Before I’d met Him, I didn’t know all that much about vets or the work they do. Back then, like everyone else, I saw the happy side to the life of a vet. I thought it was pretty much all fluffy kittens and wagging puppy dog tails.
My relationship with vets spanned the life of my cat – and when he died I cried for two days solid and then my dog – who miraculously recovered from ingesting my toddler’s plastic toy and went on to live another three years. I didn’t think much about the work that they did. I paid my bill. I took my dog home. Maybe I thought vets earned a pretty good crust. Interestingly, the average electrician earns a better hourly rate. I knew it took a fair bit of discipline to graduate as a vet, let alone one with first class honours.
Now I’m married to one, I see the other side of The Vet. I see the man behind the scrubs. I see the dedication, love and absolute passion for a job that so often is rewarding but at times can also be destroying. I see a man who is rarely home in time for dinner and even less of the time gets to watch the 11 y o at soccer practice. I see a man who never gets lunch because his consults are more important. I see the countless hours he pours into his research for answers and cures. I see a man who even though he smiles to the outside world, at night lets me inside his head too. I hear the stories of four-hour long surgeries, of pet’s lives hanging in the balance, of owners crippled by their grief. I look into his eyes and see a tiny piece of his soul die every time he can’t save a pet’s life. I see a man who also carries the loss of each and every of them on his own shoulders. I see a man who wears that pain and grief of families as they say their final goodbyes. I see the man who has to be the one to give the final dose. I see a man who works tirelessly. And rarely sleeps well. I hear him take calls in the middle of the night. I see him so often give up his Saturday nights, his Sundays – our time – and almost every evening.
And I also see the people who worship him like Elvis. Who bake him cakes. Who send him cards. Who bring him aged whiskey. I listen as they talk of the man they adore almost as much as I do. Gush about ‘their vet’, who’s not only hot but also happens to have the kindest heart in the world. I see them beam when he gets down on the floor to greet their dog, all the while letting it lick his face…and he doesn’t mind a bit.
I see the man behind the scrubs…and I’m so proud I think sometimes my heart might actually burst. He has what so few people lack, the kindest softest most loving nature of almost any human I know. He is The Vet…and my world is so much greater because he’s in it. Lov n’hugs, Lady MamaG xox