This Time, I Actually Caught a Stray

This Time, I Actually Caught a Stray

So, I know the other day I wrote about catching a stray when I somehow found myself on the receiving end of the most offensive riot act anyone has thrown in my face in quite some time.

Well, today I actually caught a little stray.

A puppy came into the hospital in respiratory distress. She had been treated for pneumonia a few weeks earlier, but she was struggling again.

Her very concerned owners came in considering euthanasia.

And honestly?

That was fair.

I want to make that very clear, because veterinary medicine has a terrible habit of making people feel guilty for decisions that are already incredibly difficult.

They weren't bad owners. They weren't heartless. They were looking at a sick puppy, an uncertain road ahead, and trying to make the best decision they could.

But lately, one of my coworkers, who is also an amazing friend, and I have been talking about how we feel like we need to do a little more to give back.

And we looked at this puppy and thought:

Maybe this is one.

Maybe she deserves a chance.

So we asked our longtime client if they would be willing to turn the puppy over to the practice and allow us to take responsibility for her care.

They gladly said yes.

And suddenly, we had ourselves a project puppy.

After 20+ years in veterinary medicine, you'd think we'd be desensitized by now.

Sometimes I think we're supposed to be.

We've seen death. We've seen neglect. We've watched families say goodbye. We've worked through emergencies, impossible cases, angry clients, financial limitations, staffing shortages, exhaustion, and all the other things that slowly try to chip pieces off you.

There is a certain coldness that can creep in if you let it.

But apparently, we're still soft.

We still care.

We still have compassion.

And maybe my friend and I can keep chipping away at the coldness that sometimes tries to consume us.

What I didn't expect was how quickly this little puppy became a team project.

Everyone was happy to have her.

Some team members got to practice their hospitalization and nursing skills.

And one of our interns got to practice being a doctor... not independently, of course. She consulted with the veterinarian on every decision, but she got to work through her own thought process first.

What are we seeing?

What should we be monitoring?

What would she do next?

What would make her change course?

Then she got to take those thoughts to the veterinarian, talk them through, and help follow the case as it evolved.

She got lucky, the puppy did well, but I'm pretty sure she still lost some sleep over her patient.

And honestly, that's part of learning too.

You can teach medicine from a book. You can memorize protocols. But there's something different about having a living, breathing patient in front of you and realizing:

Oh shit. I actually care what happens next.

And some people contributed the equally important medical service of...

puppy cuddles.

Lots and lots of puppy cuddles.

Watching everyone rally around this tiny creature reminded me of something.

We can't save everything.

We can't take home every animal.

We can't personally absorb every veterinary bill.

And we absolutely cannot carry every sad case that walks through our doors.

Trying to do that will destroy you.

I'm going to cover this puppy's care, and I know that isn't something I can..or should...do every time.

But sometimes, I think we need one.

Sometimes the team needs a win.

Sometimes, after spending so much of our careers giving pieces of ourselves away, we need something that feeds a little bit of it back.

Because veterinary medicine is an amazing career.

We get to help animals. We get to relieve suffering. We get to fix things. We get to watch animals go home to the people who love them.

But it can also drain the hell out of you.

And sometimes burnout doesn't need another pizza party.

Sometimes it needs a project puppy.

A little creature everyone can root for.

A reason to walk into treatment and ask, "How's the baby doing?"

A patient who gives the newer team members a chance to learn, the experienced team members a chance to teach, and all of us an excuse to stop what we're doing for thirty seconds and cuddle a puppy.

And maybe that's what made this little project puppy so special.

She wasn't just receiving something from our team.

She was giving something back to each of us in a different way.

For some, she was a chance to practice skills.

For our intern, she was a chance to think like a doctor... to work through her clinical reasoning, consult with the veterinarian, and watch those decisions play out in a real patient.

For some, she was an opportunity to teach.

For others, she was simply a warm little puppy who needed to be held for a few minutes.

And for my friend and me?

Maybe she was proof that after 20+ years in this field, the coldness hasn't won.

We're not completely desensitized.

We still care.

We're still soft enough to get attached.

We're still willing to root for one more underdog.

I think the family gave us a gift, too.

They made the right decision for themselves and their circumstances. And by trusting us enough to turn her over, they gave this puppy another opportunity.

But they also unknowingly gave an entire veterinary team something we needed.

A little hope.

A little softness.

A reminder of why the hell we chose this career in the first place.

And because I know you're wondering...

The puppy is doing well.

We're keeping our fingers crossed, taking it one day at a time, and hoping she continues to improve.

For now, our little stray is surrounded by an entire veterinary team who has decided she's ours to root for.

Sometimes, apparently, the thing you're trying to save gives a little something back to you too.

And after the week I've had, I've officially gone from catching verbal strays...

to catching actual ones.

I definitely prefer this kind.

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