Simon is the good cat. (We like Johnny too, but he is better behaved at home than he is in public.)
Simon is the cat who goes to the nursing home. He's the cat who donates blood. He's the cat who doesn't mind his harness and isn't too whiny in the car.
So I volunteered him to "help" at open house this weekend. The student chapter of the American Association of Feline Practitioners (AAFP), aka "The Cat Club," had a booth at which they wanted to have some live, well-behaved cats that kids could pet and also listen to their hearts with a stethoscope.
Like going to the nursing home, I wasn't entirely sure how Simon would do, but I offered to bring him anyway under the assumption that they could keep him out if he wasn't stressed and was being friendly, and just put him in his carrier somewhere out of the way if he got tired or crabby.
Well, reportedly he was an awesome little guy! The volunteers said he was a good cat, friendly and sociable for the full two hours of his "shift."
At the end of the two hours, they put him in a cage in the ward where he usually hangs out on blood donation days.
Before my last tour yesterday, I had a couple minutes for a break so I went to check and see how he was doing back there. I think I have to not do that sort of thing, because he had been fine until I checked on him, he was happy to see me, but then I got reports that he became crabby after that. I think he gets sad if I go see him and he thinks he gets to go home, but then he really has to stay longer.
Poor guy... but he is such a trooper!
Saturday, April 10, 2010
Poop? Doesn't anyone want this poop?
Over spring break, I brought Johnny into Community Practice at the VTH for his check-up and vaccines. (He was sort of a brat about it.)
I had them run some bloodwork just to be safe (all came back normal) and they wanted to do a fecal sample as well.
Johnny is an uncooperative pooper, in that he won't let you get a sample from him, and I could leave him at the hospital all day and he still wouldn't pee or poop away from home unless it had been like 24 hours or longer.
So I brought home a little sample container to get a fresh sample from him to drop off before class someday.
It took almost a month before he cooperated enough with his poop timing such that I could actually get a fresh sample. But, at long last, he timed one just right for me to bring it in yesterday when I went to open house.
The student that saw him at Community Practice in March and gave me the sample cup also gave me a lab form (filled out) and told me to just drop both of them off at the front desk.
So yesterday morning, I dutifully walked up to the front desk with the form and Johnny's poop (in the cup, in a Ziploc bag), and asked them if they could take it.
I was met with looks of mild horror.
(I think they were pretty confused because I was wearing my blue student coat, so they may have thought I was a junior or senior and should know what I was doing. Not so!)
Two of the reception ladies sort of muttured back and forth for a minute, then one of them said to me, "OH! Is it for Community Practice?"
"Yes!" I replied, relieved and assuming I would soon no longer be standing at the desk like an idiot holding some poop.
"Well," they said, "maybe you should just take it back to Community Practice then."
"Okay...." I said.
"Because otherwise all we'll do is page them and they'll have to come get it," the receptionist finished.
"Okay, thanks," I answered, and headed back toward Community Practice (which happens to be about as far from the front desk as you can get, and seems 10 times farther when the halls are clogged with inquisitive second-graders).
I finally battled my way to Community Practice, only to find it completely unoccupied save for one doctor I didn't recognize who was sitting in the back room drinking some coffee.
"I have a poop sample," I began. "I tried to bring it to the front desk but they asked me to drop it off with you."
The poor doctor also looked rather repulsed.
"Um..." he stalled, "maybe you should take it out to the diagnostic lab?"
"Even though it's for Community Practice?" I inquired.
"Yes," he decided.
"Okay, thanks," I answered, and ventured back into the halls, again dragging myself and the poop sample through hordes of little kids.
On my way into the diagnostic lab, I passed some people leaving who looked like they worked there and/or knew what I should do.
"Excuse me," I started, "I'm a sophomore and I don't really know how this works, but I need to drop off a poop sample for my cat. Do you know where I can leave it?"
"Try the window up there on the left," one of them replied before they scurried away from me and the poop.
"Okay, thanks," I answered, and headed deeper into the lab.
I stepped cautiously up to the unoccupied window to which I had been directed, and soon somebody appeared and offered a cautious, "Can I help you?"
"Sorry to bother you," I said, "but I'm trying to figure out where I drop off this fecal sample. Do I leave it with you?"
"Oh, no," she replied. "Take it to that other window over there."
"Okay, thanks," I answered, and headed back the way I came in.
Finally, at long last, I had found the correct window! But would they take the poop sample?
"Hi," I started, trying to keep the beleaguered tone to a minimum. "I'm a sophomore vet student, and I brought my own cat into Community Practice a few weeks ago for his shots, and they wanted to do a fecal test, so they sent me home with this form and a sample cup, and I have a fresh sample, and all I need is a fecal float, and the student that saw my cat told me just to drop it off at the front desk, but the front desk told me to bring it to Community Practice, and Community Practice told me to bring it to the diagnostic lab, so here I am, and I hope I'm in the right place!"
