Little Things
Sometimes I feel like all I do is gripe about my job. Lately it's been long hours at overbooked clinics, with sick animals and underfunded or high-maintenance clients, and I've been starting to wonder if I was burning out. And then something little happens, and I remember why I love what I do.
Earlier this week I showed up at work (at an old favorite clinic, which makes it even better) and found that the extra exam room had been closed off. Apparently the head tech had arrived at the hospital to find someone already waiting in the parking lot, with a stray cat they had found. (Or, to be more accurate, a stray cat that had found them; it showed up on their porch and tried to get in the house.) Not sure where else to go, they brought it to us, since we were the nearest hospital.
The tech had scanned the cat, and found out that he had a microchip - and that he had apparently been a patient at the clinic.... in 2005. She then set him up in the extra room with food, water, litterbox, and bed, and we spent the rest of the day hunting down current contact information for the owner.
Five hours and half a dozen phone calls later, we finally found them. And found out that the kitty in question had been missing for nearly a month. In less than half an hour we were treated to a tearful reunion (the owner did her best to be stoic and unimpressed, but once she and the cat were reunited, I think everyone in the hospital started getting a little sniffly).
No impressive medicine, no dramatic surgery or heroics, no defying death... but still, this is part of my job. And it's not something that everyone gets to do on a daily basis. And it was just what I needed to be part of, right now....
Earlier this week I showed up at work (at an old favorite clinic, which makes it even better) and found that the extra exam room had been closed off. Apparently the head tech had arrived at the hospital to find someone already waiting in the parking lot, with a stray cat they had found. (Or, to be more accurate, a stray cat that had found them; it showed up on their porch and tried to get in the house.) Not sure where else to go, they brought it to us, since we were the nearest hospital.
The tech had scanned the cat, and found out that he had a microchip - and that he had apparently been a patient at the clinic.... in 2005. She then set him up in the extra room with food, water, litterbox, and bed, and we spent the rest of the day hunting down current contact information for the owner.
Five hours and half a dozen phone calls later, we finally found them. And found out that the kitty in question had been missing for nearly a month. In less than half an hour we were treated to a tearful reunion (the owner did her best to be stoic and unimpressed, but once she and the cat were reunited, I think everyone in the hospital started getting a little sniffly).
No impressive medicine, no dramatic surgery or heroics, no defying death... but still, this is part of my job. And it's not something that everyone gets to do on a daily basis. And it was just what I needed to be part of, right now....