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mad_andyI have a sick beastie.
It isn't mine.
See, I was working at the shop today. Should have been yesterday but I wasn't sure what time I would be home after Friday's gig.
Anyway.
I'm working, bopping along, Chris is at home with a hangover, and the phone rings. It's a concerned client, whose chameleon has something red hanging from its bum. Soak it in warm water, I say, if that don't work, take it to a vet.
I'll speak to Chris on monday, says the client. Yeah, OK, whutevah.
Couple of hours pass and said client comes in, bearing a chameleon in a plastic box. Would I take a look. Sure, no worr--
Oh. Right.
I lifted out the poor beast, and it rolled its eyes to look at me as only a chameleon can and I thought - you poor little bastard, your days are well and truly numbered.
The most obvious problem was a prolapsed rectum. Nasty enough in and of itself, but the reason why it's prolapsed is more important than the vile bubble of swollen red tissue hanging from the vent. Parasites? Constipation? Anyway, even that paled into insignificance when I took in the rest of the body condition.
Skinny to the point of emaciation, poor mucous membrane colour (therefore probably anaemic), and long bones that had more in common with a curly wurly than the elegant struts that they ought to be.
"This animal," I said calmly, "needs to see a vet. Now."
Ah, but costs, you see... why spend several hundred pounds (at least) on an animal that has a relatively short lifespan and costs under a hundred pounds to replace?
The guy swore he'd been keeping it under conditions that we'd specified. Bullshit, quite frankly. That level of metabolic bone disease doesn't happen overnight, but he had that look in his eye that told me he'd stick to his guns even if you had photographic proof, so I let it drop.
Then he asked if it would cost him anything to put it to sleep. Why of course, I replied, there's the weekend call out, then the euth fee, then the--
"I'll leave it to tomorrow," he said.
I saw my chance.
"You most certainly can," I told him, "but he's probably in some pain now, and he stands a good chance of collapse and death overnight - he's really going to suffer, poor mite."
I shook my head, sighed. Then looked up with a sad smile, as though something had just occurred to me.
"I tell you what," I said, "I'll keep him here until I'm done, then I'll drop in to the vets I work at on the way home, put him to sleep myself. It won't cost you a bean."
Oh, he was delighted. Because he didn't want it to suffer, and it was so good of me to offer, oh, no worries, I don't want to see him suffer either, blah blah blah now fuck off before I kill you.
Needless to say, euthanasia was not part of the plan.
The plan was to stop off at the vets, get the opinion of H__, who was working this weekend and who has an interest in exotics. If she'd been unwilling to have a go well, fine. At least I'd tried. But she said OK, we'll give it a shot.
So we put his bum back together, gave him some calcium supplements, antibiotics, and wormer. Which he vomited back over me, but never mind. I'm keeping him warm and hydrated and he's had a painkiller but the rest is up to him... and the prognosis, from the expression on his face, is pretty poor.
I had to try, though. It's probably been too late for him for months, but I had to try.
If he lives - unlikely, but if - I'll find him another home through the shop. Or keep him there myself, whichever. Poor little sod.
On a happier note, I was showing the nieces a big healthy male Yemen chameleon who's boarding at the shop while his owner is on his hols. Lovely animal, hates being in his viv and wants to sit on your head for hours - so after he'd been shown off (and sat on my head eyeing the premises like an interested shareholder) he had to go back in his viv.
Cue a battle. I almost had him in there when he shot forward, and grasped the first thing he laid his odd little paw on as tight as he could. Believe me, those things have one heck of a grip on them, and very sharp claws.
Which were wrapped tight around the end of my nose.
You know the bit between your nostrils? Just where the end of your nose curves over?
There.
I did holler. Oh boy did I.
It's still sore now.
Still, I managed to get him back into his house by the simple method of standing still (with my eyes watering, I might add) until he got his weight onto my face, then walked up my hair to sit on my head. Then I grabbed him round the middle and dumped him (gently but firmly) back in his house.
And then, of course, had to face the delighted grins of the customers who's witnessed said pantomime... oy vey!
So I've had a reshuffle in the bedroom - the pygmies are going to go into an unused 3' fishtank with a mesh lid, give them more space. Also, hopefully, I'll be able to see them a bit more clearly and maybe even get them breeding.
The baldies have two day old pups, the baby lemmings are still with us and just as cute as cute can be. Rosie has eaten her first meal with us, and all seems well on the beastie front! (Except for the poor old chameleon, but we'll see about him.)
To top it all off![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
arrys_girlie has updated Forever And One last night! Huzzah!
:D
Hooked? Me?
It isn't mine.
See, I was working at the shop today. Should have been yesterday but I wasn't sure what time I would be home after Friday's gig.
Anyway.
I'm working, bopping along, Chris is at home with a hangover, and the phone rings. It's a concerned client, whose chameleon has something red hanging from its bum. Soak it in warm water, I say, if that don't work, take it to a vet.