"Okay," she said suspiciously. "I guess I can take that for you. You said you're a sophomore?"
Exhausted, I nodded.
"That's so weird," she said. "I've never had somebody do it that way before. That's not at all the way they are supposed to do this sort of thing. The student didn't even write their name on the form. Why don't YOU write your name as the student on this patient's case?"
Already late for my tour guide shift, I did as asked, hoping she would just take the poop so I could leave.
"All right, I can run that for you," she finally said.
"Okay, thanks!" I answered, and headed on my way.
I had them run some bloodwork just to be safe (all came back normal) and they wanted to do a fecal sample as well.
Johnny is an uncooperative pooper, in that he won't let you get a sample from him, and I could leave him at the hospital all day and he still wouldn't pee or poop away from home unless it had been like 24 hours or longer.
So I brought home a little sample container to get a fresh sample from him to drop off before class someday.
It took almost a month before he cooperated enough with his poop timing such that I could actually get a fresh sample. But, at long last, he timed one just right for me to bring it in yesterday when I went to open house.
The student that saw him at Community Practice in March and gave me the sample cup also gave me a lab form (filled out) and told me to just drop both of them off at the front desk.
So yesterday morning, I dutifully walked up to the front desk with the form and Johnny's poop (in the cup, in a Ziploc bag), and asked them if they could take it.
I was met with looks of mild horror.
(I think they were pretty confused because I was wearing my blue student coat, so they may have thought I was a junior or senior and should know what I was doing. Not so!)
Two of the reception ladies sort of muttured back and forth for a minute, then one of them said to me, "OH! Is it for Community Practice?"
"Yes!" I replied, relieved and assuming I would soon no longer be standing at the desk like an idiot holding some poop.
"Well," they said, "maybe you should just take it back to Community Practice then."
"Okay...." I said.
"Because otherwise all we'll do is page them and they'll have to come get it," the receptionist finished.
"Okay, thanks," I answered, and headed back toward Community Practice (which happens to be about as far from the front desk as you can get, and seems 10 times farther when the halls are clogged with inquisitive second-graders).
I finally battled my way to Community Practice, only to find it completely unoccupied save for one doctor I didn't recognize who was sitting in the back room drinking some coffee.
"I have a poop sample," I began. "I tried to bring it to the front desk but they asked me to drop it off with you."
The poor doctor also looked rather repulsed.
"Um..." he stalled, "maybe you should take it out to the diagnostic lab?"
"Even though it's for Community Practice?" I inquired.
"Yes," he decided.
"Okay, thanks," I answered, and ventured back into the halls, again dragging myself and the poop sample through hordes of little kids.
On my way into the diagnostic lab, I passed some people leaving who looked like they worked there and/or knew what I should do.
"Excuse me," I started, "I'm a sophomore and I don't really know how this works, but I need to drop off a poop sample for my cat. Do you know where I can leave it?"
"Try the window up there on the left," one of them replied before they scurried away from me and the poop.
"Okay, thanks," I answered, and headed deeper into the lab.
I stepped cautiously up to the unoccupied window to which I had been directed, and soon somebody appeared and offered a cautious, "Can I help you?"
"Sorry to bother you," I said, "but I'm trying to figure out where I drop off this fecal sample. Do I leave it with you?"
"Oh, no," she replied. "Take it to that other window over there."
"Okay, thanks," I answered, and headed back the way I came in.
Finally, at long last, I had found the correct window! But would they take the poop sample?
"Hi," I started, trying to keep the beleaguered tone to a minimum. "I'm a sophomore vet student, and I brought my own cat into Community Practice a few weeks ago for his shots, and they wanted to do a fecal test, so they sent me home with this form and a sample cup, and I have a fresh sample, and all I need is a fecal float, and the student that saw my cat told me just to drop it off at the front desk, but the front desk told me to bring it to Community Practice, and Community Practice told me to bring it to the diagnostic lab, so here I am, and I hope I'm in the right place!"
"Okay," she said suspiciously. "I guess I can take that for you. You said you're a sophomore?"
Exhausted, I nodded.
"That's so weird," she said. "I've never had somebody do it that way before. That's not at all the way they are supposed to do this sort of thing. The student didn't even write their name on the form. Why don't YOU write your name as the student on this patient's case?"
Already late for my tour guide shift, I did as asked, hoping she would just take the poop so I could leave.
"All right, I can run that for you," she finally said.
"Okay, thanks!" I answered, and headed on my way.
Thursday, April 1, 2010
The infamous two-bodied, one-headed cat
I love this picture of Johnny & Simon. Sometimes it seems like they only have one brain between the both of them!
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