Thursday May 22, 2003
In the spring of 1967 I got a job as
kennel boy for the local Coronado Veterinary Hospital. It was the hardest
job Iíve ever had and I worked there off and on for 3 years. I was still
keeping a journal at the time so eventually some of those stories may end up
here. (I know, I Know, I wrote the darn thing but I donít remember
what I put down and Iím not reading ahead until I transcribe it.)
It was an experience Iíll never forget
and I still have dreams where Iím back at the vet hospital doing my old
chores. Iím an animal lover and the experience deeply affected my outlook
on life. Unfortunately a lot of the memories arenít what you would call
upbeat, as I was usually dealing with pets who were sick and owners who had
to make very painful decisions.
When I took the job it was a dream come
true and I equated it to an all American clichť; kind of like Jimmy Stewart
having a wonderful life working in the malt shop of an all American town.
That image quickly faded when I experienced the realities of what was,
above all, a money making business.
The reason Iím bringing this up is
because I donít take pet ownership lightly and Iím thinking of adopting a
cat from the local human society. I havenít made up my mind but if I do go
through with it youíll be the first to know. Iíll try to keep the cat
pictures to a minimum. Some people have pets and some people have pets
who are part of the family. Guess which one I am. I'm still
mourning the loss of Clancy who disappeared in November.
Jeep, still waiting for a water pump