One summer, many years ago, I had some major stomach issues. Eventually, I went to the doctor and found out that I had contracted not one, not two, but three intestinal “bugs." This got me a slew of medications…and a phone call.
“Hello?” I said, answering the phone.
“This is Talk Fast Listen Later from the health department. The hospital reported that you have contracted X, Y and Z diseases, is this true?”
“Yes.”
“I’m going to ask you a series of questions to try to determine where you might have contracted them. Please answer as accurately as possible.”
“Okay, but this isn’t--”
“Have you been out of the country in the past several weeks?”
“No, but--”
“Have you eaten at any restaurants in the past few weeks?”
“No, but--”
“How about fast food?”
“No.” I rolled my eyes, and because I had time, I let the idiot ask me all (100) of his stupid questions.
At the end of his survey, he sounded quite perplexed and asked, “Do you have any idea where you might have contracted the diseases?”
“Hmm…” I said as if racking my brain for an answer. “I wonder if I got them from the captive beaver colony I work with?”
Monday, June 20, 2011
Monday, June 13, 2011
Alien Abduction...of a Bear.
One Friday evening, while I was sitting on my couch, stuffing my face and watching television, I got a phone call.
“Get dressed,” my friend said.
(Did I mention it was 6pm and I was in my PJs…and my friend knows me well?)
“Why?” I asked, gearing up for a fight. If she didn’t give me a really, really, really good reason, I wasn’t getting dressed.
“A bear escaped.”
“Pick me up in five.”
On the way to the bear facility, I wondered how a bear could escape. When I got there and watched the video, I got my answer. The bear had stood on her tiptoes and pulled herself through a small hole in the ceiling. Because of the camera angle, all we saw was the bottom half of the bear, dancing, and then “POOF” she appeared to get sucked upward…as if being abducted by aliens.
Oh, and in case you’re wondering…everything turned out fine. She was stuck in a crawl space. We got her safely back to her pen…and covered the hole.
“Get dressed,” my friend said.
(Did I mention it was 6pm and I was in my PJs…and my friend knows me well?)
“Why?” I asked, gearing up for a fight. If she didn’t give me a really, really, really good reason, I wasn’t getting dressed.
“A bear escaped.”
“Pick me up in five.”
On the way to the bear facility, I wondered how a bear could escape. When I got there and watched the video, I got my answer. The bear had stood on her tiptoes and pulled herself through a small hole in the ceiling. Because of the camera angle, all we saw was the bottom half of the bear, dancing, and then “POOF” she appeared to get sucked upward…as if being abducted by aliens.
Oh, and in case you’re wondering…everything turned out fine. She was stuck in a crawl space. We got her safely back to her pen…and covered the hole.
Monday, June 6, 2011
What Kind of Bears are Those?
I’m asked many questions—some dumber than others—about bears and wildlife. One such stupid question came from Joe Public just a few weeks ago when I was participating in a grizzly bear workshop. Let me be clear. This workshop was hosted by a facility that houses grizzly bears in a zoo-like setting. The bears have indoor and outdoor runs and access to a large yard with a jungle gym. It’s like a zoo, but not. We were working with an immobilized bear, when a large group of spectators began to congregate and ask questions. Many times while working at this facility, I’ve heard, “Are those grizzly bears?” and “Are those black bears?” but not until this day did I hear, “Are those captive bears?”
Monday, May 30, 2011
Miracles do Happen
This is a story for those who love dogs…and those who know my freak of an Aussie. For those of you who don’t know him, let’s just say I could write a book about his antics.
I’ve heard many stories about dogs attacking porcupines and ending up in the vet hospital with a face full of quills. A friend of mine had it happen just last week. When he told me the story, I smiled because not only do I LOVE porcupines, my dog Tucker and I saw one the same day.
While on a hike, I rounded a corner in the road. Tuck was ahead of me, watching something in the bushes and wagging his nub of a tail. He took a step toward it then looked at me and wagged again. I saw the bushes move, so I peeked in for a closer look. There it was, an adorable porcupine waddling through the brush and up the hill.
And for once in my life, Tucker listened to me...and remained quill-less.
I’ve heard many stories about dogs attacking porcupines and ending up in the vet hospital with a face full of quills. A friend of mine had it happen just last week. When he told me the story, I smiled because not only do I LOVE porcupines, my dog Tucker and I saw one the same day.
While on a hike, I rounded a corner in the road. Tuck was ahead of me, watching something in the bushes and wagging his nub of a tail. He took a step toward it then looked at me and wagged again. I saw the bushes move, so I peeked in for a closer look. There it was, an adorable porcupine waddling through the brush and up the hill.
And for once in my life, Tucker listened to me...and remained quill-less.
Monday, May 23, 2011
I Have Taken My Fair Share of Bears to the Vet Hospital.
One such occasion occurred at two a.m. I got a call from a technician who was feeding the captive bears (yes, at two a.m.).
“You need to get out here,” he said.
“What happened?”
“One of the bears is injured.”
“So badly I need to get out of bed? Did you call the boss?”
“He’s not answering and his machine isn’t picking up.”
Smart man.
“I’ll be there in a few.”
Sure enough, when I arrived, one of the bears was walking funny. We got a flashlight (cause it’s dark at two a.m., we didn’t have outside lights, and the bear wouldn’t come inside) and realized one of her front paws had been torn open so badly we could see bones.
I called my boss again. No answer. Then I called the vet hospital and told them we’d be there with a sub-adult female grizzly in 45 minutes. Then, don’t ask me how (I don’t remember), but somehow, we darted the bear…in the dark.
When we arrived at the vet hospital, one resident and one fourth-year vet student were waiting for us. We pulled the bear off the truck and onto the gurney, and their eyes got huge! Nothing like instilling confidence in your clients.
