Thursday, January 12, 2012

Bob with Spotted Dog 1984


When I first met my husband, Bob, he was applying to medical school and not having much luck.  In the interim, between refusals, he took more chemistry classes, and also got a job at the Emergency Animal Clinic in Albuquerque.  He had decided that he would apply to veterinary school instead, and this job would give him the experience(and recommendations) he needed.  

It was a strange job.  It was available to people when their normal veterinary clinics were closed, so Bob worked late night shifts, helping the veterinarian on call with whatever needed to be done.  Because of this experience, Bob gained a certain expertise, especially since, at times, the vets would allow him to do procedures.  One time he set the broken leg of a cat whose owners couldn't pay, and he brought her home to be our cat. He began to have a basic idea of how to take care of the different ailments and injuries that came in. Mostly though, he did the dirty work:  cleaning cages, bagging the bodies of the ones that didn't make it, holding struggling animals down for procedures. However,  my unconscious knew what was going on, and I started to understand  that Bob was a healer, the real deal. I began making paintings of him taking care of living things, and really,  I have never stopped.

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