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Quote by Nick Trout

“Woody's life was leaking away but I was the one who stepped forward and pulled the plug. Was my timing right? Could he have had another day at home, another week? Could he have gone for one more turn around the park, had one last supper? We'll never know and to handle the reality of euthanasia I learned to be comfortable with the ambiguity and magnitude of when to take a life. All I know for sure is at that irredeemable moment when I drive the plunger home, I will be there for the person trading the overpowering presence of love and companionship with their pet for the cold, empty ache of loss.”

Quote by Nick Trout

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Nick Trout

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“I never get to step back and take the contented nothingness that exists between people and animals. Most of my interactions that place during emotional peaks and troughs: tearful hellos and good-byes, the sudden impact of stiches and incisions, bandages and casts, drains and catheters, trauma and cancer, three legs and not four. I miss everything in between, everything that counts, all the wonderful convivial silence, the accumulative fundamental background noise that motivates and drives these extremes.”

“Having come this far, exposed and candid, perhaps I can find sanctuary behind one incontestable truth pervading operating rooms across the country – the reality of everyday miracles. From time to time the inexplicable and the impossible happen. Behind a paper mask and under artificial lights I get to perform surgery on an unconscious body, the physical part of what we think of as a pet. Essentially I’m working construction. I’m the guy splicing wires, welding pipes, shoring up support beams, and generally renovating the house. All the other stuff, the important stuff, I cannot influence. These are the intangibles, the memories, the history, the bonds, the things that make a difference between a house and a home, the things that make the difference between a body covered in scales or feathers or fur and our pet. It is this everything else that eludes me. This everything else is the spirit of the animal. Under anesthesia, it might move out for a while, but when the surgery is done and the gas turned off, it comes back. In our worst-case scenario, regardless of whether it returns or not, it doesn’t cease to exist. Anesthesia is just a training run for the soul.”

“Most likely my thoughts were overshadowed by a hankering for a smaller hand size or a larger breed of patient. This was going to be tight – one-handed bomb disposal down a rabbit hole. This close to a beating heart, cutting the wrong connection or failing to cut it clean could be fatal.”

“Many people kennel train their dogs when they first take them home. Many people don’t carrier train their cats. They shove their cat into a carrier, have the cat panicking in the carrier, and then expect their vet to deal with the cat that’s fighting tooth and nail (pun intended). There needs to be a shift in mentality regarding cats and their carriers. Cats can be trained, and they can benefit from the safety and comfort of their carriers too.”

“Arms still crossed, Lindsay's clogs tapped on the sidewalk. “So Sam didn’t tell you I was a desperate orphan child with no life outside of work? This isn’t some kind of intervention, some kind of lame attempt to cheer me up?” He grinned.“Why would she do that?” “Because that’s how it sounded.” Nudging her shoulder, he grinning down at her. “You don’t look desperate, Dr. Lindsay, not by a long shot." “That’s because you don’t know me.” Lindsay bit her lower lip, arms still crossed, clogs still tap-tap-tapping. Her chest heaved. “My parent’s died in a car accident almost two years ago. It’s a difficult thing to get over. I’m still not exactly right. I guess she worries about me.” Ty sucked in his breath, thinking fast. “I’m really sorry about your parents, Linds.” As he put an arm around her shoulder, she broke into a self-conscious smile and shook her head. “Spend any time with me at all and you’ll find that Sam’s right. I’m a desperate orphan child, completely paranoid and irrepressibly horny.” “Whoa!” She looked so cute, but vulnerable, too. He closed the arm around her shoulder, squeezing her sideways to his chest. Embarrassed, she smiled as she elbowed his rib. Then she dropped her arms and stayed put, tucked close against him. It felt right, having her there.”

“Reading Rayya’s journals today, and comparing her secret pain with the mighty persona she presented in public, I can see that she did not wish to admit powerlessness to anyone—not even to the God of her own understanding, whoever and whatever that may have been. She didn’t want anyone knowing her “business,” she wasn’t making time for any spiritual practices, and she definitely didn’t want anyone telling her she shouldn’t be drinking. There was no “life on life’s terms” happening here. The terms were all Rayya’s. And since Rayya was the biggest, toughest, smartest, coolest, most badass bitch around here, her terms were always some extremely convincing version of “I got this.” But she didn’t got it, was the problem. And instead of asking for direction from a higher power, she just kept asking herself.”