Tag: pets

#TRYHARDSZN2024: the blind veterinarian

~ dannyhong ~ Leave a comment

No offense, but I’ll take my pets elsewhere: Texas woman accepted into the Texas Tech School of Veterinary Medicine

Okay, so this isn’t a story about some overachieving youth applying to all of the Ivy Leagues and 75+ other schools just to see how many acceptances they can get so that they can humble brag about them on the internet, but I still felt it warranted the pound sign, because the fact that someone who is legally blind is determined to be a veterinarian is pretty bonkers in my opinion.

Don’t get me wrong, I respect determination, perseverance and chasing a dream; but when it comes to the care of my pets, I most definitely am not thinking twice about looking for an alternate opinion if I knew that my veterinarian, were blind.

I admire this girl’s determination and her positive mentality, but the reality is that if I have a pet going through some health problems, I’m going to have a hard time accepting the words and analysis of someone who can’t really see what they’re dealing with, with my pets.  I can’t believe that they’re going to be like fucking Daredevil, and have the ability to sonar my dog’s kidney issues, or my cat’s urinary tract infection, and that their other senses will be hyper productive to where they don’t need eyesight to be able to do their job.

And she wants to be a mixed-animal vet, that cares for large and small animals, which is to say she wants to take care of horses and goats and other animals that are outside the typical veterinary realm of dogs and cats.  Like, what is she going to do when she is called to check up on a skittish horse or goat and gets the fuck kicked out of her because she can’t really see it escalating.

No offense, but it just seems like not the wisest career choice in the world in my opinion.  There are all sorts of other occupations out in the world that someone with limited sight can do, while not being responsible for the life of another living being.

But hey, I’m just a rando guy on the internet with no readers, typing away into the aether for over twenty years.  But what this girl is doing, insisting on following a career path where the ability to see is generally among the unwritten top job qualifications, definitely constitutes #TRYHARDSZN2024.

Hands-free dog leashes annoy me

~ dannyhong ~ Leave a comment

Of course, as the world turns, I age, and new things come into existence, I often ponder and judge what of these new things are actually cool and/or useful, and what new things are stupid and inherently obnoxious.

Like e-bikes, my knee-jerk reaction to bicycles that have small motors in them that allow the riders to have some assistance when it comes to dealing with hills and fatigue, my first thought was that people needed to stop being pussies and learn how to pedal and overcome their own physical limitations.  But then I thought about the potential about how it would be pretty awesome to bicycle the entire length of the Silver Comet Trail and back and that an e-bike would probably make that way more likely possible than not, and my attitude changed.  I concluded that e-bikes are inherently cool, but it’s a case-by-case basis in which it is determined on whether the rider is being a lazy pussy, or is someone who is in harmony with their physical capabilities along with a little bit of motorized assistance.

But hands-free dog leashes?  Yeah no, there’s little positive rationalization for these things needing to exist.  I think they’re the epitome of laziness, and act as a disservice to dogs themselves, allowing their shithead owners to be lazy and inattentive while they are getting the walks that they typically need in order to be healthy.

Because make no mistake, there’s not a single part of me that doesn’t believe that these weren’t created so that people walking their dogs could dick around on their phones with both of their hands and not be so encumbered by the responsibility of controlling their dog with one hand.

As if walking a dog with a traditional, hand-in leash is at all that hard in the first place, a bunch of lazy fucks have to go creating leashes that are worn around the waist or slung over the shoulder, so that your hands are free to surf the internet on your phone instead of paying attention to your dog?  Get the fuck out of here, that is lazy, that is negligent, and increases the chances that you’ll allow your dog to drop a deuce in someone else’s yard and “forget” to clean it because you didn’t see it because you were too fucking busy scrolling Instagram or some other inane internet bullshit.

