too good to pick up shit

so my local craigslist had an ad posted for "ranch helper wanted."  seeing as how i know how to do most of the shit that goes on on a ranch, i figured i should check it out.  the ad stated that they wanted someone to clean stalls, do turn outs, and other general barn chores for a few hours each weekend and they would pay $10.00 per hour.  oh and that they wanted someone who had horse experience.  so i'm thinking this is great, i have free time on weekends and i have tons of horse experience, this would be a good way to make some extra cash.  so i send them a copy of my "horse resume" and figure good things will come of this.    apparently not.  in response i got an e-mail that stated "i am afraid you are far too qualified for this position.  we are just looking for a weekend ranch help and it would only be for two hours each time you come.  i hope that you find a bigger ranch which can offer you better opportunities."  apparently i'm too good to pick up shit.  le sigh.  i really could have used the extra cash.  oh and the other ranch that i had applied to back in november that said i had "the perfect amount of experience" at my interview but then never called me back posted an ad again.  i just don't get it.

battle wounds

anyone want to guess what this is from?

so it seems like i get a new scar of some sort on a weekly bases.  considering that i work with animals and ride horses, this isn't a huge surprise.  what may come as a surprise is the source of most of my battle wounds.  lots of times i will become horrifically maimed and disfigured at work.  i may or may not be exaggerating a bit on that, it really depends on the day.  but when i show people those scrapes and scuffs, the most common question i get after is "was that from a cat scratch?"  and nine out of ten times, my answer will be a big, resounding NO! because nine out of ten times it was from a freakin little dog, typically some type of chihuahua or chihuahua mix.  if i'm lucky, it scabs up, scars over, and then  fades away into oblivion with my next sun burn.*  if i'm unlucky, it's still there nine freaking months later because that stupid dog decided to use my arm as a tree right before christmas and leave me with a nice purple scar on my left hand to show off in all the family photos. stupid little dogs.  this is why i want a great dane.

*if you haven't already noticed, i'm really, really white and i burn really, really easily.  stupid genetics. 

my favorite words ever

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so tonight i went to this dinner for work.  it was sponsored by some vendor trying to push their flea control product.  i honestly didn't care what they were talking about because all it meant to me was free steak dinner.  so me and one of the other ladies got there a little early because we figured we could chow down on the appetizers and knock back a few cocktails before this thing got started.  she was still debating if she wanted to drink, but i figured i have not been out drinking since march so i was allowed a cocktail with dinner.  i walk up to the bartender and ask him to make me a vodka sour.  i start to pull out my wallet, and he then tells me the most beautiful words "don't worry about that, the bar is hosted."  it took me a minute to process this.  i had to make sure that he had really, truly, for reals given me the green light to order stuff i couldn't afford.  once i had a moment to absorb this, i looked straight at him and told him to make it with grey goose.  i honestly don't remember the last time so few words have made me so happy.  i was so giddy i practically skipped back to the table.  only reason that i didn't was that i was not risking spilling one single drop of that most precious liquid.  i let the other woman know the good news, and she made a beeline for the bar.  the one down side is that i cut my self off at two drinks.  partly because i still had to drive my ass home after the presentation, and mostly because my boss was there also.  and considering that he doesn't drink at all ever, i thought getting tipsy in front of him might have several negative side effects.  but still, it was a free two drinks.  and the wonderful man behind the bar poured like my boys over at black sheep do.  and i can be happy with that.  i didn't even have to use my cleavage.

