No Cubs for Festus
I survived my job today. I did a vasectomy on a lion. I am currently suffering from an adrenaline crash, and will probably be abed with back spasms soon.
We get the lion in the squeeze cage, and there is a mildly puzzled look in his face and pace. Then the first lunge and stab I make with the pole-syringe shatters the relative calm. I only got a little bit of drug in him unfortunately, and it stings. A lot.
Words really can't describe the noises he makes at me. "Snarl" is such a cute word. This cacaphony of anger isn't the beckoning "roar," though it is as deafening. This was not suffering a loud noise, this was feeling a crashing wave of angry sound, a manifestation of absolute fury, pounding at my chest. A stampede of rage assaults my ears. He has noticed me, it seems.
The insult I heard in his voice... "How dare you? How dare you touch me, squeaky food-thing. Kill you, bite you, toss you, thrash you."
Murderous, indeed, but I did not take it personally. By focusing on getting more drugs in him I am able to somehow ignore the charges and snapping screams at me. Fleeting moments come and go as he turns in his cage, almost taunting me with a clear stab at his enormous thigh, then a whirl and it is back to the teeth and the spittle and gold-green eyes that I am sure are memorizing my face.
Somehow I get two more injections in him, and by the fourth shot, he barely gives a twitch and a grumble over the sting. A butt scratch with the other end of the pole tells me he is almost unconscious. I tickle his ear hair and tap his cheek to see how strong he is blinking. When he doesn't pick his head up, we unlock the door and go in. He needed a total of 120cc's of drugs for the whole procedure, that is half of a cup of valium and "special K" to keep him out. Rock rock on.
We trimmed his nails, drew blood for screening, combed out the dreadlocks in his mane while I was stuffed into a corner, both legs asleep, balancing a flashlight in my lap to dissect out both vas deferens. They are almost as thick as a pencil, and it dulls a scalpel blade to get through the skin and tissues.
Time for the gym's jacuzzi and sauna, time for a beer, and definitely time for some Ibuprofen.
Click on the thumbnail for a HUGE picture, thanks to Imageshack!
We get the lion in the squeeze cage, and there is a mildly puzzled look in his face and pace. Then the first lunge and stab I make with the pole-syringe shatters the relative calm. I only got a little bit of drug in him unfortunately, and it stings. A lot.
Words really can't describe the noises he makes at me. "Snarl" is such a cute word. This cacaphony of anger isn't the beckoning "roar," though it is as deafening. This was not suffering a loud noise, this was feeling a crashing wave of angry sound, a manifestation of absolute fury, pounding at my chest. A stampede of rage assaults my ears. He has noticed me, it seems.
The insult I heard in his voice... "How dare you? How dare you touch me, squeaky food-thing. Kill you, bite you, toss you, thrash you."
Murderous, indeed, but I did not take it personally. By focusing on getting more drugs in him I am able to somehow ignore the charges and snapping screams at me. Fleeting moments come and go as he turns in his cage, almost taunting me with a clear stab at his enormous thigh, then a whirl and it is back to the teeth and the spittle and gold-green eyes that I am sure are memorizing my face.
Somehow I get two more injections in him, and by the fourth shot, he barely gives a twitch and a grumble over the sting. A butt scratch with the other end of the pole tells me he is almost unconscious. I tickle his ear hair and tap his cheek to see how strong he is blinking. When he doesn't pick his head up, we unlock the door and go in. He needed a total of 120cc's of drugs for the whole procedure, that is half of a cup of valium and "special K" to keep him out. Rock rock on.
We trimmed his nails, drew blood for screening, combed out the dreadlocks in his mane while I was stuffed into a corner, both legs asleep, balancing a flashlight in my lap to dissect out both vas deferens. They are almost as thick as a pencil, and it dulls a scalpel blade to get through the skin and tissues.
Time for the gym's jacuzzi and sauna, time for a beer, and definitely time for some Ibuprofen.
Click on the thumbnail for a HUGE picture, thanks to Imageshack!
posted by Unknown at 6:16 PM
