Something about petting that crazy chicken today made me laugh. Reading Rachel's comment about catching the cat reminded me of so many stories. I've worked several jobs since college, but each have involved making home visits. Because of this, I've accumulated quite a few animal stories. Because I need to giggle and take a trip down memory lane, I'll share a few stories with you.
My first crazy encounter of the animal kind occurred when I was working as a crisis counselor for flood victims. This is also when I learned to always, always, take a 360 look around a home when I first walk in. Oh my, how naive I was just out of college. :-) Anyways, I walked inside this trailer and I was looking at the male owner sitting on his couch across the front door. I had a wall behind me. I did notice these crazy looking fish to my right. I started to hear this noise behind me, this scratch, scratch noise. Then I heard something moving, something squeaky. I looked at my partner who was facing the wall behind me and I noticed that his eyes were huge. I debated turning around. Part of me didn't want to know. Finally I slowly did and to my horror, there were mice cages stacked the length of the wall from floor to ceiling. The man obviously noticed us, noticing his mice. I very calmly asked him why he would have so many. He said he had them to feed his snakes and his fish. Somehow, I knew not to ask or say another thing. My partner didn't. He asked if he really fed the fish those mice. The man said, "Sure I do, here I'll show you." Then he did. I tried not to watch. I didn't want to see, but like all train wrecks, my eyes veered that direction. Sure enough, those dumb fish were eating that poor mouse.
Note to self, in your next job, don't do home visits.
A few years later, I'm working with mentally ill individuals. I have a wonderful schizophrenic who was not going to be returning home for a long time. Somehow, I was tasked with taking her cat to the shelter. I was blessed with my dear friend Rachel, who I managed to talk into assisting me with this task. This cat HATED people. We tried being nice. I promise we did. By my recollection, we tried treats, we tried food, we tried calling her, we tried toys, and being really quite. We ended with a broom, a blanket, a cage and a lot of screaming. We won.
Note to self, in my next job, don't voluntarily do things like this.
Flash forward a few more years, now I'm at hospice. I'm talking to this lady about her mom's death. Her mom, who had died a few hours before, is laying in the hospital bed beside us. I'm trying to convince this nice lady that she has to let her mom go to a funeral home. (A whole other story). Suddenly I feel this pain, shoot up from my ankle. I raise my leg and there is this dog, hanging off the back of my leg. I had no idea the Yorkie was there and suddenly I'm drop kicking it across the room. Not the best thing to do to a family who has just experienced a death.
Note to self, 360 glance is not enough, check under objects.
Just about a month ago, I'm sitting at a kitchen table writing some information about family members. I feel something over my shoulder. I look and I am eye to eye with a mastiff. He snorts in my face and lays down. Fine. Then I feel something at my feet. A bull dog has decided that my cute shoe must be eaten, while I'm wearing them. I try not to call attention to this as the daughter of my patient is crying. I move my feet. I push the dog away. I finally take off my shoes and put them behind me. That's when the dog licked the bottom of my feet. I shrieked because it tickled and almost jumped into my nurses lap. I had to then explain why I was barefoot.
Note to self, just wear my sketchers. Forget that I own any other shoes.
Let me fast forward through chasing a dog down the street, inheriting our current dog Mocha from a schizophrenic, a snake, and a random collection of dead sea animals in aquariums full of formaldehyde.
Now, all my lessons learned lead me to today. I walk in the home. My 360 glance does not immediately send off any red flags. But wait, what is that on the back porch under the table? Yep, it's a chicken. Second glance. Chickens. OK, because of another long story that involves me running from two chickens while a patients husband watched on security cameras, I'm not a fan of chickens. But, I'm wearing my sketchers and they are on the back porch, I'll be fine. My nurse arrives and I, knowing she doesn't adhere to my 360 rule, quietly point out the chickens. The son sees her glance towards the porch and starts to talk about how sweet and nice chickens are. I smile and nod. I'm still glad they are outside. He asks if I'm afraid. I make a comment about being pecked before, but really have nothing against chickens in general. I then turn and talk to my patient. I feel his son sit next to me on the couch. He is holding a big fat chicken. "Go ahead and pet her" he says. So, I do. I pet the stupid chicken sitting on the couch, in the middle of a beautiful home, in the city.
Note to self, I'd be so bored sitting in a cubicle all day.
