Babies. They're so good at being distractions.

I didn't get to do anything interesting at the zoo this week, but the zoo itself had some interesting things happen. First, a baby giraffe was born (yay!), but then, it's mom had to be euthanized (no!). From what I gathered, she was suffering from heart failure (along with some other things that I didn't quite get the details about), and the stress of labor was too much for her. It's pretty sad. I was really hoping I would get to see the baby giraffe that the zoo is bottle feeding now, but no such luck. Maybe next week?

Speaking of next week..... AHHHHHHHHHH! MY VET SCHOOL INTERVIEW!!!! It's on Wednesday. Just a few more days. It's all I can do to not freak out every time I think about it. Which is a lot, by the way. I'll be in the middle of class, and it will cross my mind, and I will start frantically quizzing myself in my head. Or start quivering with fear and nervousness. Or panicking. Yeah, that happens, too. 

It shouldn't be this bad, I know. Honestly, I'm fairly prepared for it. I just don't feel that way sometimes (okay, a lot of times). Sometimes, I'm like, "Dude, it's just an interview. You've got this. And if you choke, there's always next year." But other times I'm like, "Oh my god. This is the biggest, most important interview of my life. I can't screw this up. I've worked too hard. I'll be so devastated if I don't get in this year that I'll probably be too depressed to even apply next year. This is going to be bad. So, so bad."

So to distract myself, I'm going to tell you about babies. Babies are cute and cool and happy, right? In general? I mean, I think so. Especially the animal kind. Buuut, I'll warn you now; not everyone thinks that about these particular babies...

Meet Loopy:

Oh god. Yeah... sometimes I forget how ugly he was...

Loop is a starling that was brought to me over the summer by some kids at camp. I tried to put him back in his nest, but I'm pretty sure he had some brain damage (hence the name) because his balance was a little off, and he couldn't quite stay where he was supposed to. So we (myself, the camp's nurse, and some of my bird loving friends) adopted him.

Getting prettier. This was during his awkward teenager phase. He was a little butt-heavy.

I made him some special baby starling food (a mixture of cat food, baby food, avian vitamins, bugs, eggs, and applesauce... yumm), and he thrived on the stuff. Much better than any of us expected (this was mostly due to the awesomeness of the camp's nurse.. she has a way with birds). He even started to become a little less loopy after he learned to fly (though he did enjoy pooping on people's head every chance he got).

And now look at him! He's beautiful! And living the most spoiled bird life possible with the camp's nurse.

I also helped raise quite a few of these guys:

Wow.. I'm starting to wonder how I loved those things...

Unfortunately, their eggs were mistakenly put in the incubator, so we raised them from the day they hatched, which was no easy task. Normally, they are left with their mom's for two weeks, and then we pull them from the nest to make them friendlier.

What are they?

Cockatiels. Who would have thought that mutant-looking creature above could turn into this?

And then there was Meningi, my favorite Silky Chicken chick (short for Meningicoccal.. that's my favorite word):

Isn't he adorable? His brothers were: Meningitis, Ecoli, Salmonella, and Streptococcus.

I'm going to stop there. If I were to post a picture of every baby bird I hatched out/raised last summer, I would be up all night. Seriously. It was close to (if not over) 200 birds. Probably half of which were guinea fowl. We also hatched out quite a few peafowl, a couple turkeys, and some other chicken varieties. And an awesome Red Rump Parakeet that was one of my favorites, but I couldn't find a picture of him. :( We used to cuddle. He was sweet.

And now I have this love/appreciation for birds that I never had before. I get super nostalgic about it all the time. Especially when I'm sitting in the Walmart parking lot, and all those adorable birds are flitting about, eating people's pollution sludge. It almost makes me want to take them home so they can eat and poop on everything in the safety of my apartment. Almost.

Well. I hope you've enjoyed my adorably ugly baby birds. Now I think I'll go back to panicking about my interview...

Tails and Toes.

Before I begin, I would just like to take a moment to update everyone on Bosley/Boslyn's post-surgery recovery.

Unfortunately, his hyper obnoxiousness did not decrease in the slightest, which is why he is wearing the cone of shame. I've given him chances to prove that he can behave and not chew at his empty ball sack, but alas, only the cone will keep him from searching for his missing testicles. 

I'm a little jealous that my cat got a tattoo before I did. Not jealous of the gnarly cauterizing job on his sack, though (at least I think that's why it's like that.. I took him to a new vet, and they do things differently there).

So all is well in that department. Now onto the babies...

I've talked a little bit about euthanasia in some of my previous posts, and I've definitely talked about some of the nastier things I've done as a pre-vet student, but my absolute LEAST favorite thing to do, the thing that sends shivers down my spine and makes my inner child rock back and forth in a corner, is dewclaw removals and tail docking.  

I know what you're thinking. "That doesn't sound that bad. How could it be worse than euthanasia?" Well, in some cases it isn't worse, but usually (definitely not always) there is a legitimate reason for putting an animal down, and even when there isn't, it is done in the most painless, humane way possible. I can handle that. I can handle dewclaw removals and tail docking, too, but I don't like it. It takes all the strength I have to not whimper and cringe through every second of it. This is why:

Picture credit goes to dogbreedinfo.com

 Newborn freaking baby puppies. 3 days old tops. That's how old they are when their tiny, little, vestigial digits and tails are pinched, twisted, and ripped off of them. No pain killers or anything.

Honestly, the dewclaw removal I can kind of understand. They just kinda dangle there, and the puppies don't seem to be super bothered when those are removed (I mean, they still cry and shriek, but it's nothing compared to the tail docking). And there is some benefit to it, I guess, because when they get older, dewclaws do get caught on things easier and rip on their own (which heals a lot slower than purposeful removal). So there's that.

But ugh. Holding those squirming, squealing babies while you rip off their toes and cauterize the wound just feels horrible. (Picture credit goes to astraean.com.)

But tail docking? That's purely aesthetic. There is no reason for it at all except that people, for whatever reason, think it makes the breed look more appealing (some people argue that dogs sustain tail injuries, but honestly, it doesn't happen that often even to working dogs, and most of the dogs that go through this are ones that are fortunate enough to spend their lives being pampered.. like my spoiled, little turd, Otto). Much like ear cropping. And it hurts a hell of a lot more (than the dewclaw removal, I mean... ear cropping probably hurts worse than this because it's such a slow recovery). You can tell. You know, because there's this tiny puppy screaming bloody murder in your hands while its tail is being twisted off. It's the worst sound I have ever heard.

Sorry for the sad, puppy gore. (Picture credit to anti-dockingalliance.com.)

It's not like I despise people that get their dogs' tails docked or dewclaws removed or even ears cropped. I definitely won't be trying to talk anyone into it anytime soon, but this is just another one of those things I have to become accustomed to if I want to become a vet. Because I'll actually have to be the one ripping (not just the puppy holder). And it's going to suck.

I guess it gets to me so much because they're just babies, man. Just babies.

On a lighter note, here's a picture of my very own tail dockee staring intently at an apple core:

He likes to play with them and nibble on them. And guard them. Which is what he is doing here.