the dead and the dying

people cry at my job. on a regular basis. their eyes well up. they weep. they use tissues. often times they sob uncontrollably.
this is what happens at my job.
it is not until these moment i realize what an unusual job i have.
i knew these things would happen when i decided on this field. i knew the level of heartbreak and sadness before i even stepped through the door. but i made it a part of my daily life anyway.
when it happens, even if it's expected, it always blindsides me. it sneaks up on me like a practical joke, but never elicits a laugh.
growing up, i considered my dog an integral part of my life. she was a member of the family. i'm not so sure i was her favorite, however. you see, i used to dress her up in doll clothes and carry her around like a baby. she loved my father the most. it was so easy to see.
but i wasn't so much a part of her life. i was very young when she was introduced to me and i lead a relatively normal childhood life; i went to school, did homework, hung out with friends. the dog, as i saw it, was my parents' responsibility.
i wasn't even living at home when she died.
my mother called me...said my father was taking her in. she was an old dog by then. she'd had a good run. these realizations didn't make anything any easier. she was buried where she lived. there is a spot in the flower bed i visit every time i go home: pepper.
i consider myself a very compassionate person. i have empathy. i can feel others' pain. but when you see as much death and dying as i do, you develop a tolerance for it. jesus, that sounds cold. just reading that makes me feel heartless.
i can't cry for every animal that doesn't make it. i can't cry for every family's decision. i can't shed tears for every dog or cat that passes on. if i did, i'd never make it in this business.
don't get me wrong, i am most definitely sad for each pet. i can't say the same for each family. some of these families let it get this bad. they neglected or were irresponsible and as a result, they lose a pet.
sometimes i see that as a personal 'fuck you' from their pet and from me.
if they are going to treat their pet like shit, they don't deserve to have it. sometimes these dogs and cats have spent so much neglected time in pain and misery so the only humane thing to do is to end it all.
but there are those moments you know are coming. you know it's just a matter of time. this dog or cat is very much a member of the family and these people love it more than they can describe. they have gone above and beyond to give it the life it has deserved.
but life, as it has a habit of doing, ends.
those are the moments that break me down.
imagine: 14+ years with an animal. waking up every morning and seeing it's trusting eyes, feeling it's tongue on your face, it's paws on your chest. imagine: playing tug-o-war with it's favorite rope and fetch with it's favorite ball. imagine: long walks to the park and car rides with it's head hanging out of the window. imagine: the purr that says, "you're my favorite." then imagine that moment when you have to say goodbye. that one moment when you wish they could reply to you when you said, "i love you, i'm sorry. i'll miss you."
it's a sadness and desperation i can't even begin to put into words.
that sadness and desperation is completely indescribable when it's your boss's or co-worker's pet.
i knew going into this that i'd be dealing with strangers' grief. nothing prepared me for the grief of my co-workers.
she'd had him forever it seemed. he'd been with her since day one. he was the last of the "original crew". but he was giving her clues.
he'd been through so much. this time last year he was trying to go. strokes, seizures, arthritis...you name it. but he was still the bumbling idiot dog that loved her so much.
it was no longer fun for him to be a dog. she knew that. we all knew it. and that seems to be our line to cross: when it's no longer fun to be an animal, we need to do what's expected of us. we have the power to let them go with good memories.
there was nobody around but the three of us. it's almost as if everyone knew to just stay away for a moment. she was so stoic about it all...that is her personality. i wrapped my arms around his big head and gave him a kiss on his temple. his arm was shaved and prepped. she held his face in her hands and told him what a good boy he was. she kissed him on his nose; that space just between his eyes (the perfect spot).
and then he was gone.
just gone.
and as soon as he was gone, so was she. out the door. long drive home. beers to be had that night. memories running rampant.
i could not stop myself. i wept. i sobbed. i didn't even try to hide it from my co-workers. we all try to be so tough...to not let things get to us.
this was getting to me. it got me and it still has me.
i have been down this road before. now, as an adult, i have lost pets of my own. i lost finnegan. he was my fluffy orange cat with a personality like no other.
out of nowhere he shrunk to almost half his body weight. they tried everything. he'd contracted a terminal disease. it won. he lost. i still miss him.
people cry at my job. i cry at my job. i can never predict when it's going to happen, but i know it will happen.
this job puts my life into perspective. whether it's with our pets, our family, our spouses, our girlfriends or boyfriends. this is our only life. someday someone will grieve for us. until then, i plan on wearing my heart firmly on my sleeve and making sure those around me know just how much i care for them.
and i'll cry whenever i need to. no matter where i am.

it's kind of like make-believe

i live alone. i've tried it all so far. lived at home, moved out with my older brother, lived with boyfriends, friends, french families and alone again. i walk around my apartment and sometimes i forget it's real. i'm not pretending and it's not make-believe. this is my space with my things, my pets and my particular silence. i'm not acting like an adult with my own place. i am an adult with my own place. inside these walls i do what i like. i'm responsible for the music filling these rooms, the meals made in the kitchen and the sleep i may or may not get in my bed. i forget my age at times. i forget all the things i've done to get me where i am today. i do remember, however, the simple wish most kids have when they're stuck living at home with their parents: i just want my own place. i want to be the boss of me.

work schmurk

i really don't want to go in today. i just don't. i'm not into it and there's nothing i can do about it. i'd rather sit on my couch or lay in my bed all day today than go in and deal with angry animals and testy doctors. it seems that's all i do all day. i tiptoe around doctors and coworkers that are in bad moods and i get bit and scratched by pissed off kitties and dogs. i get peed on, puked on, shit on, and come home covered in fur. i feel i owe my own pets an explanation...like they think i've been cheating on them; spending time with other animals. i've watched reality shows set in clinics and i always thought a show like that would never work at my clinic. the entire show would end up being a bunch of moaners complaining about their wage versus their workload. i really feel i work in a field (or maybe just a hospital) that doesn't understand how crucial my role is. i work so hard but don't get compensated nearly enough. the place wouldn't run if it weren't for employees in my position.
i feel like i'm getting nowhere.

words

i was sitting on my couch tonight with scott watching "the blacklist" on hbo. it was something i was looking forward to watching and i'm glad i had the chance. dinner was over, so we were able to give it our full attention (well, almost full attention - jackie and arthur needed love, after all). in the interviews, one of my favorite words was spoken : dissent. it's such a powerful word. it's a very matter-of-fact word. even the very sound it makes when coming out of your mouth has an effect. i should make note of my favorite words. maybe that way i'd be prepared if i ever ran into james lipton.

first timer

i have never done this before; had a blog. to be honest, i have been known to be at least a little resistant to technology. i wouldn't go so far as to say i'm afraid of it...just hesitant. i have kept written journals in the past, but i now see the blog as a modern-day diary. it can be as arbitrary or as personal as i want. so this is me: arbitrary and personal. i usually have a lot of thoughts swimming around in my head and i'm hoping this format will allow some of these thoughts to slow down and come out of the water. i called this blog hold very still for a reason. i've watched our culture pick up speed. we move so quickly. we miss so much. we are all too busy looking ahead that we forget to notice what is surrounding us.
so, i'll use this blog to talk about whatever is going on in my life and in my head. who knows if it will ever be read and frankly i don't care one way or the other. i am going to continue to write and maybe someday i'll find my stride.