I would do anything for love when it comes to my fur babies.
I’m already doing it. My salary is theirs. Working for the six animals in the household. Four require serious and not so serious medication while the other two are thriving.
Health report of the fur babies:
Tara-Habby-Queen Bae.
Big E-Leader of the upstairs pack.
Winnie-Herpes
Fate-Fibrinous Anteriour Uveitis in both eyes-FIP suspect
Fate- 9 months
Pi Patel-aside from a career as a Mulberry model –possible liver cancer/dermatologic issues
Toby-cataract and liver issues
The caretakers:
Me-increased consumption in wine and trying to be a runner as well as trying to be a Buddhist, trying to be an Episcopalian, while pretending to be a Catholic.
Mom, my mom-bitchin about the fur babies!
It’s all good.
At least, I keep telling myself, mantra style.
I’m gonna brag a bit.
No.
Not brag about the restaurants I visited, the vacations I had, my PR running time or even the enormous amount of weight I lost.
I’m a gonna brag about the Furbabies.
The Furs.
Home Cooking:
Anti inflammatory recipe for Pi Patel and now Tobias thanks to my dear neighbour Karen!
This is how they roll…in the house of course.
Tara-Habby’s throneThe Habby’s private bathroom and rooftop loungePrivate gym and library
On a Wednesday in March, mi perro, my mini schnauzer, my mulberry doggy ware model, my Pi Patel, my fur baby underwent an ultra sound due to blood work which revealed high liver enzymes and cholesterol levels.
He was diagnosed with possible liver cancer.
On a Thursday, the following week, mi gato negra, my domestic short hair, my sassy than thou, my Fate, my fur baby had cloudy eyes and visited an ophthalmologist.
Based on the status of her eyes, she more than likely has FIP.
Can I please dig a hole in the ground, preferably in the backyard, crawl down and hibernate for the next 7 years? Is it okay to randomly scream as loud as possible, opening my mouth and having no sound escape-a silent scream like the figure in the “The Scream“.
I’ve emotionally held up owners or held their fur babies paws during a euthanasia for the past three years. I wonder who the hell will offer the same support to me?
No one.
Because I Will Not Let It Happen.
Grieving is personal and I protect myself intensely.
I grieved for my father alone.
Silently crying at night, reeling from the pain of losing a parent to trying to feel the pain my father endured throughout his life. Accepting the pain of knowing my father has permanently left this earth and won’t be returning is an ongoing process.
I grieved for my cousin alone.
I cried silently at work. I was numb at home. I cried walking through Target after seeing the Dove body wash he raved about using. I’m still in a state where I know he’s gone but can’t fathom his presence gone from this earth.
My memories of those two souls are always in my present. I live in the house where memories were created as we once dwelled there together. The backyard and third floor is my cousin. The house itself, the basement and the stoop is my father.
Grief and memories are intertwined.
One persons’ grief process is not another’s.
The loss is real. I’ve lost a parent. I’ve lost a cousin.
I’ve also lost two neighbours within a month. I want to say three for my ex-brother in law lived for a time in the ‘hood when it was the ‘hood’ and not the ‘neighourhood’.
Thought this New Year would be like any other New Year’s spent in the past: bed by 10pm New Year’s Eve and waking up to the same old same way on New Year’s Day.
I was wrong.
First…
I made plans to go out on New Year’s Eve, to eat, drink and be merry. I did eat, drink and was merry by sipping on bourbon drinks, champagne, sparkling wine and eating at a restaurant in the hood with some special people who made socializing for an introvert comfortable.
Second…
Leading up to the New Year was not so good job wise. I left the job that hired me when no other would. Not going into specifics, it was a decision based on hurt. Hurtful in the way my boss handled a dispute with a co worker-by, doing, nothing. It seems as if climactic events in mi vida spur up at this time of year.
“When the path you walk always leads back to yourself, you never get anywhere” Oogway
The time had come to move on and although I’ve known this for a while, pushing myself to do so was another thing. Comfort/Familiarity at times can stifle growth. Why take a chance, throwing your back to wind, and riding on a gust when it’s easier to slip into flannel pajamas and watch a marathon of SVU on the tube?
By leaving this job, I’ve placed my school in jeopardy as I no longer have a preceptor. My fur babies no longer have a doctor. My discounts from working there are no longer available which puts me on high alert in regards to providing pet care and meds for the fur babies.
It’s okay.
“One often meets his destiny on the road he takes to avoid it” Oogway
Third…
I am working in a Specialty Hospital in Emergency Room and Internal Medicine. I am WAY OVER my head and up to now don’t understand why I was hired as a Tech. I enjoy what I do although it is hard to deal with some of the ER cases or dealing with emergency mode when techs and doctors are trying to resuscitate an animal to no avail. I have trouble calculating meds and I’m not familiar with some of the meds or lab machines used in this specialty. At times, I feel like an idiot and question why I was not hired as an assistant when it seemed this was the direction the interview process was leading to.