people suck

so we had this guy (and this term is used loosely because he should no be allowed to associate with the rest of the human race) call into our office this morning.  i didn't take the call, but i was standing next to my coworker who did, so i could hear most of what was going on.  apparently last tuesday the cops had show up to raid this beings house, and he had two ounces of cocaine in his possession.   he decided that he did not want to be caught with this and had to get rid of it.  instead of flushing it down the toilet, rinsing it down the sink, tossing it out a window, etc., he decided that the best way to dispose of it would be to feed it to his dog.  so he did.  two fucking ounces of cocaine to this poor dog.  apparently the dog has been throwing up and vomiting and not eating since then.  and this douche bag has "no money now" (i'm guessing since he spent it all on drugs) and wants us to tell him what to do with the dog.  our advise was to bring it to animal service and say he found it.  that way the dog at least had a shot at getting treated and maybe getting a non douche bag owner.  and if the dog was too far gone to save (drugs can cause really severe kidney and liver damage that can be irreversible), at least its' suffering would end quickly.  so yeah, this call, combined with the three positive cases of tetrahydrocannabino toxicity (marijuana)  that we have seen in the last two weeks just reaffirms how much people can suck.  so to all the people who are responsible and take care of their pets, i thank you.  to the bottom dwellers who think it's a good idea to give drugs to dogs, may you burn in hell.

so i got a new camera for christmas

and i'm using it to remind people to please trim their dogs' nails.  because if you don't, and they freak out when we try to take their temperature, then someone is going to have a limb that suffers.  such was the case last thursday.  some little dog decided to be ridiculously wiggly and pretty much just started to flail about when his temperature was being taken.  my left hand/wrist was the resulting casualty.  this picture is from like five minutes ago, so it's partially healed by this point.  it looked worse than it really was; it was pretty shallow and i didn't need stitches or anything.  but it still stung like hell when i had to clean it.  and the part over my wrist keeps getting stretched too far from just everyday activity.  and i have a tendency to use my injured body parts to located the nearest corner or door frame on a regular biases.  so while it is healing, it's doing so slowly.  so for the sake of my arms and any other arms of vet clinic employees, please try to trim your animals' nails before bringing them in.  we would all appreciate that.

a first for everything

today at work we had a client come in who had concerns about giving medications to  her dog.  this particular dog is ...... difficult ....... to give pills to. (and that's putting it very nicely.  you really don't want to know the choice words we use to describe this dog.)  so the owner comes in to buy a pilling gun.  i go into like a five minute little spiel about how to use the pilling gun properly and some other suggestions, tips and tricks to try to make it easier to medicate their dog.  after all this, the owner takes the pilling gun from me, looks me dead in the eye and asks "does that thing go all the way through your ear?"  she was referring to my industrial piercing.  this was the first time i have ever had anyone be distracted by any of my body art.  without so much as pausing i look straight back at her and say "yes it does."  her response?  "oh."  followed by a short pause and "do you have piercings anywhere else?"  i then showed her my right ear.  "so no really weird ones like your tongue or anything?"  my answer: "not yet."  i wonder how much of my pilling speech she remembers.  i guess i'll know if i see her back tomorrow.  maybe i should show her my tattoo then.

963: the stuff nightmares are made of

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this number causes me to have nightmares.  don't believe me?  ask melanie.  now, you might ask, why such a simple think as a number might cause me to break out in a cold sweat, hug a teddy bear, and curl up in the fetal position?  it's because this number brings back some of the most awful, terror-inducing memories i have of my college years.  it represents the epitome of pure evil.  it is the ear tag number of a cow.

now this isn't just any cow.  she's the reason why i have such an unbridled hatred of dairy cows.  my first experience with her happened to be during my very first milk shift after my training was done.  so here i am, flying solo, already pissed because two cows had bum rushed the gate and went on a wild romp around the dairy before being caught again.  and then this cow shows up.  a stupid little jersey cow.  she looked all cute and sweet, but that was all just a part of her plan to fool you.  while moving her pen up to the milk parlor, she decides to just flat out stop right in front of the barn.  no matter what i do, i cannot get this cow to move.  i try nicely at first, trying to coax her along.  then i try a slap on the rump.  then i try a tail twitch.  then i try a halter.  then i try a halter and a tail twitch.  basically everything but a cattle prod, and that was only because i didn't have one.  so twenty minutes later, this cow has still not moved.  oh, and did i mention it was pouring down rain?  i had to break down and go ask one of the senior milkers to help me move her.  i was in tears by that point.  the only thing that made me feel a little better was that it took two of them to get her into the barn.  i'm not going to go into details how, because it would probably piss off the animal rights groups.

