the students write down, but I know they remember mine. This is what I write:

"I was attacked by a horny monkey that was overly protective of his human 'mate'."

That gets their attention. 

Full story? Okay..

This happened at the zoo/camp I worked at, but it was before anyone was there (just the animal caretakers stuck around during the off-season). I guess it when I first started there because I was still just feeding animals, and I wanted to go in with Abu, the vervet monkey, for the first time (they like to be careful about who goes in with the primates). So I asked my boss, and she said she would take me in with him.

Boo. He's sweet when he's not acting like an angry 3 year old child. (I didn't take these pictures, by the way.. I was too worried he'd steal my camera.)

When we got to his room, she went in, and then Abu started acting weird (normally he was cool with me through the door). You would think that if a a reasonably-sized primate were trying to stare you down, you would get the idea that make he doesn't want you near him, but I ignored that. Silly me. I just wanted to be friends.

So my boss took him to the other side of the room, and I walked in. The door had barely shut before Abu had launched himself across the room and latched onto my arm. He twisted my flesh with either his teeth or his stubby, yet surprisingly sharp fingernails (it was really hard to tell which it was) and would not let go. I honestly didn't feel much except for his weight on my arm, which I halfheartedly tried to shake off. Thankfully, my boss grabbed his tail and pulled him off of me, and I was able to get out of there.

The damage wasn't too horrible, but I bled quite a bit (which was a little awkward because I had to go to my brother's wedding rehearsal right after that, and since I was a bridesmaid, I had to give that bloody, mangled thing to the groomsman that was walking with me.. I think he was little freaked out when he found out a monkey bit me), and I had a pretty huge bruise for awhile. Now, all that is left of that exciting day is the memory and a faded scar.

Abu and I are great friends now, though. Every time I visit him, he ever so gently grooms my head (after he tries to steal anything I might have in my pockets, that is). Turns out he just didn't want me to steal his 'mate' from him (I guess he thought I was a lesbian?). We've had some really interesting times together, Abu and I. Perhaps I will share some of them in upcoming posts.

Fun fact: Vervet monkeys have blue balls. Seriously.

Isn't that a lovely color? Monkey balls blue... I think I'd like to paint my bathroom that color someday. (This isn't Abu, but it might as well be.)

The probe of horror.

Know what's awkward? Semen checks.

Having to do that to any animal is awkward, but doing it to bulls... it's probably the most awkward thing I've ever experienced. I'm slowly becoming desensitized, so hopefully it won't phase me soon, but as of now: I still shudder every time I think about it.

Never experienced a semen check? Don't worry! I'll fill you in on all the gory details...

Imagine a massive, beefy bull caught in a head chute (I've talked about these before).

Like this. Except this is obviously not a bull. So imagine a much larger, stockier creature.

Then imagine a couple of old farmers standing around, watching and waiting and discussing matters of the cattle farming nature. Sometimes they even bring their wives, who generally just watch.

Now the vet comes in and sticks his/her arm into the bull's anus. Normally there isn't a huge reaction during this part. It's just the vet massaging around in there for a little bit, and sometimes a tech will use this opportunity to measure the scrotal circumference.

So the bull has kinda been stimulated, it's slightly aroused, and it's time to bring in the big guns.

This is an electro-ejaculator probe. That just sounds terrifying. By the way, this thing is bigger than my arm.

Yep, that frightening contraption goes into the bull's anus (along with a great deal of lube). And then it stimulates him. Electrically. With waves of shocks, basically. And the bull arches its back and makes these horrible "merrrrrrrr"ing noises and grunts. You can feel his discomfort and violation. Your own butt starts to hurt.

You are privy to these sensations, but apparently, the farmers aren't. They just stand there, still watching. Still nonchalantly chatting about the sale barn. That's probably the worst part. I mean, yeah, watching a bull painfully "getting off" is bad enough, but watching it with a bunch of old men? Ugh.

It's even worse when the bull is a "virgin bull". It's even more worse when the old men make comments about it throughout the whole thing ("Yep, he's a virgin.. bet he's gonna like this..." and, "Look at him; he's enjoying that.."). It's pretty sick.

Within a matter of seconds, the semen is collected and "The Violator" is removed (covered in poop and blood). Then the vet makes a slide and does a count to see how viable (and therefore, sell-able) the bull is for breeding. Usually the bull collapses as soon as the probe of horror is slid out of his anus, and you can see the exhaustion, embarrassment, degradation, violation, etc. all over his face. It's so sad.