But…
I was told I qualify under “License Eligible” due to my enrollment in a vet tech program. I want to believe an accident was made but…
“There are no accidents” Oogway
So begins 2016 and I have no worries about the past because it is done. No worries about the future (at least let me believe I don’t) and presently I am okay with where I’m at.
I thought bringing a second cat in the home would have many benefits.
I thought Tara-Habby was in need of a sister, another cat who could share in the tormenting of the two mini schnauzers, whom she deemed privileged to live with her.
I thought two cats are better than one.
I thought Tara-Habby and Winnie would be the best of friends, grooming each other, playing and getting stoned on catnip together.
I thought…
WRONG!
My household is now a battle ground between two female cats, one who wants to play and the other bent on showing the other one who’s the boss.
Hissing, meowing, chasing, racing, climbing, catnip stonage used to refuel the hissing, meowing, chasing racing, climbing!
Why can’t they just get along?
They do. In their own way.
The hissing does not require my spray water bottle intervention.
The meowing does not require the use of my strong voice mode of ‘Stop It!’
The chasing, racing, climbing just requires my getting out of the way.
The catnip stonage…yeah…I admit to being their catnip dealer.
Tara-Habby and Winnie’s relationship is a work in progress and they may never be the BFF’s I’d hope them to be.
Yesterday, I saved a dog on a Saturday morning in Park Slope, Brooklyn.
He was running across a busy street known as Prospect Park West, adjacent to Prospect Park in Park Slope, Brooklyn.
I was on my way to work at the clinic about to cross this street to walk on the side of the park when a dog ran into the middle of traffic.
Well…
I ran out into the middle of traffic to stop the cars from potentially running over the dog.
Well…
The dog and myself were lucky enough to not meet HIM, our maker that day. I was able to hold back traffic but not the dog, now running down a block. The Farmers Market was taking place at the time so lots of humans were roaming the area. I called out to a jogger, “Please grab the dog”. He did so, hesitantly.
I made my way towards the dog and slowed down my pace as I approached it with my hand extended. The dog sat down, tail wagging and the jogger released his hold on the harness.
I wrapped my fingers around the metal link and did not let go.
The dog had tags on the collar…!
This is not Gus but he looks like him.
I sat on the curb, with Gus leaning on me, as a small crowd of witnesses gathered. I called the owners, balancing the tag with the info and punching the numbers into my cell. Others from the crowd volunteered to hold Gus.
I declined.
I was not going to let this angel out of my fingers.
A voice responded to my call and the wife of the husband who was walking the dog in Prospect Park was hysterical. She was at work and had no idea this transpired. I told her our location and promised to wait until her husband arrived.
Meanwhile the crowd slowly dispersed as I relayed the information about the owner coming.
Boy…was I gonna be late for work.
I’ve worked at PPAC for over a year now and cannot recall a time I was late.
It was hard to move with him as he was too big for me to carry with my bags and I had no leash to guide him but we made our way over to a nearby bench.
I heard the husband-owner calling to Gus before seeing him as my back was turned to the side. He ran up to us and Gus was so excited to see his owner. He thanked me profusely, saying I saved his kids’ lives because if he returned home without Gus, they would be devastated. He apologized and admitted while in the park with Gus, he took his eyes off him for a moment, and he was gone. He wanted my address, to send flowers, to drop off a gift. I declined and I stretched out my hand. He grasped it firmly and we shook. He had tears in his eyes and I almost broke down crying.
Well…
Prior to this happening I was making my way to work was feeling discouraged and experiencing serious second doubts about my career choice. It can be frustrating and confusing at times when doubt seeps in the alma.
I love climbing mountains, and I love challenges and I feel stuck in a rut right now-a rut caused by my own psyche and wanting to know everything all at once.
Gus was a sign, in a strange way. Meeting him on that Saturday morning was a wake-up call.
I am, where I am supposed to be right here and now.
When I made it to work, I was deemed a hero. I saved Gus’ life. The owner (wife) phoned and asked for my info to send a gift.
I declined…again.
I told her I was a vet tech and she laughed and said Gus was lucky to have run into me. She asked where I worked and I told her. Hopefully, we’ll get another client.
In the meantime, thank you Gus.
Yesterday, a dog named Gus saved me on a Saturday morning in Park Slope, Brooklyn.
It is now two months into my career transition from an Administrative Assistant to that of a Veterinary Technician Assistant.
The transition was subtle and quiet.
My former job was mundane and my interest waned. I arrived at my new job on day two and was tossed into ‘trial by fire’ for on that day the boss had me deal with cat/dog restraints, surgeries, and filling chemo prescriptions. I survived and did not faint or throw up during the surgery.
I complained at one time of sitting too much at the former job-now I stand for eight hours a shift. I eat lunch standing, I fill prescriptions standing, I assist with surgery standing…I stand.
I complained at one time of being disturbed during my one hour lunch break. Now, there are no lunch hour breaks, no five-minute break, no eating my bagel before starting the day’s work. No break.