this is also the cow that once decided to go into the milk cute backwards.  unless you've been to a dairy, this is a much bigger problem than you might realize.  the cutes leading to the milk stalls are made to be big enough for the cow to walk through, but small enough where they can't turn around.  this meant that i had to get the cow to walk backwards into the large pen again to be able to get her turned around.  this took about ten minutes to do, because cows really don't like walking backwards.  but i finally got her turned around to where she could now safely leave the milk parlor.  and how does she repay me?  by running by me so quickly that i barely had time to get out of her way.  and to make matters worse, she decided to try and body slam me into the wall.  i was able to get most of me out of harms way, but ended up sacrificing my wrist to do so.  the full 900 lbs of her furry smashed my wrist into the concrete wall.  i guess i ended up lucky, it didn't break.  but it was sprained for about 2 weeks.  which make my next few milk shifts just about the worst things ever since i had to do them one handed.  stupid cow.  i was glad when that one got sent down the road.  now who wants steak?

my, what big ears you have

so we do ear cropping at my work.  mostly dobermans.  we're the only clinic within 200 miles that does it, so we kinda see a lot of them.  and before anyone gets bitchy about it, we do a really good job, we do it humanly with with pain management, and it's way better for them to come to us and have it done right that to try it at home with a razor blade.  that being said, most of the time i think the dogs look adorable with the floppy ears.  while i can see why this might not make the most imposing looking guard dog, there's nothing wrong with a family dog looking all cute and cuddly.  so usually i'm a little bummed when the owners decided to go through with it.  that was not the case this week.  we had a dog come in who has probably some of the silliest looking ears i have ever seen in my life.  i have honestly never once seen a dog like this before.  he kind of reminds me of the song "do your ears hang low."  this was probably the first time i was relieved that the owners opted for ear cropping.  at least he'll look like a real dog now.

 

why great sunday nights make awful monday mornings

so i went to karaoke last night.  its a blessing and a curse to go with alex.  he's awesome to hang out with, and he will sing (certain) songs with me, but unfortunately people don't seem to comprehend that a girl can go to a bar with a guy and not be romantically involved with him.  kind of hinders my chances of talking some random guy into paying for my drinks.  and yes, i am one of those girls who will accept the drinks and then go on my merry way with out the drunk guy in tow.  i'm ok with that.  the other downside is that for some crazy reason alex (who is straight) gets more guy attention than i do.  at one point i think there were 3 guys trying to dance with him, and only 1 guy trying to dance with me.  i also ran into the one guy i know who can actually be called a rock star: tyler hole, the guitarist from  motograter .  i work with his mom.  go figure.  and no, he does not wear the make up when he goes out.

so seeing as how we were at karaoke, we of course had to sing.  i am by no means a good singer, but i won't make your ears bleed either (and trust me, there are plenty of people like that who go).  i also just make sure that i pick songs that people will like no matter how badly you sing them.  first up was "save a horse, ride a cowboy" by big & rich.   i went solo for this one.  i wanted to do californication, but alex vetoed that.  later alex and i did a repeat performance of our previous karaoke hit, "friends in low places" by garth brooks.  keep in mind that we do not do this at a country bar.  but every one loves it.  i mean, it's a song about a bar, how could anyone there not love it?

the one saving grace was that i didn't have very much money last night, so i only got two drinks.  at least this  meant that there was no possible way i would be hung over.  one was supposed to be a vodka sour, but it wasn't very good.  don't really know if the guy knew what he was making.  i have no clue what the second drink was.  i pretty much went up to the bar, told the guy i had $4 left, and to make me something with vodka in it.  it was surprisingly pretty good.  i know he mixed 4 different things in it, but all i could see from my place at the bar was vodka and peach schnapps. the rest will forever remain a mystery.  so that pretty much concludes sunday night, which technically ended at about 1 a.m. monday morning.  which of course means that after washing my face, brushing my teeth, and taking care of my other girly hygiene habits, i did't actually fall asleep until close to 2:30.

which leads to the awful part.

having to wake up at 7:00 a.m. for work at 8:00 a.m. for a job that requires you to be fully functional and alert.  don't think i really need to elaborate on that any more.