Fate vs Indifference.

Perhaps I have had it all wrong this whole time?

Perhaps it is not that I am supposed to be forced into indifference, but rather the acceptance of fate? Fate beyond my stubborn dogged determination to thwart, remold, and re-imagine. Fate as the force that is dictated by something far beyond my perception.

I had to euthanize another kitten I had grown too fond of today.. One I had invested my heart and soul into, and another I refused to be "sensible, rational, or honest" about.

Last week it was Moana, the kitten with four broken legs who was too cute to refuse, and too pitiful to turn away. It was a massive exhaustive team effort to try to save her, her four broken legs and their open flesh of jagged bone. In the end the cost of trying amounted to many thousands of dollars and immeasurable stress as we all worry who might become a casualty in the disease no one unarmed wins; rabies.

Today it was Wallace. The kitten with the prolapsed rectum I spent countless hours trying to coerce into functional compliance. In the end his colon did stay inside his abdomen, but the rest of him decayed secondary to FIV (which we had tested in his intake). I lost two souls I battled over, cried over, sweated over, and refused to concede to. Even after all of this I lost. Worst of all, they had to die at my hand. I hate, absolutely hate, having to be this person. The hand of death, the last warrior in the duel I know I yield more weapons in.

I hate the grief process and the juxtaposition of knowing I did try everything, and am left to play the part of both the slayer and the fool, again.
How can I try so hard, (to bend and alter fate just a little?) and be disappointed,, again?
How many times do I keep trying even if heartbreak and losing is the cost?
Has every other veterinarian learned this lesson already?
I thought I had to avoid the "professional indifference" to preserve my "compassionate heart"?
But was this really just "unavoidable fate" the whole time?
Does acceptance lead to indifference?

I will never learn. I know no other way, and I accept the fate terms on the conditions I applied for.

So today I cried Wallace away with all the love he always had from all of us. I buried him in our pet cemetery to keep the others company. And, I moved onto another. Meet Scotty. Last week he was trapped, neutered, ear tipped and almost (should have) died on the operating table as he tried to bleed out for three hours in front of us. He didn't. He's turned into a love bug. And I'm thinking that this one might really be the one?

Scotty

 Wallace and Moana...

Celebrating on the day Wallace was adopted.

Moana

Post Script;

I secretly fear the repercussions of this post. The reminder I will get from some awful cold hearted venomous vet who has told me that I am #atrainwreck and an #idiot for every reason imaginable. Because I remain an eternal blind Polly-Anna. I try too hard. I think I can and it will be. Whatever reason they choose to hurl at me in hurtful fists and contempt. That they can take comfort in my failing is the side I grapple with confessing. It is the voice of the afraid, who still sits here heart-on-my-sleeve trying. Maybe losing here and there, maybe feeling like I haven't quite learned whatever lesson is supposed to bring me clarity. But still here. As if the self worth, doubt, and hardship isn't enough.

If you have any questions or comments please find me on Twitter at @FreePetAdvice, or ask me any pet question for free at Pawbly.com I am also at the clinic Jarrettsville Veterinary Center in Jarrettsville Maryland.