There’s someone in my neighborhood who walks their dog with one of these leashes, which is how I came to know of their existence in the first place.  And although she herself is a fairly pleasant neighbor, I’ve noticed that when she’s walking her dog with this leash, she’s completely spatially unaware, and doesn’t get the fuck out of the way or give any courtesy space to cars on the road.  All I want to do is judge her, and other people who walk their poor dogs without giving them the sparsest amount of attention that they really need in order to feel like they’re actually in a relationship with their owners.

Either way, these types of leashes are bullshit, and I judge the fuck out of anyone who walks their dogs with them.  The only instances where I could find these remotely acceptable are with paraplegics with no arms in the first place; sure, it begs the question on how they’d even leash a dog and equip the belt, but the point is that only someone with no arms at all seems like the only logical type of person who would warrant needing a hands-free leash in the first place.

:(

~ dannyhong ~ Leave a comment

A reminder that popped up in my phone today.

Don’t really have the heart to delete the occurrence, despite knowing that if I don’t, it’ll pop up again next month, and the month after that, to remind me that my sweet boy is no longer with me.

Happy trails, Chase the Face

~ dannyhong ~ Leave a comment

I told myself to not write anything before the fact, because that would be time spent on myself and not hanging out with the Face.  I still have no idea how people do this, where they schedule the euthanization of their pets, and then literally manage to operate their lives knowing there is a very real clock ticking down the remainder of their life.

Needless to say, the time between making the call to the vet and to the eventual saying of goodbye to my dog, has been real hazy, but fortunately for me, I’m the type of person who can throw themselves into work, just so that I don’t have to think about the anxieties of something like having to put my dog down.

Here’s a fun fact about me, Chase is actually the first dog that I’ve ever own, myself.  Every pet I’ve had in the past was either inherited, temporary or technically belonged to someone else, but not actually mine.  Chase was the first dog that I’ve ever adopted, paid for, and been solely responsible for in my entire life.

I adopted him on May 16, 2012, from the Atlanta Humane Society.  My home had always had dogs in it, and when it stopped having dogs in it, it felt like there was something missing.  I was single with no prospects at this time, so having a dog seemed like a no-brainer as far as unconditional companionship was concerned, and I wanted to adopt a rescue because I just felt that it was a more responsible thing to do, seeing as how the pet population is pretty out of control in general.

I had visited a couple of shelters leading up to eventually going to the Humane Society, and when I met Wind Chaser, I kind of felt pretty quickly that this was the dog that I wanted to adopt.  Say what you will about my general preference in dogs, maybe it’s an Asian thing or maybe it’s just me, but this maltese/shih tsu mix just kind of spoke to me.  So I paid the adoption fee in an Amazon donation, and shortened to Chase, was now my dog.

Continue reading “Happy trails, Chase the Face” →

How does one schedule the ending of a life?

~ dannyhong ~ Leave a comment

As I posted about a little while ago, my dog is not well.  He was diagnosed with cancer a little over a month ago, and has a tumor that has been rapidly growing since then.  I got a second opinion to see if this were something that could be operated on, but the combination of the growth of the tumor, his age, and his heart, it was a no-brainer that he was not a good surgery candidate, and that this was a situation to simply just try to keep him comfortable for however long he has left.

It’s been about a month, and the fact that I’m writing this at all should be enough to know just how well things have gone.  The tumor has been growing and is protruding visibly.  Chase’s appetite has been gradually decreasing, to which to me is the #1 thing to know when it’s time to start reflecting on mortality, and his physical behavior has decreasing.  His hips have occasionally given out on him, requiring me to pick him up and put him in the grass to relieve himself, if he isn’t unloading where he settles in the first place.

One of the things I told myself when I realized that the clock was counting down was that I did not want to keep my dog alive for the sake of myself.  Once his quality of life was starting to really not be so great would be the point where I would do him the courtesy of letting him bow out gracefully and with his dignity, and not when he was frail, immobile and already starving to death.  This is a mistake I’ve made in the past, and it is something that I did not want to repeat, because it’s not fair to our pets to do such selfish things.

