(a conglomeration of thoughts i've been having for the past month or twenty years)
So I have a gift. I know this. I've known this since I was little. I mean, not every little girl brings in every stray animal she finds when she's five years old, right? (This includes: a rabbit and bird that I nursed back to health, a snake, a cat that became our beloved companion for many years...) And certainly, not every little girl finds a litter of feral kittens, hissing at and biting her, and thinks, "Oh, I should bring them home and give them food!" (See: me at twelve years old.)
My friends, jokingly or not, call me the cat/dog/animal whisperer. I can solve any behavior problem, given enough time. Hell, some of the animals even just behave when they're around me, even if they don't ever do that otherwise. (My cats, all seven of them at the time, lived quite peacefully with four mice, two rats and a turtle. Just two years ago.) Even working in a business that deals with animals, I am the only person who has bonded with certain dogs and in one case, I am the only person in the entire company who can walk one dog.
I want to help animals, that part is understandable. The "weird" part is that the animals just trust me to help them. It took me a long, long time to put my finger on this. I wanted to help animals and they wanted to be helped; what's so weird about that? But once I started looking, and saw how other people were treated by said animals... well, there's quite a difference, isn't there?
Countless times, I've been walking down a street only to see a dog dragging its guardian over towards me. Which is sort of normal, right? Dogs are friendly, generallly. Except, numerous times, the person has said, "Oh, I don't know what's up with her, she's never like this." Sometimes, I smell like a bunch of other animals (understandable, given my job) so the dog could be drawn to their scent but sometimes, I don't. And sometimes I give that excuse and the person replies, "Well, she doesn't like other dogs, so..."
What other person goes into their vet office and, when faced with a no-win situation, finds a possible cure and definite research program and keeps the cat alive for three months longer than anyone would have guessed? My vet office, after Phoenix, now listens to me for advice on my cats (and others) because they respect my opinion and know that I know what's going on with animals, even if I have no formal training.
So, what do you do with a gift? You foster it, you nurture it, you let it grow. Or, in my case (being one who is completely afraid of making a commitment in any form), you run completely away from it, or as much as you can because a gift is a gift on both ends of the line and I am, at least, drawn to saving animals. Didn't I start a rescue with this in mind? Didn't I become vegan with this in mind? Haven't I been doing this my whole life with, maybe not a coherent thought process behind it but, a distinct need to save animals?
When I was three years old, I learned how to spell veterinarian because I knew that was what I was meant to do with my life. From the age of three until I was fifteen, I dedicated my entire life to becoming a veterinarian. (At fifteen, my father died and my whole world was thrown topsy-turvy and you all know about that, right?) Have I achieved that? No, I haven't. Have I saved animals' lives that would have otherwise been lost? Yes, I definitely have (just look at Felix, at her history before I rescued her). But it's not enough. I mean, it's never enough, but I know that I have something greater that I can do and just am not working on it (see: every animal I have failed to save).
So, after years of wandering aimlessly (intellectually speaking), I think I'm ready to face my destiny. Destiny? But of course. That's such a strong word. But destiny applies when you have tried to avoid one specific path but you keep coming back to it, no matter what you do. That is destiny. And that is the definition of my life. I've tried to stop saving animals, but I can't. Even now, long after I've stopped being involved with the rescue I co-founded and fostered for, people still come to me instead of the rescue for help. So, here is my declaration: It is my destiny to be a veterinarian. I know that that's what I need to do to be truly happy in life. And I've figured out what I need to do to achieve that goal. So, if everything works out as perfectly as I've planned (ha!), I'll be entering vet school in September 2012. If not, a bit later, but I know that this is what I need to do and that it is my path. (It would help if someone emailed my mom and told her that my plan of moving in with her for the next 6-12 months is because of my ~destiny thankyouverymuch)
So... yeah. I know what I need to do. Please remind me in the coming months, when I falter, that I won't be happy otherwise.
My friends, jokingly or not, call me the cat/dog/animal whisperer. I can solve any behavior problem, given enough time. Hell, some of the animals even just behave when they're around me, even if they don't ever do that otherwise. (My cats, all seven of them at the time, lived quite peacefully with four mice, two rats and a turtle. Just two years ago.) Even working in a business that deals with animals, I am the only person who has bonded with certain dogs and in one case, I am the only person in the entire company who can walk one dog.
I want to help animals, that part is understandable. The "weird" part is that the animals just trust me to help them. It took me a long, long time to put my finger on this. I wanted to help animals and they wanted to be helped; what's so weird about that? But once I started looking, and saw how other people were treated by said animals... well, there's quite a difference, isn't there?
Countless times, I've been walking down a street only to see a dog dragging its guardian over towards me. Which is sort of normal, right? Dogs are friendly, generallly. Except, numerous times, the person has said, "Oh, I don't know what's up with her, she's never like this." Sometimes, I smell like a bunch of other animals (understandable, given my job) so the dog could be drawn to their scent but sometimes, I don't. And sometimes I give that excuse and the person replies, "Well, she doesn't like other dogs, so..."
What other person goes into their vet office and, when faced with a no-win situation, finds a possible cure and definite research program and keeps the cat alive for three months longer than anyone would have guessed? My vet office, after Phoenix, now listens to me for advice on my cats (and others) because they respect my opinion and know that I know what's going on with animals, even if I have no formal training.
So, what do you do with a gift? You foster it, you nurture it, you let it grow. Or, in my case (being one who is completely afraid of making a commitment in any form), you run completely away from it, or as much as you can because a gift is a gift on both ends of the line and I am, at least, drawn to saving animals. Didn't I start a rescue with this in mind? Didn't I become vegan with this in mind? Haven't I been doing this my whole life with, maybe not a coherent thought process behind it but, a distinct need to save animals?
When I was three years old, I learned how to spell veterinarian because I knew that was what I was meant to do with my life. From the age of three until I was fifteen, I dedicated my entire life to becoming a veterinarian. (At fifteen, my father died and my whole world was thrown topsy-turvy and you all know about that, right?) Have I achieved that? No, I haven't. Have I saved animals' lives that would have otherwise been lost? Yes, I definitely have (just look at Felix, at her history before I rescued her). But it's not enough. I mean, it's never enough, but I know that I have something greater that I can do and just am not working on it (see: every animal I have failed to save).
So, after years of wandering aimlessly (intellectually speaking), I think I'm ready to face my destiny. Destiny? But of course. That's such a strong word. But destiny applies when you have tried to avoid one specific path but you keep coming back to it, no matter what you do. That is destiny. And that is the definition of my life. I've tried to stop saving animals, but I can't. Even now, long after I've stopped being involved with the rescue I co-founded and fostered for, people still come to me instead of the rescue for help. So, here is my declaration: It is my destiny to be a veterinarian. I know that that's what I need to do to be truly happy in life. And I've figured out what I need to do to achieve that goal. So, if everything works out as perfectly as I've planned (ha!), I'll be entering vet school in September 2012. If not, a bit later, but I know that this is what I need to do and that it is my path. (It would help if someone emailed my mom and told her that my plan of moving in with her for the next 6-12 months is because of my ~destiny thankyouverymuch)
So... yeah. I know what I need to do. Please remind me in the coming months, when I falter, that I won't be happy otherwise.