I'll speak to Chris on monday, says the client. Yeah, OK, whutevah.
Couple of hours pass and said client comes in, bearing a chameleon in a plastic box. Would I take a look. Sure, no worr--
Oh. Right.
I lifted out the poor beast, and it rolled its eyes to look at me as only a chameleon can and I thought - you poor little bastard, your days are well and truly numbered.
The most obvious problem was a prolapsed rectum. Nasty enough in and of itself, but the reason why it's prolapsed is more important than the vile bubble of swollen red tissue hanging from the vent. Parasites? Constipation? Anyway, even that paled into insignificance when I took in the rest of the body condition.
Skinny to the point of emaciation, poor mucous membrane colour (therefore probably anaemic), and long bones that had more in common with a curly wurly than the elegant struts that they ought to be.
"This animal," I said calmly, "needs to see a vet. Now."
Ah, but costs, you see... why spend several hundred pounds (at least) on an animal that has a relatively short lifespan and costs under a hundred pounds to replace?
The guy swore he'd been keeping it under conditions that we'd specified. Bullshit, quite frankly. That level of metabolic bone disease doesn't happen overnight, but he had that look in his eye that told me he'd stick to his guns even if you had photographic proof, so I let it drop.
Then he asked if it would cost him anything to put it to sleep. Why of course, I replied, there's the weekend call out, then the euth fee, then the--
"I'll leave it to tomorrow," he said.
I saw my chance.
"You most certainly can," I told him, "but he's probably in some pain now, and he stands a good chance of collapse and death overnight - he's really going to suffer, poor mite."
I shook my head, sighed. Then looked up with a sad smile, as though something had just occurred to me.
"I tell you what," I said, "I'll keep him here until I'm done, then I'll drop in to the vets I work at on the way home, put him to sleep myself. It won't cost you a bean."
Oh, he was delighted. Because he didn't want it to suffer, and it was so good of me to offer, oh, no worries, I don't want to see him suffer either, blah blah blah now fuck off before I kill you.
Needless to say, euthanasia was not part of the plan.
The plan was to stop off at the vets, get the opinion of H__, who was working this weekend and who has an interest in exotics. If she'd been unwilling to have a go well, fine. At least I'd tried. But she said OK, we'll give it a shot.
So we put his bum back together, gave him some calcium supplements, antibiotics, and wormer. Which he vomited back over me, but never mind. I'm keeping him warm and hydrated and he's had a painkiller but the rest is up to him... and the prognosis, from the expression on his face, is pretty poor.
I had to try, though. It's probably been too late for him for months, but I had to try.
If he lives - unlikely, but if - I'll find him another home through the shop. Or keep him there myself, whichever. Poor little sod.
On a happier note, I was showing the nieces a big healthy male Yemen chameleon who's boarding at the shop while his owner is on his hols. Lovely animal, hates being in his viv and wants to sit on your head for hours - so after he'd been shown off (and sat on my head eyeing the premises like an interested shareholder) he had to go back in his viv.
Cue a battle. I almost had him in there when he shot forward, and grasped the first thing he laid his odd little paw on as tight as he could. Believe me, those things have one heck of a grip on them, and very sharp claws.
Which were wrapped tight around the end of my nose.
You know the bit between your nostrils? Just where the end of your nose curves over?
There.
I did holler. Oh boy did I.
It's still sore now.
Still, I managed to get him back into his house by the simple method of standing still (with my eyes watering, I might add) until he got his weight onto my face, then walked up my hair to sit on my head. Then I grabbed him round the middle and dumped him (gently but firmly) back in his house.
And then, of course, had to face the delighted grins of the customers who's witnessed said pantomime... oy vey!
So I've had a reshuffle in the bedroom - the pygmies are going to go into an unused 3' fishtank with a mesh lid, give them more space. Also, hopefully, I'll be able to see them a bit more clearly and maybe even get them breeding.
The baldies have two day old pups, the baby lemmings are still with us and just as cute as cute can be. Rosie has eaten her first meal with us, and all seems well on the beastie front! (Except for the poor old chameleon, but we'll see about him.)
To top it all off
arrys_girlie has updated Forever And One last night! Huzzah!:D
Hooked? Me?
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no subject
Date: 2007-07-15 10:05 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-07-15 10:09 pm (UTC)Stupid people.
no subject
Date: 2007-07-15 11:02 pm (UTC)This is one of the many things--but perhaps one of the most important of the many things--that makes you so awesome.
no subject
Date: 2007-07-17 06:06 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-07-16 06:22 am (UTC)BTW, thought of you the other day---saw not one but BOTH of our black snakes! They were sunning themselves near the steps and when I got out of the car, they took their time sliding into the grass. They're healthy, fat and happy.
no subject
Date: 2007-07-16 10:32 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-07-16 05:33 pm (UTC)Though I think it's very cool that you tried to get him better. You could have easily just put him to sleep and be done with it. That's a sign of an awesome person in my book :)