It’s been a lot of reflecting over the last few days, but this is where I think I am with my journey with Chase now.  His appetite is dwindling, his activity is becoming more sedentary, and as noted, his legs are starting to fail him.  In spite of his documented heart issues, his heart is not failing him, but the rest of his body is really starting to.  He’s attentive and his mind is still clearly with us, and this would be a whole lot simpler to do if it weren’t, but that’s just the cruelty of life sometimes.

The thing is, in all the pets I’ve ever had or been a part of their lives, death has always been kind of a in-the-moment thing.  They’ve never dropped dead in front of me, but typically things have occurred that made it very clear that the time was now, to say goodbye.  No real time to think about it, just act, and do them the solid of not letting them suffer.

I’ve never been in a scenario where I’ve had the time to contemplate and make the decision, much less call the vet to schedule, the literal ending of a life, and it feels completely bonkers that this is something that people actually do all around the world.  But here we are.

It sucks because it feels like there’s a degree of convenience, of washing my hands of the responsibility and care needed, and I’m constantly talking to myself to remind myself that it’s for his sake that we’re doing this.  Put a merciful end to the suffering of cancer spreading and taking parts of his body offline.  Suppressing a once-healthy appetite.  Making him unable to sprint circles around me while I held the leash with amusement at his energy and vitality.  I’d be lying if I said that there wouldn’t be some relief of the absolving of some duties, but it’s never worth the ceasing of a life, but the flip side to that, is that I’d be forcing a dog to stay alive for my sake and not his, and that’s precisely what I’m trying to avoid.

All the same, I’ve made up my mind, and I have to stick with it.  Short of the cure to cancer being released into the air and the discovery of the fountain of youth, applicable to dogs as well, there’s not much that’s going to turn this back, nor should there be.  My boy has lived a lengthy life, been an unforgettable companion through a substantial chunk of my own life, and it’s time to let him go and sprint as many circles around the afterlife as he wants, before he abruptly stops to drop the biggest poop a dog of his size has any business dropping.

I don’t want to be an emotional vampire

~ dannyhong ~ Leave a comment

Since starting my new job, things haven’t been easy.  I was provided the wrong laptop from the very start, which inhibited my ability to do the core of my work functions from the onset.  My household also (likely) contracted the ‘Rona, which I’ve already said my piece about multiple times already, but I didn’t want to bring that up just when I was starting my new job, fortunately everything’s been remote still to this point.

Then, there was the bullet I realized that I had avoided from the old job with numerous of my former colleagues and reports getting axed that fucked my head up, because I’ve come to the realization that my shitty old boss knew this was coming and had been planning for this for a while, and I just so happened to have gotten out before the hammer fell, but it doesn’t change the fact that I have survivor’s guilt as well as feel like some of my old reports are accusing me of knowing it was coming and not telling them, which couldn’t be any further from the truth.

More recently, I’ve found out that my dog has cancer, and until I get an ultrasound, won’t really know the full extent of what we’re dealing with, but given the fact that he’s like 16 years old, things aren’t looking too optimistic right now.

All while my second child is still a living nightmare when it comes to sleeping, as it’s feeling nigh impossible to put her down for naps while I’m on the clock at work, and I can’t expect my nanny to handle the two under two remotely competently without compromising the care on one of them.

Needless to say, things have been pretty rough on my side, while I’m on the clock, but the difference now is that I’m the new guy at a job I’ve just started, versus being the guy on his way out of a job I couldn’t wait to get the fuck out of.  My flakiness now, I give a shit about, and feel like shit that I’m being flaky, because my head’s not on straight because of all the bullshit going on and/or my youngest being a gargantuan cockblock for my ability to work, because there’s no way I can concentrate on work when she’s screaming bloody murder instead of taking a fucking nap.

My new boss is chill, and probably would be understanding to some of the shit I’m going through, seeing as she has children and dogs, and clearly isn’t the micromanager that has it out for me in the first place.  But at the same time, I don’t want to unload all this baggage when I haven’t even completed my first month with the company.

