Thank you very much for writing this! It was hot and sweet and just plain yummy-- which, believe it or not, is just what a girl needs when she's facing down a night duty of cleaning up dog wee ^_^;;
Your devotion to the care and tending of the feathered and furry set will never surprise me. Impress, awe, bewilder, but not surprise.
(Good) feedback is awesome, awesome stuff, isn't it? I'm glad you're sharing in the joy, cause *sniffs, makes big brave doe eyes* I couldn't have done it without you.
You see, I didn't want to make any uninformed assumptions about your feelings on scaly things. Maybe you'd do anything in your power to protect and preserve mammals and birds, but when it comes to scaly critters you're all, "Fuck 'em. They're kinda gross. Here, give me that pointy stick. *jab jab jab*"
Scaly things are cool... except, y'know, when they've developed a desire to somehow injure you. Then they're not-so-cool.
And I've just realised, I seem to have completely hijacked a fair portion of your comment page for a discussion about dog urine s>and my shoes. I do apologise; the perspective police will be along any moment now to shoo me back to where I can't warp reality in a vaguely unhinged fashion
It was more the dog wee at two-hourly intervals throughout the night getting down me *laughs* My tolerance for urine waned around about 4am this morning... -_-;;
I feel the need to point out that the thing that makes us VN material, is that we actually have a tolerance to wee in the first place... o_O;;; I'm sure it forgivable that it ran out at some point. I guess this is the drawback with a live-in job.
Yeah... that's what quite a few work experience students fail to realise; if you want to work with animals, you have to have a certain expection of-- and tolerance to-- being creatively introduced to every possible kind of bodily fluid that you could imagine, and a few you couldn't, on a regular basis.
Of course, theoretically, I get that standing around drinking coffee whilst also possessing trouser-leg full of blood (or, indeed, a shoeful of wee) is not exactly a, uh... usual... response to a situation. Practically, however, I'm afraid that I'm standing around in my bare feet, drinking coffee and listening to my shoes clatter around the washing machine, with the best of them ^_^;;
I find that what most work experience students fail to grasp is that they will actually have to work.
Not counting lambing (because there's nothing quite like kneeling down to help a sheep in labour and discovering that's where the water broke then, as it soaks through your overalls, a pair of jeans, a pair of thermal socks, and your leg warmers, gradually cooling from actually pleasantly warm, I wouldn't want to leave that cosy place and join the outside world either to ewwwww, its wet and cold!!!), the best I got on work experience was the dog who'd had its ear sutchered (I don't think I spelt it right), who was whimpering as it came to and decided to vigorously shake its head the second I knelt down to comfort it. Mmmm, dog blood in the face. Lovely.
Natch. That is one reason I prefer wearing glasses-- apart from the whole contact lenses make me claw out my eyes with allergic reaction-- already-there eye shields!
It does make trips to the opticians interesting, however. "Why, yes, Mr. Opthalmologist, I need new glasses because a feral cat took exception to my old pair and pretty much reduced them to their constituent parts. It was like an optometrical version of A Nightmare On Elm Street. It's also, incidentally, why I look like something whupped my ass: it did."
I find that what most work experience students fail to grasp is that they will actually have to work.
And, yes, unfortunately. I tend to have the entirely unsympathetic "this is a mop-- this is a bucket full of disinfectant. Have fun!" view on such matters. *coughs* I'm probably going to be an awful VN Assessor when I start doing that later this year O_o;;
^_^;; Commonplace hazard of the job... as, unfortunately, the shoeful of wee I ended up with at o'dark thirty o'clock later on yesterday evening. Needless to say, my work shoes had a little trip into work's industrial washing machine this morning...
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I'm thrilled you thought the story was yummy. Thanks!
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Can you believe that once I'm qualified I aspire to do her job?
...Yep, I'm reading your comments, because it makes me happy to see the feedback you deserve ^_^
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Your devotion to the care and tending of the feathered and furry set will never surprise me. Impress, awe, bewilder, but not surprise.
(Good) feedback is awesome, awesome stuff, isn't it? I'm glad you're sharing in the joy, cause *sniffs, makes big brave doe eyes* I couldn't have done it without you.
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I love the feedback you got about hot buttered rum!
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You just never know, you know?
Mmmmmm, hot buttered rum.
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And I've just realised, I seem to have completely hijacked a fair portion of your comment page for a discussion about dog urine s>and my shoes. I do apologise; the perspective police will be along any moment now to shoo me back to where I can't warp reality in a vaguely unhinged fashion
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Of course, theoretically, I get that standing around drinking coffee whilst also possessing trouser-leg full of blood (or, indeed, a shoeful of wee) is not exactly a, uh... usual... response to a situation. Practically, however, I'm afraid that I'm standing around in my bare feet, drinking coffee and listening to my shoes clatter around the washing machine, with the best of them ^_^;;
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Not counting lambing (because there's nothing quite like kneeling down to help a sheep in labour and discovering that's where the water broke then, as it soaks through your overalls, a pair of jeans, a pair of thermal socks, and your leg warmers, gradually cooling from actually pleasantly warm, I wouldn't want to leave that cosy place and join the outside world either to ewwwww, its wet and cold!!!), the best I got on work experience was the dog who'd had its ear sutchered (I don't think I spelt it right), who was whimpering as it came to and decided to vigorously shake its head the second I knelt down to comfort it. Mmmm, dog blood in the face. Lovely.
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Natch. That is one reason I prefer wearing glasses-- apart from the whole contact lenses make me claw out my eyes with allergic reaction-- already-there eye shields!
It does make trips to the opticians interesting, however. "Why, yes, Mr. Opthalmologist, I need new glasses because a feral cat took exception to my old pair and pretty much reduced them to their constituent parts. It was like an optometrical version of A Nightmare On Elm Street. It's also, incidentally, why I look like something whupped my ass: it did."
I find that what most work experience students fail to grasp is that they will actually have to work.
And, yes, unfortunately. I tend to have the entirely unsympathetic "this is a mop-- this is a bucket full of disinfectant. Have fun!" view on such matters. *coughs* I'm probably going to be an awful VN Assessor when I start doing that later this year O_o;;
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^_^;; Commonplace hazard of the job... as, unfortunately, the shoeful of wee I ended up with at o'dark thirty o'clock later on yesterday evening. Needless to say, my work shoes had a little trip into work's industrial washing machine this morning...
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