Recent Hobbes, in pictures

Hobbes is growing up fast. Once he finished all his vaccinations we started letting him out into the garden, under supervision at first, and then increasingly on his own.

... That was the plan, anyway. Turns out Hobbes, despite being a cocky and confident chap when inside, is actually a big wuss. I thought that, with the flat being so small, he would be bouncing off the walls raring to go out, but the first time we opened the door and said "Come on then Hobbes!", he hid. We coaxed him over the doorstep but couldn't get him - even with treats! - further than the front passageway, so drastic measures were called for.

We put him on the lawn.

I thought he would enjoy the feeling of grass under his paws, but I was wrong. He made a beeline for the nearest shelter, which happened to be my parked scooter, and cowered behind it mewing pitifully.

He has improved considerably with repeated (forced) expeditions to the garden, and I am happy to announce that the other day he even had a little frolic, of which I present the following evidence:











He was even brave enough to check out my scooter:

My first two weeks as a trainee vet nurse

I am happy to report that, so far at least, I love my job. When I get up at an ungodly hour and drag myself into the shower, I am not particularly pleased about having to leave my warm bed, and Tom, and Hobbes, but I am already looking forward to getting to work, seeing what cases we have, what animals are in, and learning more.

I have learned so much already, and I am starting to feel more and more useful. My first few days were an exercise in keeping as much out of people's way as possible, but now I can actually be of service to the vets and my fellow nurses - I can set up the operating theatre, monitor an animal during a procedure, and clean up afterwards; I can give injections and remove catheters and draw up the correct dosages of various drugs; I can walk dogs on drips (not as easy as it sounds); I can correctly restrain cats and dogs for ultrasounds and taking bloods and sedation; I can use an anaesthetic machine; I can run blood tests and file the results; I can microchip animals; and, of course, I can do a lot of cleaning. But I don't really mind the cleaning - I like the feeling of getting everything clean and hygienic and more pleasant for the animals in our care, and having everything set up and ready to go in case of an emergency.

The practice where I am working mostly sees dogs and cats, but even in those two species the range of cases I have seen already is fascinating. We have a large number of spays and castrations, obviously, but I've seen lots of other things as well - a tiny kitten (three months old, smaller than Hobbes) that had inexplicably eaten an earplug (!) and was at death's door before we got it out; the next day, it was bouncy and happy as if nothing had been wrong. A German shepherd that had swallowed a large stick. A cat that - from the array of bones we got out of its stomach - appeared to have eaten a whole rabbit. A labrador caesarean that ended wonderfully with the birth of four healthy puppies - and, at the other end of the spectrum, a chihuahua caesarean that was less happy, with the extraction of two, long-dead pups, apparently killed by an infection. A cat hit by a car, that came in as a stray, but was reunited with his loving owner because he was microchipped. A collie, hit by a car, that had to have a leg amputated. A cat that had abnormally large eyelids, so we had to snip little bits off. A dog that had eaten a chocolate brownie and couldn't stop throwing up. And the list goes on.

There are some pretty low moments. We had a twenty-one year old cat with major organ failure, resulting in a grossly swollen stomach. It was so aggressive we had to sedate it just to examine it, and the kindest thing was to put it down. Euthanasia is peaceful, but always sad. Yesterday we had an elderly diabetic cat pass away. A cat it lived with had died two weeks earlier, and ever since it had been pining, calling for its friend and not eating. It went into collapse, and we couldn't save it. A case that particularly sticks in my mind happened in my first week - in the evening, a lady brought in a muntjac deer that she'd found, hit by a car, in the road. There was nothing we could do for it - one of its hind legs was completely shattered, there was probably damage to the pelvis, and it was gushing blood from a deep wound on its thigh. We put it to sleep. It was a beautiful animal.

But all that comes with the territory, and is made up for by all the times we can make an animal better or more comfortable. The people I work with are brilliant, and I am very, very happy.

Because I can't really take pictures at work, here is a video of Hobbes being his usual adorable self:

Cambodia, pt. 1

Before we deployed to the forest to get on with the project we spent a week in the capital, Phnom Penh, getting last-minute kit, attending briefings on the methodology and scientific background, and generally being tourists and enjoying civilisation while we still could.

We visited the Tuol Sleng Genocide Museum, a high school which was turned into an infamous death camp (S-21) by the Khmer Rouge. Out of 14,000 or so people 'processed' by the prison, only twelve or so survived. It was not a pleasant place to go, but I think it's a necessary visit for anyone going to Cambodia. Without seeing a place like Tuol Sleng you can't really comprehend what the country has been through, and what it is still recovering from.

On a more light-hearted note, in one of the stairwells there, we found a little cluster of bats:




We saw the Royal Palace, which was absolutely lovely. In one of the courtyards was a strange, rather out-of-place-looking white pavilion. It was apparently a gift from France in the 1800s.