Although I’m sure I would be okay and probably get some leniency and empathy, I just don’t want to be like the emotional vampire from What We Do In the Shadows, the girl who was Colin Robinson’s office rival-then-fling, who always had some unfortunate shit happening to her, so she could siphon off the emotional energy of all the people in the office.  Because that’s what I feel like I would be, if I would make too much of my bullshit known, and I don’t want to give that off, when I’m still in the stage where I’m still making first impressions everywhere I go.

But it really does suck just how inhibited I am sometimes while I’m on the clock, because I really do want to hit the ground running and do better than I feel I’m doing now.  Ironically, as much as I don’t want to go back in to the office, I feel like my productivity has a ceiling while I’m at home, and if I really want to shine at new job, I think I’m going to eventually have to embrace the need to go back.

My boy isn’t well

~ dannyhong ~ Leave a comment

Today, I found out that my dog basically has cancer.  I kind of knew this was going to be the case, because when things like a hard lump that kind of grew out of nowhere are in play, the conclusion seems kind of forgone, but it doesn’t make it suck any less when the vet tells you it’s a tumor, and the real question really being just how bad of a cancer we’re dealing with here.

It’s funny, because I had the new vet at my clinic, the one with the least tenure there, which explains why she has the Saturday afternoon shift, but I was just glad that I was able to take my dog in at all today to get checked out in the first place.  But she’s pretty young, I imagine she doesn’t have the experience as some of the other doctors at the clinic do, so when she’s explaining things to me, she’s using a lot of technical and medical terminology, and seemingly avoiding use of the dreaded C-word.

It isn’t until I explain to her that a lot of the terminology is going over my head, and I couldn’t help but notice the seemingly deliberate avoidance of using the word “cancer,” and that I would really appreciate a little more dumbed down explanation of what’s going on.  The tech leaves the room at this point for some reason, and the doc is a little more clearer with the explanation, and I feel like I have a little more understanding of the situation to where I can at least brog about it.

The lump is definitely a tumor, but the clinic doesn’t have the on-site resources to do anything beyond a cursory examination, and sending out slides is really the only way we’re all going to get some more accurate clarity to what we’re dealing with.  Given the circumstances of how it appeared to have appeared and grown fairly rapidly over the span of the last two months, things don’t appear to be very optimistic, but again, never going to know until we get some more concrete evidence.

It doesn’t help the fact that my boy is anywhere from 15-17 years old, which is well at or past life expectancy for his general breed, and the fact that he also has a grade-4 heart murmur.  Adding cancer on top of it is like a fucked up cherry on top, but him being the goodest boy on the face of the planet, is still acting fairly normal, his behavior and temperament are still his usual cheerful self, and he’s eating, drinking, pooping and peeing as a normal dog would.  Even the girl doing clean-up in the lobby was astounded to hear that he’s (estimated) 16 years old.

But that’s where we’re at right now.  My good boy is not doing well, in spite of the pep he continues to exhibit.  Regardless of what the full diagnosis is going to be, the options are not many, nor are they even likely to work, if they’re even possible at all.  At his age, it’s not lost on me that we’re definitely in the final act of his expected lifespan, but it never doesn’t suck for pet owners to come to grips with the mortality of their companions, and all I can really think about are all the things I feel guilty to him about not being a better owner; like an asshole, thinking about myself, when he’s the one dealing with fucking cancer, and no-selling it like Hercules vs. Sid because he’s the best dog there is and he’s showing way more strength than I am, and doesn’t even realize it.

But he’s not gone yet, and hopefully my life can get its shit together enough to make the even more likely limited time I have with him somewhat better and rewarding.  Two years ago, I had concerns on whether or not he’d last long enough to get a picture with my first daughter with a shirt that had a dog that looked a lot like him on it.  Not only did we get a good picture, there’s now second daughter in the equation, and here’s hoping that we can repeat that history with her.