I've volunteered at a few small animal clinics over the years, and worked for several months as a receptionist in one, but I have never worked as a technician. For any of you who don't know, a technician is essentially a veterinary nurse. They are the ones who talk to you about your pets problems, administer vaccines, and get temperatures and weights before the vet comes in to speak with you. I won't solely be performing this job over the summer--I will pretty much be a floater, working wherever the clinic needs an extra set o hands, but technician work will be part of it.
I've completed one week of working, and I've enjoyed myself. The clinic is a small one, with only one doctor who works there. We have a reception desk, small waiting area, and two rooms for seeing patients in the front. In the back, where only employees go, are the grooming area, treatment room, surgery room, ICU, x-ray, and kennel area. The doctor is an older gentleman, with a kind face and a bit of a blunt personality. The rest of the staff are women, most of us quite young, and it makes for an interesting environment to work in, very caring and light-hearted. Our clinic mascot is a nineteen year old cat whose thin skin and sparse hair seems tensely stretched over her old, pointy bones. She has big, yellow eyes, and a feeble but determined meow. She gets fluids given under her skin twice a day to keep her kicking, and she has an obsession with fast food. She has a tendency to be a very picky eater, and at this age, we humor that tendency. If she is not pleased with the food presented to her, she will follow the feeder around the clinic all day meowing expectantly, as if to say, "I am the queen, where is my salisbury steak?" I enjoy her immensely.
The days have not been too whirlwind yet, as the true summer busy season hasn't begun. I've given a few baths, helped with a few shots, cleaned kennels (one which I came into early morning full of explosive diarrhea--gross!), and worked the front desk. There is one particularly good story from the other day, however.
It was my first full day working at the clinic. I'd started the morning scrubbing kennels and doing laundry, and then I went out to reception when the door rang. A very kind lady had brought in a beautiful, white pyrenees mix who looked about like this, with a few light brown patches in his fur.
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He was obviously someone's pet. He had a continual smile on his face, loved people, and when asked to sit, he did so obediently. We asked him to lie down, but he didn't know that command. However, he obviously knew shake, as he kept sitting and then repeating the action over and over, especially when we praised him. He did not have a name on his collar, but did have a number on his rabies tag which would be unique to him. We put him in one of our kennels in the back, hoping to figure out who the owner was. The receptionist was unable to reach the person who could identify his owners, as they were unavailable all day, and he was not very happy being closed in for the day and continually filled the clinic with his loud barking. By the end of the day, we were still unable to get in touch with anyone. The veterinarian at the clinic would not allow him to stay overnight, and if we were to call animal control, he'd be put on a list and confiscated if he was found outside his home again. I couldn't bear that thought, and so I offered to take him home for the evening. I'd let him sleep in a horse stall in my barn and bring him back to the clinic in the morning. I loaded him up in my car , which quickly became covered in white hairs. I sat him in the back seat, hoping he'd lie down or look out the window on the drive home. He started out with his face out the window but was soon very eager to be near me, so he ambled up to the front seat, tripping over his large front feet every time I had to hit the breaks. He went between sticking his face into the wind and trying to climb into my lap as I held up my hand and told him, "No." He loved to be petted and talked to. I was very happy to have his company and was happy to be helping him out. However, after driving about 20 minutes home and getting on my street, I received a call from the clinic. The receptionist was able to get in touch with the dog's owner and they were very eager to get him home. I spoke with them and offered to meet them halfway. I turned the car around and drove right back in the direction of work. I waiting in pre-determined parking lot, petting the dog and loving on him for a few minutes before a family of wife, husband, daughter, and friend showed up beside me, eagerly saying, "Biscuit! Oh, Biscuit!" He seemed quite happy to see them with tail wagging, and he hopped out of my life and back into his family's. They had been driving around looking for him for hours, and I was so happy to have helped get him home. What a joy it is to regain something you love that you've lost.
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