Another key landmark in Phnom Penh is the Independence Monument, built in 1958 to celebrate freedom from France. I liked it best by night, when it's lit up:



We explored various markets, all of which were hot, busy, and crammed to the gunnels with essential items from live chickens to stereos, with a liberal helping of cheesy Khmer cassette tapes thrown in for good measure:



A few of us visited Wat Phnom, a little temple built on the only hill in Phnom Penh. It was fantastically kitsch, with statues of the Buddha rubbing noses with strings of fairy lights, neon lighting, and gaudy paintings.



Near the end of our week in Phnom Penh, we went on a boat trip on the river, and watched the sun set over the city.



One week down, ten more to go...

Hobbes is adorable, again

Hobbes has discovered that he can make the (not really very big at all) leap between the table and the kitchen counter, resulting in scenes like this:

My scooter is here!

... and it is AWESOME!



It's brand new, and the website I bought it from said "some assembly required". Their instructions were something like "Just pop the front wheel on and you're good to go!", so I thought it couldn't be too hard, but an hour or so later and only seconds away from a heated argument between me and Tom, we gave up and called a mechanic. He put the wheel on, charged up the battery, checked it over and was generally super.

So now it's roadworthy!

I'm just not sure if I am.



It's going to take a few days to sort out insurance, registration etc., but now my references have come through so I'll hopefully start work this week!

Hobbes is really excited, as you can see.

A shocking state of affairs

So I noticed that the last post had no pictures of Hobbes in whatsoever. This is a terrible oversight and an issue I plan to remedy immediately with the following pictures taken by Tom's friend Ryan, an awesome photographer and a cat lover to boot:









There, that's much better.

A very eventful week

As you may or may not know, I have been frantically searching for a job ever since I got back from Cambodia - which is only about three weeks, but it feels like forever. Adult life is expensive! There's rent and council tax and utilities bills, and food shopping and pet food and vet fees, and it has all been a bit stressful as I had no idea when I'd be getting some money coming in. So I handed my CV in to millions of shops in town, and signed up with a temping agency, and emailed off my CV to various places just for good measure, looking for something - anything - to tide me over for the year. Getting a job I might actually enjoy seemed about the unlikeliest thing that could possibly happen.

Then, last Monday, I got three phone calls. One was from the temping agency, saying they'd found me a job for a few months as a cashier, and could I come in for an interview straight away. I was thrilled and said yes. The second was from a different bank, saying they had a position available on a permanent basis for a cashier, and could I come in for an interview in the next few days. I was even more thrilled, and said yes. The third was from a veterinary clinic I had sent my CV to in a fit of wild optimism, saying they had a vacancy for a student veterinary nurse, and could I come in for an interview sometime soon. I pretty much squealed with glee.

I should explain a little about becoming a veterinary nurse. The process is this: you persuade an accredited training clinic to take you on, and then for two years or so you take a day out each week to go to college, ending up with an NVQ in Veterinary Nursing. If you're lucky, your clinic will pay your college fees; some do, some don't. It's hard work - you're working full time and studying for exams at the same time; the pay is very low and doesn't get much higher; you work long hours and some weekends and some bank holidays. When I think about vet nursing, though, all I see is that magical phrase, "working with animals". None of the drawbacks really matter.

So I went in for an interview, and it went well, and I was invited back to spend a morning at the clinic, shadowing the nurses, helping out, seeing what the job involved, that kind of thing. And at the same time I was interviewing and completing paperwork for the other two jobs, and trying desperately not to let my hope that I would get the vet nurse job run away with me. And at the same time I was learning to drive, and looking for, a motorbike, because I could only get the vet nurse job if I had my own transport. It's a floating position - the clinic is run by a large company which owns several practices in Oxfordshire, and you work at two or three of them, depending on who needs you, so there's a fair amount of travel involved.

Yesterday I spent the morning at the clinic, and I had a whale of a time. I walked some dogs, helped draw up medications (handling syringes is harder than doctors and nurses make it look; there's a knack to it), watched a dog undergo surgery for a lacerated paw (I monitored her heartbeat!), prepared the operating theatre for a lump removal, helped ultrasound a cat (soon to be an amputee - she had a cancerous bone growth on her back leg; we were checking her kidneys to make sure it hadn't spread before we took the leg off) and generally thoroughly enjoyed myself.

Yesterday afternoon I was offered the job. It's provisional - although I have now done my CBT and so am allowed to drive a bike or moped up to 125cc, I haven't actually got such a bike or moped - but as soon as I get one, which will hopefully be within the week, I can get to work. I'm so excited!

Of course I am going to be working my buns off and have very, very little money, but I still think I am the luckiest person in the world. I'll have a bike of my own, which I've wanted for years, the job of my dreams, a brilliant flat with the ever-lovely Tom, and crowning it all, like Miss Hamard's proverbial icing on the cherry, Hobbes.

Life is good.

Tour of our flat