Delilah, my rescue pitty, nursing Pinky, the aptly named staffy I took in after pneumonia and parvo had induced severe malnourishment and stunting (she’s so tiny here!).
One of my first jobs out of vet school was working for a large animal shelter. As vets, our time was split between treating people’s pets just like any standard clinic, and attending to our shelter animals: those brought in as strays; those surrendered by their owners; those seized as victims of animal abuse. It was a great job for a new grad – one benefit of animal neglect is that it affords you the privilege of seeing animals in advanced stages of disease. Something I would never have seen in the pleasantries of a suburban clinic where pets often mean as much to people as members of their own family.
It was my dream to enjoy working there. And I did, in…
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