When you look at my past, it's almost a no-brainer why I became an ACO. And this story is yet another testament of my destiny. This particular event happened in about 1993. Names have not been revealed to protect the disgusted, my wonderful big sister who put up with a LOT in my drinking days.
In the years prior to becoming an ACO, I was working at a Veterinary hospital. One of several that I would work at through the years.
One night my sister and some friends and I went out on a girl's night out. Drinking and having fun. Probably more drinking than fun. On the way home, things started spinning for me so I hollered at my sister, our designated driver to pull over. She pulled off the freeway and a couple of us scrambled out for fresh air. I was leaning over a guardrail, relieving my stomach, when I spotted a couple balls of fluff, one gray, one orange.
Feral kittens. I’m not sure why they were right there in that very spot, but there they were.
“Kid-enz!” I slurred. Dressed in high-heels, that in my condition I was already having a difficult time walking in, and a mini skirt, I stumbled over the guardrail. I managed to grab the little orange kitten and clutched it to my chest. I looked around for the other one but it had disappeared. I felt kind of bad that I wouldn't be able to find the other one tonight so I weaved and wobbled my way back to the car.
“LoooooKy, wha' I found….a kiden.” I crowed proudly showing off my “rescue” to my friends.
My sister was not pleased to say the least.
“You are not bringing that cat in my car!” She told me. I can remember standing there feeling like a weeble-wobble toy.
“Aww, comm-on….ish jus a kiden.” I held it up for her to see, as if she couldn't already. Her nose wrinkled and she took a step back.
“Gross! No way! Oh my god, you ralphed on it!”
I could hear our other drunken companions laughing.
Then in the murky depths of my pickled brain I managed to get an idea.
“Hey, hey…HEY! My hoss-pit-ol isn't far, take me there and I’ll jus drop kiden off til ta-mar-O. Puuu-lesh?” I was again holding kitten close.
I think my sister knew she wasn't going to win this one, so she reluctantly agreed to take me to the hospital I worked at. It really wasn't too far away.
We pulled into the parking lot of my place of employment. The hospital operated on normal business hours so no one was there. But being an employee, I had the alarm code and key. And this was of coarse for a good cause.
It was a little tricky getting in regardless. In my condition, it took three attempts to punch in the code. Any more that three and the cops are notified. Being an animal hospital with controlled drugs on the premises, they would have arrived quickly. But with a sign of relief I was able to get in without incidence. Everyone else waited in the car.
I Set kitty up in a cage with food and water and for good measure I wrote a note to the kennel attendant and vet for the morning so they wouldn't wonder how this stray cat got into the cage in the hospital. My job was complete.
So the next day, I get to work in the afternoon. The vet was fine with what I had done and I filled him in on the details. Especially since there was a question of why the kitten smelled so bad. The vet also had a good laugh when he handed me a note that looked like a three year old wrote it. It was my note.
I did bathe kitten and the vet gave him a through exam. Determining that he was healthy, he was given the name "Ralph".
Ralph was soon adopted by a long time hospital client, who laughed when she was told the story of how he came to be. She also promised that his name would always be Ralph.
One night my sister and some friends and I went out on a girl's night out. Drinking and having fun. Probably more drinking than fun. On the way home, things started spinning for me so I hollered at my sister, our designated driver to pull over. She pulled off the freeway and a couple of us scrambled out for fresh air. I was leaning over a guardrail, relieving my stomach, when I spotted a couple balls of fluff, one gray, one orange.
Feral kittens. I’m not sure why they were right there in that very spot, but there they were.
“Kid-enz!” I slurred. Dressed in high-heels, that in my condition I was already having a difficult time walking in, and a mini skirt, I stumbled over the guardrail. I managed to grab the little orange kitten and clutched it to my chest. I looked around for the other one but it had disappeared. I felt kind of bad that I wouldn't be able to find the other one tonight so I weaved and wobbled my way back to the car.
“LoooooKy, wha' I found….a kiden.” I crowed proudly showing off my “rescue” to my friends.
My sister was not pleased to say the least.
“You are not bringing that cat in my car!” She told me. I can remember standing there feeling like a weeble-wobble toy.
“Aww, comm-on….ish jus a kiden.” I held it up for her to see, as if she couldn't already. Her nose wrinkled and she took a step back.
“Gross! No way! Oh my god, you ralphed on it!”
I could hear our other drunken companions laughing.
Then in the murky depths of my pickled brain I managed to get an idea.
“Hey, hey…HEY! My hoss-pit-ol isn't far, take me there and I’ll jus drop kiden off til ta-mar-O. Puuu-lesh?” I was again holding kitten close.
I think my sister knew she wasn't going to win this one, so she reluctantly agreed to take me to the hospital I worked at. It really wasn't too far away.
We pulled into the parking lot of my place of employment. The hospital operated on normal business hours so no one was there. But being an employee, I had the alarm code and key. And this was of coarse for a good cause.
It was a little tricky getting in regardless. In my condition, it took three attempts to punch in the code. Any more that three and the cops are notified. Being an animal hospital with controlled drugs on the premises, they would have arrived quickly. But with a sign of relief I was able to get in without incidence. Everyone else waited in the car.
I Set kitty up in a cage with food and water and for good measure I wrote a note to the kennel attendant and vet for the morning so they wouldn't wonder how this stray cat got into the cage in the hospital. My job was complete.
So the next day, I get to work in the afternoon. The vet was fine with what I had done and I filled him in on the details. Especially since there was a question of why the kitten smelled so bad. The vet also had a good laugh when he handed me a note that looked like a three year old wrote it. It was my note.
I did bathe kitten and the vet gave him a through exam. Determining that he was healthy, he was given the name "Ralph".
Ralph was soon adopted by a long time hospital client, who laughed when she was told the story of how he came to be. She also promised that his name would always be Ralph.
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