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So often I write about frustrating cases, annoying clients, depressing situations, and troubles at work. While I was chatting at work yesterday I mentioned to one of the nurses that there *are* good clients and good cases with happy endings; we just tend not to remember them as readily. I want to try to change that for myself - and I had a good reminder this week of just such a case.
About a month ago, a client came to one of the clinics that I frequently work at, with a stray cat she had adopted. The cat was shy, and skinny, and extremely pregnant, and only questionably tame, but this person had gone out of her way to earn her trust and bring her in for any health care she needed. Luckily, other than a few superficial and common stray-cat problems, she was remarkably healthy, and I sent her on her way with the proper treatments and some advice on What To Expect When Your Cat Is Expecting.
Earlier this week, when I was back at the same clinic, I wandered in to see an appointment listed on the schedule as 'kitten check eye' and found myself confronting the same momma cat, this time surrounded by nearly half a dozen small balls of fluff. The client's face lit up when she saw me, almost as proud of the furry family as if she had delivered the kittens herself, and she promptly regaled me with tales of the kittens' birth. The mother cat spent the entire appointment sprawled in the large, well-padded carrier, alternating between smugly displaying her babies and occasionally tugging various misbehaving youngsters hither and yon for nursing or grooming.
And the kittens.... oh, geez, the kittens. Two weeks old, give or take a few days. Their eyes were open, but still a drastic shade of baby blue, and their ears weren't quite standing up yet. They were just starting to discover how to use their legs, and while they hadn't quite mastered standing, they were still managing to toddle back and forth over each other, rolling as often as walking. Little white fluffballs, and little orange fluffballs, and little grey fluffballs, all bright and curious and healthy, all with homes lined up, all just the perfect injection of cheerfulness and delight into an otherwise hectic, morbid day.
Nothing witty or wacky here, no morals to impart, nothing more deep or significant here. Just a happy client, and a proud momma, and a pile of kittens. That's all.
Appointments like that remind me of why I love my job.
About a month ago, a client came to one of the clinics that I frequently work at, with a stray cat she had adopted. The cat was shy, and skinny, and extremely pregnant, and only questionably tame, but this person had gone out of her way to earn her trust and bring her in for any health care she needed. Luckily, other than a few superficial and common stray-cat problems, she was remarkably healthy, and I sent her on her way with the proper treatments and some advice on What To Expect When Your Cat Is Expecting.
Earlier this week, when I was back at the same clinic, I wandered in to see an appointment listed on the schedule as 'kitten check eye' and found myself confronting the same momma cat, this time surrounded by nearly half a dozen small balls of fluff. The client's face lit up when she saw me, almost as proud of the furry family as if she had delivered the kittens herself, and she promptly regaled me with tales of the kittens' birth. The mother cat spent the entire appointment sprawled in the large, well-padded carrier, alternating between smugly displaying her babies and occasionally tugging various misbehaving youngsters hither and yon for nursing or grooming.
And the kittens.... oh, geez, the kittens. Two weeks old, give or take a few days. Their eyes were open, but still a drastic shade of baby blue, and their ears weren't quite standing up yet. They were just starting to discover how to use their legs, and while they hadn't quite mastered standing, they were still managing to toddle back and forth over each other, rolling as often as walking. Little white fluffballs, and little orange fluffballs, and little grey fluffballs, all bright and curious and healthy, all with homes lined up, all just the perfect injection of cheerfulness and delight into an otherwise hectic, morbid day.
Nothing witty or wacky here, no morals to impart, nothing more deep or significant here. Just a happy client, and a proud momma, and a pile of kittens. That's all.
Appointments like that remind me of why I love my job.