I complained about the mundane repetitive duties. Now, some duties are repetitive but the clients and animals always present a new experience.
I complained about boredom and no room for growth. I now give medical injections and express the bladder of the resident kitty, who cannot do so on her own, as well as walking and cleaning up after dog boarders and medical boarders while simultaneously running the washer and dryer and cleaning up cat litter trays…this stops here.
Am I unhappy with the transition? No. Do I miss my other job? No. Have I thought about my other job? No.
After a shift, I return home pumped with adrenaline from the day’s work and it takes a while for it to dissipate. I do not come home stressed out or angry. I do not go to work stressed out and angry.
After two- years working as an Admin Assistant at a MICA women’s’ shelter in downtown Brooklyn, (far from my ‘hood but going through the same gentrification which destroyed mine)..I am now FREE!
Free to pursue my interest…school and working as a Vet Tech Assistant
Free of an unhealthy environment…I no longer inhale crack cocaine, cigarettes or marijuana on a 40 hour five days a week basis
Free of verbal and abusive violence…some from the clients, most from the staff
Free of all medical and dental benefits…now is not the time to need an appendectomy
Free of a mediocre salary…now I earn enough to qualify for the status of “below the poverty line”
Free of working with others my age…we will not go there just yet, still adjusting…
As of now, I work one day a week with fill in days at a neighbourhood veterinary practice. The practice is housed in a four-story limestone building across from Prospect Park, Brooklyn, New York, and a twenty-minute walk from my house.
The owner of the practice responded to my resume posted to a vet tech employment site. He called to schedule an interview two days after receiving it and I met him one day later, 6:30pm on a Friday evening. The interview was five minutes with a twenty-minute tour of the facility. I shadowed one day a week, (no pay) for about a month and officially hired August 1.
This was my third interview for a vet tech position, older in age than most entering a new field and thankfully this one came through! The owner was impressed with my cover letter, which, states where I come from-job wise and where I would like to go -passion wise. And yes, he is older than me, which I am sure helped in the hiring decision.
I’ve learned cat and dog restraint, how to feed a finicky chinchilla medicine and most importantly dodging lethal attacks from the in house resident rescue Chihuahua who has a thing for people of colour (he was found tied to a hydrant with his bed and it is possible he was abused by a person of colour, hence his desire to attack anyone darker than an office manila folder).
I also learned quite a bit on laboratory testing, administering meds with a pill popper and vaccines as well as aseptic techniques and medical jargon…this can go on but it stops here.
I assisted in an abdominal exploratory surgery. The poor doggie swallowed a rubber ball and only half was expelled. The rest? Found in his intestines, which were blazing red from the intrusion. I survived the procedure, did not faint and was able to monitor his pulse, blood pressure, and anesthesia and still eat sausage later in the week.
This experience is an exciting change from sitting behind a desk in an uncomfortable chair pushing papers and each day of work brings the opportunity to learn something new.
It’s been a long time since my words made their way onto a page.
Transitions continue to subtly move within mi alma and guide me towards the shifts needed to move from a mind-numbing rut into a forward moving , thinking with anticipation, embracing the changes strut.
I enrolled in an online vet tech program, in the process of completing my first semester of full time classes, gave two week notice, verbal and written at the 40 hour a week MICA shelter, began a part-time Sunday only vet tech assisting job, sent out resumes too numerous to mention, went and hopefully will continue to go on interviews and it’s all good. Being in my late 40’s, going through the changes and no, not menopause, makes it all good.
There have been kill-joys who wrinkle their noses upon learning of yet another of my career changes and that’s all good too. At least, I am blessed to have had the opportunity to explore and indulge where my passions take me-blowing in the wind.
But sometimes…
The wind may die down and you drop where it stops and fall into a hole. The hole can feel like a big soft blanket, safe and comforting of the most anesthetizing kind. Food, alcohol and e-books are easily delivered with a click from the keyboard or a cell phone call.
And eventually…
You realize the hole is just a hole with no forward or backward movement. It starts to become smaller and the big soft blanket now has scratchy fuzz which scrapes on your dry skin, waking you from the anesthesia you thought you had. Delivery food gets expensively boring and the alcohol makes you fat, while the unread e-books take up space on your Kindle.
I prayed and prayed, cursed, than prayed some more for guidance and HE gave it.
I slowly climbed from the hole and dusted the food crumbs off my body, got on the internet and researched on working with animals. My compassion and dedication to those who have difficulty defending themselves shifted from people to animals. This is now my forward motion and it’s all too good.
My two mini schnauzers have taught me many lessons : unconditional love, patience, understanding pain when it’s not expressed, getting rid of vomit stains, breaking up dog fights, cutting black nails, cleaning out ears, picking up feces , this can go on but it stops right now. I am grateful to them for their influence on my decision to embark on this career transition.
Thank you Tobias and Pi-Patel who incidentally, refused to get in the hole.
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Anélemc's Writing 
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