Faith in Humanity

Last week at work, I had the occasion to answer questions from a very nice couple about how one becomes a veterinarian. We weren’t overly busy, and the ant bait their dog ingested was fortunately minimally toxic, so while poor Buffy sat in the back vomiting it all back up (don’t worry, we made him do it) I had a few moments to talk.

I shared with them the same advice I had received as a wide eyed vet school applicant- “Lots of people get into this field because they love animals more than they love people. But you have to like working with people or you are going to fail miserably.” And it’s so true. After all, no matter what an animal needs, if you can’t convince their owner you are suggesting the right and necessary course of action, it’s all in vain.

This knowledge comes in time to all vets. Some take it better than others. You have to be an advocate for the pets; if you don’t believe in your heart that this is your primary role, than you’re in the wrong job. On the other hand, if you can’t work with the owners and show them some empathy, sometimes you don’t get to provide any care to the pets in need at all. So it’s a balancing act, between what you want, what the pets need, and what a sometimes ambivalent owner can or will provide.

You see the best and worst in people in this place. In an emergency clinic, who knows what is going to roll in next, or who will be attached to it. Last wee, the receptionists rushed into the back with a twelve week old miniature pinscher puppy who had been attacked by a pit bull. The poor pup was in bad shape. It took a good half an hour just to get the puppy minimally stabilized, but she had some pretty severe signs of head trauma.

I went into the room to talk to the owner, who sent her children out of the room. She sobbed as she told me how her dog had been grabbed by the head and tossed around, how she grabbed the attacking dog and pried its mouth open. She knew the situation wasn’t good.

I prepared an estimate for her for the cost of care, and while I was doing that the dog started to take another turn for the worse. In the face of money that they didn’t have, and the poor prognosis, the owner decided to euthanize the puppy. As she, then her children, each came in to say goodbye, the tech holding the oxygen mask on the puppy could barely hold back her own tears. The family was in such a crummy situation and we all felt so badly for them, and especially for the little puppy who had no chance to grow up.

As the owner was leaving, she was met by her husband, who had waited in the waiting area. She hit him on the shoulder and started to yell at him about she hated his #$%!$% fighting dogs. Then walked out the door, as I scraped my jaw off the floor. Here I was thinking this woman was walking down the street, victim to a random aggressive animal, when in fact she had knowingly brought this defenseless little puppy into a house with fighting dogs. And yes, when you deal with people like this day after day, it makes it hard to have a positive view human race.

My next room was a small 8 week old kitten that was covered in fleas. His belly was so big from roundworms that it felt like he had a tennis ball in his tummy. He was underweight, dehydrated, and ate an entire can of canned food so ravenously my tech almost lost the tip of her finger. I was determined at this point not to let another clueless owner get away without getting an earful, but before I could say anything the woman told me that this was a stray kitten that had been crying in her apartment complex for 2 days. She couldn’t keep it, she explained, but she wanted to at least get him checked out and she was afraid if she didn’t bring him in he would die in the summer heat.

So I told her about the ear mites, the worms, the vaccines. I told her what I would suggest if this were a cat she was going to keep, knowing she probably wasn’t going to put out $200. I also told her about some of the rescues in the area, but they were all closed for the day. I realized then that she didn’t want to bring the cat home at all and had brought it to us hoping we would take it. So we stared at each other, me unable to take in strays, her unable to take it home. The hungry little cat meowed contentedly, more comfortable after a Capstar killed all the fleas, with a full belly, twirling around my hand. I told her I would try and get some more rescue numbers from the front desk. I wasn’t sure what else to do.

The receptionist looked at me quizzically. “She doesn’t want to take the cat home, does she?” she asked. I shrugged. Humans stink. The receptionist tilted her head and said, “That cat is so sweet. FOCAS will take him. And if not, I’ll foster him.” The other receptionist chimed in that she, too, would be willing to do that.

The woman who brought the cat in was obviously relieved. Without blinking an eye, she offered to pay for all the preventive care the cat needed that day, so he would get a fresh start in his foster home. She felt guilty, she said, that she couldn’t do more….but she did something. She played a part. And because of her the cat is now warm and cozy in a safe place instead of hungry, sick and ignored in the 100 degree heat. His fresh start was also my own, to never forget that for every awful moment that makes you dislike your fellow man, another will come along to restore your faith in people’s ability to do good and kind things in this world.

Jesvet