Lucky

Quiet night at BNVC last night. Saw nothing at all for about 7 hours. At 1:30 am, I went out to get gas at the local Canadian Tire; the roads newly frosted with crystalline snow. I stopped at the CIBC on Lynden Road but the drive through was closed; so I parked and went into the building. Not a soul around. Quiet as anything. A girl was walking along Lynden Road alone. Just finished her shift at the local McDonalds/bar-grill/Tim Horton's. Brantford's that small a town that a girl can walk along a lonely dark street at 1:45 am and not worry. I can't even do that anymore in Toronto. I've never been one to give in to paranoia; I've always pretty much done what I wanted but somewhere over the last few decades I've evolved into this person with a strong sense of self preservation and I just wouldn't do that today; walk along a dark empty street in the first snow fall of winter at a quarter to two in the morning.
I digress.
I did my chores and headed back to the clinic. Goofing around with Miranda. Then I lay down in the office on the folded futon in the dark and waited for sleep; one of the clinic cats tucked into my side. I figured I could get 5 hours sleep and i'd be fine for the drive back to TO the next day.
The phone rang at 3 am; and at 5 am a breeder of golden retrievers appeared at the door; he had a bitch that managed to whelp 9 puppies but one remained. They knew about the 10th because they had her xrayed and were able to count 10 small spinal columns. They had assisted her all along with oxytocin; why? because they're regular vet had said it was okay and had given them 3 syringes of it. Now they needed a 4th. The bitch was visibly contracting and straining but no pup was in the canal. A foot I could feel was peeping through but that's it. Well, I hate when vets give meds to their clients to administer (incorrectly, inappropriately) because we (the night people) have to pick up the pieces of wreckage afterward; the dead puppies, the puppies that can't be moved no matter what you do; the tears, the anger, the misgivings. And sure enough, that was the situation. A dead puppy bobbing in and out of the birth canal of this very nice golden retriever. Like a buoy in the lake that you reach for only it's always just out of reach.
So that's how it went; 2 more injections of oxytocin and ca gluconate produced no puppy; live or dead. I had to tell him; this puppy was dead and had to be removed at surgery. I wouldn't pull bits and pieces of the puppy out; it would be too traumatic for the female and the owner. So I let it lie.
No sooner than my attempts ended with the golden but another owner showed up at the door with another whelping bitch; only this was a hound rescued from a farm where there were a large number of dogs neglected. She was an emaciated polyparturient dog and the owner was actually fostering her until a good home could be found; she was a very nice dog. Not a puppy in sight; she was tight as a drum and had vaginal strictures from previous problem deliveries as well. This one I said needed a Cesarian as well, if indeed she was due to whelp. Which some how I doubt because she was so tight.
I finished all this by 8 am just in time to hit the road. tired. tired. tired. and nearly drove off the 403 a couple of times. Crawling up the 427 I looked to my left and saw DJV in his car beside me. I wonder if he saw me weaving in and out of lanes due to fatigue? But I had to get back to the track. I had to enter the horse. It's just a few days till the end of the meet. I have so much to do. Also had a dentist appointment in Niagara Falls for tonight. And lunch planned with Bev (which never materialized). How was I going to do all of this and dead tired to boot? I called the dentist and booked off; rescheduled for January 19 at 6:30 pm. Trained the horses; Howie did all the heavy stuff; mucked their stalls and saddled the black horse who is a nightmare dragon these days.
Drove to Bolton, picked up my cheque then made my way home. Almost driving off the road a couple of times. In the driveway I put the seat back and passed out for 5 minutes. Crawled into the house, crawled into the shower, crawled into clean clothes then lay down on my nice bed and passed out with James Bond "Never Die Twice" playing in my ear on the computer. What a wonderful thing it is to lay down in the middle of the day in a nice warm room; all safe and clean and cozy and sleep a winter afternoon away. How Lucky. How divine.