This is the part where I lay down on Brody and start feeling sorry for myself. Not really. I’m just running out of brain cells to remember things and direct my fingers to type them.
I was looking through the files of my old journal and came upon this little gem from last Christmas. Last Christmas was rough. Mulan was very sick (she was euthanized on New Year’s Eve) and every death was a reminder of what was coming.
I read it today and actually laughed at myself. Boy was I bitter. This year will be better, though.
“Christmas at the veterinary hospital always means death and destruction. Seriously. Those in the field will back me up. It was worse in the emergency hospital, but even in my boring old day clinic there has been a rapid parade of serious unresponsive viral pneumonias, cancers, parvo, and the like.
I said I needed a Christmas miracle, and the next room was a 12 year old Pomeranian who had lost half his body weight in a month. The woman adopted him a month ago and had $30 to spare since she has 6 kids at home. The tech brought the dog back and told me she wanted to euthanize her but couldn’t afford to cremate him, even, so she needed to take him home. And did we have a box to put his body in. I said, “This is NOT WHAT I WAS TALKING ABOUT!” and burst into tears. I think the techs were a little scared at that point since I’ve never actually done that before.
So… we euthanized him and we sent the dog home in a box. What, you were expecting some sort of happy ending?
OK, I went to my car after work- the parking lot was flooded and it was raining up a storm- and I had a flat tire.
Ho ho ho!”
This was her very first Christmas at my house: note the healing pyoderma and acral lick granulomas she arrived with.
Boy, I haven’t seen these pictures in ages. 2002, her first Christmas as a V. I still can’t look at the pictures- any of them- from this last Christmas.
I promise to be merrier this holiday season!
*dedicating my home stretch to Mulan, because for all her fluff she was a heck of a fighter too