Yesterday's veterinary clinic event was both short and sad. Short because there was only one surgery, so I watched that (boxer puppy's spaying, awww, how cute), and then left, but sad because (short story) a stray had a broken leg that the clinic couldn't fix.

Now, for the long story. The humane society brought in this stray dog that had been hit by a car, and had a broken leg. The dog was very sweet and didn't really seem to be in any pain, although he must have been. So we plan on fixing the leg, but we call the humane society to verify it, and they say not to bother, because it would cost too much, and after the requisite 6 days that they have to keep the stray, they're just going to put it to sleep anyway, could we just give him something for the pain? So everybody at the clinic is understandably shocked and disgusted that the humane society would do this, so we call them again to make sure and let them know that they do automatically get a discount, do they understand that? Yes, they do, but okay, since we keep bugging them, check the dog for heartworm. If the test is positive, then absolutely no surgery, but if it's negative, then maybe.

We test the dog for heartworm (they let *me* draw the blood, whoo hoo), and find out it's negative. Good news, right? Well, we call back the humane society and tell them the good news and in the meantime, we put the dog under, and we set him up to get an x-ray. The woman on the other line at the humane society says that she spoke with a higher-up, and they said no, still don't bother doing the surgery, just give him something for the pain, and bring him back over.

So no surgery for this beautiful dog who was sweet and nice and at the whim of a person who had no sympathy for him. Feh.

Day two of watching surgeries in the vet clinic occurred today and another victory was had! Yay! This time it was a spaying of a stray cat somebody had brought in, then a neutering of a Humane Society dog that somebody was going to adopt, and then the declawing of a cat.

The weird thing about declawing is that I always thought I was against it. I mean, I knew that it involved cutting off the knuckles, and I couldn't believe that people could be so cruel. And then when I would volunteer at vet clinics, and just see the after-effects of the declawing (the bandages around the cat's paws, the bleeding sometimes when the bandages were removed, the tenderness with which the cat afforded its paws, etc.), I was even more so against declawing. But then today when I was watching the actual declawing, I wasn't as grossed out as I thought I would be. The cat was thoroughly anesthetized, and the veterinarian clamped the nail right where it hit the cartilege or bone (you know, the part where if you cut too near it, your cat or dog will cry out in pain and it may bleed), and then started sawing away at the first knuckle. She had previously put a tourniquet around the cat's elbow, so there was very little bleeding when she cut off the knuckle. After cutting off the parts that she wanted, a vet tech put some glue (not Elmer's, just in case you were a goof and thinking that) on where the bone was cut and then pushed the skin around it to close it up. Then the vet bandaged the paws and there you go.

But it wasn't only that the surgery wasn't as bad as I thought (although, gentle readers, you may have a different opinion), but Albert pointed out to me that while he's not entirely for the whole procedure, if declawing means that a cat will stay with a family instead of being abandoned to the streets or to an animal shelter where it may be put to sleep, then he's all for it. Surprisingly, I had never thought of it that way, and that helped ease my mind, since before I had had absolutely no thinking of why declawing could be good (for that cat, that is. I know people seem to think their furniture is more important than a living, breathing animal, but that's another rant).

It's nice to learn something new and grow wiser from it.

I did end up watching a couple of surgeries in a veterinary clinic on Monday. I am very proud to say that I did absolutely fine. The first one was a repair of a fractured bone in a Weimeraner (sp?), and I couldn't watch all of it, but the parts I did watch I was fine with. Then a neutering, and not only did I watch, but I leaned in real close and was asking the vet all sorts of questions, it was great. Then the removal of a lump on a cat's neck, which turned out to be a gun pellet (poor baby), and then it was time for me to leave.

But then (and here's the cool part) my dad offered to have me watch a surgery he was doing later that night, so I said okay, and met him at the hospital and got into the OR scrubs and went into the operating room and watched the entire surgery (not that it was heart surgery or anything; it was just the insertion of two cathetors (sp?) and the removal of an infected cathetor), and didn't feel faint once! How awesome is that? Last time I watched a surgery, I couldn't even sit in the room, and what I did see was from far away. So I'm extremely proud of myself for that. Go me!

"Tonight, I'll plunder heaven blind!
Steal from all the gods!
Tonight, I'll take from all mankind
Conquer all the odds!

And I feel I"ll live on forever
With Satan himself by my side!
And I'll show the world
That tonight and forever
The name to remember's
The name Edward Hyde"

I was listening to "Jekyll & Hyde: the gothic musical thriller" in my car today as I was driving home from school, and while I always love those above lines, I decided today was the day to post them on my blog. Aren't you excited?

I feel that I was misnamed. I think that in the alternate universe that exists parallel to ours, my name is Melissa. Not because I love that name or anything, but on two completely separate occasions, people have called me Melissa. I must look like a Melissa. Take a gander over to my main page with my picture on it and let me know what you think, because I don't think I look like a Melissa. Of course, I don't know what I look like. I'd like to be known as just Lane, but that's never gonna happen. If I ever become famous, I'll make my stage name/pen name/whatever name Lane something, and then I'll be happy. Then I can sign autographs using Lane. Yay.

appurtenance, n:
1. An adjunct; an accessory; something added to another, more important thing.
2. [Plural]. Accessory objects; gear; apparatus.
3. [Law]. An incidental right attached to a principal property right for purposes such as passage of title, conveyance, or inheritance.