To anyone who has ever met me, they have probably heard my quote for why I am not a vet. My grandfather was a vet. My Dad is a vet. Everyone in our small town thought that either my brother or I would be a vet (veterinarian) and continue the family tradition. But there is just one problem, at least for me… and it has to do with cows and their behinds.
I have very vivid memories of watching my grandfather pregnancy check horses and cows. This was done in the days before blood analysis and ultrasound. Those long gloves covered in cow pooh were more than I could take. I am not squeamish at all. I can sew up anything that will stand still (people or animal). I can do CPR on everything from people to dogs, cats, and even on a horse. Blood – no problem, pus – just something to treat, but poop… and Cow Poop has always been my downfall.
So lets fast forward a few years to the present day. I am married to a beef producer. We utilize artificial insemination as much as we can to improve our herd genetics and breed better replacement bulls for other producers.
So, guess what I am learning to do. Yes, your right – me and cow poop are becoming fast friends. I know somewhere in heaven, my PaDoc is laughing till he is crying. Yep, I am learning to voluntarily stick my arm up a cow’s behind. What’s more, I think I will be good at it too. I am used to having to depend on my hands and fingers to do jobs when I cannot see what they are doing.
So, I guess I may have to get a new quote.