The resident took a look at the paw and gave us several options. I again called my boss. After all, it was his money. When he didn’t answer, I decided on a minor procedure and antibiotics. When the vet and student started wheeling the bear toward the operating room, they looked back at us and said, “Uh…you coming?”
“Sure,” we said and followed, knowing they were scared shitless.
As the procedure progressed and the fourth year student got more comfortable with the bear and her duty as anesthesiologist, she forgot to pay attention.
“You need to give her more gas,” I said, thinking I saw signs of the bear coming out of the drug.
“Are you sure?” She blankly looked at the bear then me.
Granted, the bear had long burned through the drugs we had administered and I had never seen a bear on isoflurane before. And yes, she was the anesthesiologist, the one with the knowledge and experience with the drug, so no, I wasn’t 100% positive.
That was, until the bear lifted her head and growled.
“You need to get out here,” he said.
“What happened?”
“One of the bears is injured.”
“So badly I need to get out of bed? Did you call the boss?”
“He’s not answering and his machine isn’t picking up.”
Smart man.
“I’ll be there in a few.”
Sure enough, when I arrived, one of the bears was walking funny. We got a flashlight (cause it’s dark at two a.m., we didn’t have outside lights, and the bear wouldn’t come inside) and realized one of her front paws had been torn open so badly we could see bones.
I called my boss again. No answer. Then I called the vet hospital and told them we’d be there with a sub-adult female grizzly in 45 minutes. Then, don’t ask me how (I don’t remember), but somehow, we darted the bear…in the dark.
When we arrived at the vet hospital, one resident and one fourth-year vet student were waiting for us. We pulled the bear off the truck and onto the gurney, and their eyes got huge! Nothing like instilling confidence in your clients.
The resident took a look at the paw and gave us several options. I again called my boss. After all, it was his money. When he didn’t answer, I decided on a minor procedure and antibiotics. When the vet and student started wheeling the bear toward the operating room, they looked back at us and said, “Uh…you coming?”
“Sure,” we said and followed, knowing they were scared shitless.
As the procedure progressed and the fourth year student got more comfortable with the bear and her duty as anesthesiologist, she forgot to pay attention.
“You need to give her more gas,” I said, thinking I saw signs of the bear coming out of the drug.
“Are you sure?” She blankly looked at the bear then me.
Granted, the bear had long burned through the drugs we had administered and I had never seen a bear on isoflurane before. And yes, she was the anesthesiologist, the one with the knowledge and experience with the drug, so no, I wasn’t 100% positive.
That was, until the bear lifted her head and growled.
Monday, May 16, 2011
Rocks for Brains
Sorry for missing last week folks. BOTH, yes both, of my computers died.
I thought I’d take a break from stories about me being chased by wildlife and tell another story about my not so wonderful tech, “Rock Star.”
Rock Star only lasted a month, but in that short time, he gave me quite a bit of material. I’ve told a few driving stories, but none about him. He was one of the worst.
On a particularly long day of work, he was driving toward me in a government truck and going so fast the truck caught air over small bumps in the road. When he slid to a stop next to me, I warned him to drive slowly and stay on the right side of the road, especially around blind corners.
“Yeah, yeah, I know. I’m sorry,” was the response I got.
Five days later, I got a call at home from my boss. One of my crew members had an altercation with Josephine Public on the same day I had warned Rock Star. My crew member almost drove her off the side of the road and didn’t stop. Josephine Public chased down my crew member, demanding an apology. Surprisingly *cough* my crew member wouldn’t apologize. He said she was at fault. So she wrote his license plate number down and reported him. Hence the phone call I received.
Hence, the firing of “Rock Star.”
I thought I’d take a break from stories about me being chased by wildlife and tell another story about my not so wonderful tech, “Rock Star.”
Rock Star only lasted a month, but in that short time, he gave me quite a bit of material. I’ve told a few driving stories, but none about him. He was one of the worst.
On a particularly long day of work, he was driving toward me in a government truck and going so fast the truck caught air over small bumps in the road. When he slid to a stop next to me, I warned him to drive slowly and stay on the right side of the road, especially around blind corners.
“Yeah, yeah, I know. I’m sorry,” was the response I got.
Five days later, I got a call at home from my boss. One of my crew members had an altercation with Josephine Public on the same day I had warned Rock Star. My crew member almost drove her off the side of the road and didn’t stop. Josephine Public chased down my crew member, demanding an apology. Surprisingly *cough* my crew member wouldn’t apologize. He said she was at fault. So she wrote his license plate number down and reported him. Hence the phone call I received.
Hence, the firing of “Rock Star.”
Monday, May 2, 2011
Killer Koalas
Okay, so they’re not that bad. Actually, they’re quite cute, but sometimes, the males can be real assholes. I was working at a zoo and feeding one such male. As I was feeding him, he climbed out of his tree and came after me. I looked at him and thought, “Are you kidding me? I’ve worked with grizzlies and porcupines and killer caribou! You don’t scare me!” But as he kept waddling after me (koalas are not fast), I wondered what I would do if it decided to climb up my leg and take a bite out of my thigh.
My first instinct was to kick the little sucker. But I quickly realized, I’d get myself in trouble. I imagined the koala flying through the air like a football and smacking against the wall. Then I envisioned myself trying to explain to the koala keepers why one of their beloved koalas was lying broken on the floor. Not wanting to deal with the wrath of the keepers, I changed my tactic.
I ran.
My first instinct was to kick the little sucker. But I quickly realized, I’d get myself in trouble. I imagined the koala flying through the air like a football and smacking against the wall. Then I envisioned myself trying to explain to the koala keepers why one of their beloved koalas was lying broken on the floor. Not wanting to deal with the wrath of the keepers, I changed my tactic.
I ran.
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