Category: Everything else

Prior to vet school, as many of you know, I was a dolphin trainer. After 6 years of slinging fish and dodging lightning in Florida, it was time to move on. As I quickly learned, dolphin training prepares you to do…well, absolutely nothing else in life.

Could I determine which little snot-nosed kid would likely kick Diego (dolphin) in the eye-yes.

Could I escape a naked man hug from “Skip”-yes.

Could I pick out which dad would likely drown before using a life jacket-yes.

But as they say- “you know when it’s time to move on.” I had to pick up some classes in Florida so that I was eligible for vet school. So during my time working, I was also attending UCF. Applications were ridiculous-I was a Canadian on an expiring visa looking to stay in the US to go to vet school. This is less than ideal. Finished applications and ultimately had interviews with Western University and Michigan State.

Michigan State was first-didn’t know what to expect. They placed us in a room. 8-10 candidates, all feverishly reviewing potential questions and me. I introduced myself to a nice lady up front in the office and sat with her and answered phone calls.

Then the interview- I believe there were 3 doctors, all very accomplished, and again me.

“So- Jason, what journals do you read?”

“Does Ranger Rick count?”

Long pause- then laughter.

Somehow they still wanted me for their class of 2010.

Western University was second. Again- didn’t know what to expect, but sitting outside the interview room, I met my friend Phil Mar (who I called Veggie Phil for a few years, until he proved not to be a vegetarian). He was as tired as I was, we bonded instantly.

We both got in.

I finished up my time at Sea World and off I went to the west coast. In my final days, I was left with a lasting line from my friend Shelley Samm

“Western University? That’s a practice vet school right? Not a real school yet?”

This is a strange one- everyone understands how hard it is to let go of a pet when the time comes, but this was the first time I couldn’t convince the owners that their dog was dead.

I get a call around 11pm on a Friday evening.

11pm: How can I help

“Our dog isn’t doing well, he seems dehydrated?”

Ok-bring him in and we will take a look.

“You can fix him right?”

Come in and we will take a look, ok?

“Ok- but we aren’t ready for him to die”

About an hour later, an early 90s Prius quietly pulls into the parking lot. The owners walk in with a cooler. Strange I think to myself as the nurse seats them in a room. I walk in to see an older couple holding a cooler. Hoping to find a 6 pack of Hawaiian Punch- I was shocked to see their decrepit Sheltie mix board stiff on a bed of ice.

I looked in the cooler- then back at the owners- back at the cooler-then back at the owners. They clearly had to know their dog was dead, right?

Hi, I’m Jason, one of the doctors, what is going on this evening?

“Our dog is sick- he has kidney disease, can you give him subcutaneous fluids?”

Ummm, he’s dead.

“No he’s not, he just needs fluids to perk up”

Now at this point I realized that what was the truth, and what the people perceived as the truth was going to be a sticking point.

I can’t give your dead dog fluids, if you would like to try another emergency clinic maybe they will.

“Our dog isn’t dead, you are a liar, and we are leaving.”

Good luck

30 minutes later I get a call from another clinic where my friend was working.

“Hey man- did you send a dead dog over for SQ fluids?”

Yes-why?

“I hate you”

Haha!

It’s always interesting when people ask, “what kind of dog should I get?”. Quite frankly I am probably the worst at identifying breeds of dogs. I tend to lump them into categories based on how they act overnight in the hospital.

The first category being “you will bark all night”

This category includes: all white dogs under 10lbs, German Shepherds, Huskies, any dog named Gucci, Princess or Precious, and always without fail the dog that the owner claims is perfect away from home.

The second category is the “I won’t pee outside, but will act like a psycho with a garden hose when you get me back in the cage”

This group that the nurses love includes: all dogs over 80lbs (they typically have had knee surgery and don’t want to walk), German Shepherds, and all little dogs where the owner claims they have a “command” that you need to use outside for them to pee.

The third category- “cage jumpers”

This is a sneaky group, again we find our friend the German Shepherd, death wish breeds like Pugs and Bulldogs (they don’t even have any face to soften the blow), and the purse dog (tiny Chihuahua that lives in a designer handbag).

The final category, we will just call “poop painters”

This is an extensive group- most dogs for that matter, they all seem to have their own unique way on taking a dump, pacing through it, and finding some way to get it all over you. We had a phone a work somehow get tangled into a real stinky mess one night.

So when asked what dog to get…

Get a cat.

This just happened last weekend, and it honestly is the most bizarre thing that has ever happened to me since being a vet…or alive. As most overnight veterinarians will attest to, between the hours of 2am and 6am things wind down and there is often a chance to get a nap. Napping can and does happen wherever. Some doctors get a bed (rare), some sleep on the quiet room couch, an air mattress on the floor, “two chairs and a wall to lean on” (it works), computer keyboard (hurts the back), or on the CT table (very cold). On this particular evening-a cold leather couch was where I was headed. As I kicked off my shoes and folded myself in, the security guard started pulling on the nearby door. I motioned for him to go around as we were only using one entrance with Covid screening. He proceeded to walk around the building and back to where I was.

“Can’t use that door- need to screen everyone in and out” I said.

“Who are you?” the security guard fired back.

While there were far funnier things I could have said, I stuck with “overnight doctor, your key fob won’t work on that door.”

He sharply turned toward the door and muttered “security goes where it wants”, and pushed through the door.

While it was a little alarming as to how he acted, sleep was far more important that playing Courtesy Crusader and moments later I was out.

Fast forward an hour- while a pocket flashlight pierces through my eyes, I hear someone yelling, “Get up! Get up!”

I open my eyes to see the same law-abiding security guard pointing his flashlight at me continuing on with taunts to get up.

“Hey man-what the hell are you doing?!” I asked in amazement.

“You need to get up and get out of the building, you can’t be here?”

“Again-what the hell are you talking about? Go call you superior, maybe they can explain…” he cut me off abruptly.

“If you won’t get up and leave, I’m calling the police!”

“Please do…” And he went back through the forbidden door to call the police.

Now I wasn’t sure at this moment what I was going to do. I could A) wait for the police and let them see me in scrubs with my name on them, B) go home, as instructed by the security guard, or C) have the nurses go and tell this lunatic that I really was the doctor.

After much debate, the nurses went and explained to the guard who I was, he called the police back (they had a chuckle), and we made sure to take away his keys to the building and his door fob.

Only on overnights…