There are other ways to collect semen from a bull, but this (unfortunately) is the only way I've seen it done firsthand. It sucks that things like this are part of veterinary medicine (the painful method, I mean.. the semen collecting itself doesn't really bother me). It really sucks that I will have to be the one inflicting this kind of pain at some point in my career. I hate it, but I remember that the good I can do as a vet will greatly outweigh these not-so-good things.

Perspective.

One of the most worthwhile, yet heartbreaking things I have done so far on my journey to becoming a vet was volunteer work at a local animal shelter.

One of my self-appointed volunteer duties was to take pictures of and advertise animals at the shelter. Here's one of my favorites (I had a tendency to fall in love with almost every animal I met there).

This animal shelter is not fancy. It is operated entirely by animal control officers and is funded by the city (which means it gets very little funding, especially since it is located in a rural area where a lot of people view animals as money instead of living creatures).

This shelter is like a second home to me. I had to endure a lot of sadness there, but the little victories add up and make it an amazing place. Every adoption was a victory.

It is a dreary place, made almost completely of concrete and metal. Not very warm or inviting, that's for sure. And then there is all the barking and crying emanating from the dark kennels in the back. At first, I was a little concerned about what I was getting myself into, but then I met the animal control officers.

There are so many sweet, loving, incredible animals at shelters just waiting to find a family. They are the reason I want to become a vet.

Never in my life have I met other people that are so passionate, kind, caring, and hardworking. They are truly amazing people that have one of the most difficult and under-appreciated jobs I can imagine. They are so misunderstood because they have to clean up the city's messes, and unfortunately, that sometimes means that they have to put animals to sleep. They don't enjoy it. It's the thing they hate most about their job (along with the irresponsible pet owners that are the reason behind euthanasia). That and the fact that no matter how hard they work, because of their low funding and false reputation, they never get to do as much for animals as they would like. It's so sad and so frustrating, and it is amazing to me that no matter how many times they are disappointed, they just keep fighting.

Fighting the urge to go adopt.... too many pets already... already lost this battle twice in the past few months... (don't be surprised if my next post is an introduction to a newly adopted pet...)

I'll write about some of my adventures at the shelter in future posts, but perspective is by far the most important thing I've gained from volunteering at the shelter, and it is something I will cherish throughout my career.

Here's a llama, there's a llama..

Working at camp, it wasn't uncommon for one to walk in on things like this:

A friend managed to capture this lovely picture.

It's good for a laugh. Until the kids see it. Then you get all kinds of awkward questions.

Or until you need the llama on the bottom for a llama walking class (notice the abandoned halter and lead rope). Let me tell you, pushing horny, male llamas off a female is not easy. Especially when there is a stack of them on top of her (actually, a stack of camelids, as the black one on top is actually an alpaca). And then you have Dalai over there (that's right, Dalai Llama) creepily waiting in line.

The first time I had to push them off (usually I just let them be), the boys got the female back down before I could get her away from them. Then I tried again, basically throwing myself against the big brown guy in the middle (for some reason, they were always in that order). We landed in a heap of llama fur and dust, and we flailed on the ground just long enough for the female to escape. The brown guy didn't like me much after that. I endured his evil, llama glares for the rest of the summer.

But then you walked in on things like this:

I actually took this picture a tad too late. They were cuddling just before this.

There's just something about armadillo/tortoise love that warms your heart and makes battling horny llamas (and wallabies... and other things I have yet to post about) completely worth it.

After a long day of fur and poop...

I spent my day grooming my beautiful horse and my grandpa's bottle calf. I also cleaned out one of our barn stalls (with the help of an awesome friend) so my horse could have a break from pasture life with other horses that hate her (they won't even let people near her, and it took me almost half and hour to get her away from them.. you should have seen how happy and prancey she was). So I'm kinda exhausted, which means I'm going to skip the story telling for today.

Instead, I am going to make a request. A feedback request. So, amazing people that read this blog, how am I doing? What could I do better? What kinds of things do you find most interesting/would like to read more of? What would you like to read less of? Any questions, suggestions, criticisms, and tips would be very much appreciated.

So comment below or send me an email. I want to make this blog as awesome and entertaining as I possibly can, but I'm not always the best at knowing what people want, so don't be afraid to tell me!

Rosco, the bottle calf that has trouble keeping his tongue in his mouth..

Fanny, my awesome horse with an unfortunate name.