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2002-08-30 - 7:39 p.m.

Dear lord, I'm tired. I'm so tired that I hardly want to complain that I finished an entry here two days ago just as Diaryland shut down for some server thing and I therefore lost the entire entry and couldn't get on for another two hours to retype it. I couldn't stay up that late (I realize I'm an adult, but really, I couldn't keep my eyes open that long). So, a bit of recap from last week, then I'll get into this week. Sit back, it may be a long one.

My last day at WPC (my old clinic) was relatively uneventful, although I had to kill a couple of guinea pigs as the last thing I ever did for my old place. This is sad to me, as I love pigs and such a sad event is a weird way to go out. My last day at PPH (the satellite clinic) last Monday was another regular day, but for the very last appointment. You guessed it, another euthanasia. Now, I normally don't go off a little on people about to put their pets to sleep, because I think it's traumatic. For a lot of my clients it's like losing a member of their family. For me, losing one of the cats would be crushing. Joe (we'll call him for lack of a better name) was truly a crazy guy. Crazy insane, not crazy like Steve Martin's craaaazeee guy. He called in the morning and I was totally booked but agreed to see him at noon to put his dog to sleep (we'll call her Fluffy, for lack of a better name). Joe proceeds to call at about 11 to say he overslept and wanted to bathe Fluffy before bringing her in so could we do this later. I had time at the very end of the day so we set it up for 5:45 (we close at six). He then says he wants to do it on the lawn, not a cold exam room. Ok, we can do that. He would like to do it himself. Nope, sorry. He shows up at six, I go out to his SUV where his significant other (we'll call her Joyce, for lack of a better name) is watching Fluffy. Fluffy tries to bite Joe as he moves her closer to the tailgate (he's decided we can euthanize her in the truck instead of the lawn - passing traffic probably appreciates this). Fluffy has gone to hell - she has lost unbelievable amounts of weight, her skin is full of bed sores, one on her right hip is open and infected. She is trying to bite because her back end hurts so badly. Joe holds her back from us as my technician helps hold off a vein and I administer the solution. Joe proceeds to slur to me (did I forget to mention that he is drunk as a skunk?) that it's a good thing Joyce came along, otherwise he'd just walk up to the railroad tracks behind the clinic and wait for a train to end it all. Great. Drunk, crazy, suicidal. I guess the crazy he can't help that much; in a previous office visit he told me about his accident and resultant brain damage. Geez, I pick the winners. It took them a while to leave. He brought Fluffy up to the clinic and we put them in an exam room to spend some more time together. He wanted to put her in the bag. Nope, no way. He wanted to know about the cremation service we use - for the thousandth time. If you don't trust me, take her yourself. I can understand (esp after that whole thing in Georgia) wanting to make sure it's your pet, but for crying out loud, if I have to tell you ten times the VHA is a responsible organization that not only has a mass crematorium but several individual ones for returning ashes, believe me. You can even go there and watch - what a morbid concept! So, great way to go out.

On a better note, the last day party was fun. I got a couple of gifts and a cake. More than I got going in! Lots of good food. Lots of good talk. Hotter than hell. Weird, too, to be leaving this position.

Another reason to be tired - moving f'n furniture. Scott tore out the carpet from the basement last weekend and then we moved stuff out to the garbage on Monday night. That includes the smelly sofa and loveseat. Couldn't someone have used them, you ask? Well, picture the Volkswagon commercial (da, da, da) as those two young men see a chair, put it in the car, drive a ways, wrinkle their noses, leave chair on curb. That's our furniture. We took it out at dusk and the garbage men had it out of here by seven the next morning. Not much time for neighbors to see the stuff. Yeah!

Wednesday our new wood laminate floor was installed. It's bee-yoo-ti-full. I love it. It serves a few functions - not only does it look better and smell better and is easier to care for than carpet, but the cats slip and slide on it, providing hours of quality entertainment.

My car started showing the coolant-is-low light so I filled it with coolant (the chamber was bone dry). The next day, I had to fill it again. Took it in - now I have a brand spankin' new PT Cruiser because we bought a new car last night to replace my breaking down, we're not paying hundreds of dollars to put in a new water pump when we were going to get a new car before winter, car. I LOVE MY NEW VEHICLE!!

Well, I've probably bored you enough. I will say that i like my new office - when I actually have an office I'll be even happier. For those of you who watch King of the Hill, I work with the guy who mumbles and talks too fast to understand (Boomhauer?). He's from Georgia (originally from Kentucky) and is a little slow in doing things, although he does know his stuff. I can hardly focus on what he says, though, much less understand the words coming out of his mouth. He's a recycler, too, and could not believe I would scrap my car for a new water pump. Hey, Boomhauer, I was going to get a new car anyway, get over it.

Well, now I'll go. I am off with my husband, his mother and some old ladies to see Les Miserable tomorrow. For some reason, they want to go to lunch first and then dinner after, so it's going to be a long day. One I'm looking forward to, though.

Until later.

 

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