This story was originally published on my vet school blog, “Wet Cleanup on Aisle 5.”
So long, Vick.
Yesterday was our final exam in anatomy, and when it was over, all of our dogs–the dogs we’ve been dissecting all semester–were wheeled away on gurneys, never to be seen again.
It made me a little sad. I am mourning a dog I never actually met.
He was a big, beautiful pit bull, an intact male and a total badass. He needed a nail trim.
We named him Vick, not to honor the sports star of the same name, but to take back the name. To honor all the dogs who looked like ours and who’d been made to fight. Our Vick certainly took a beating in our unskilled hands.
Over the course of the semester, we studied his muscles, bones, nerves, blood vessels, and organs. We learned how they fit together, and how they came apart.
All of our cadaver animals came from the local humane society–animals that, for whatever reason, were deemed unadoptable. The U.S. euthanizes 7 million unwanted companion animals each year, a horrifying failure on our part. I take comfort in knowing that at least our dog got a second chance at life, in a way. How many animals will be helped by his existence?
Every dog that I and my classmates treat in our careers will benefit from our interaction with this one.
His last meal was carpet and nails. I think about how sad his life must have been. I hope he is somewhere better, with lots of meaty bones and belly rubs.
I spent over a hundred hours with good ol’ Vick, and learned so much from him.
I held his heart in my hands, and in a way, he held mine.
So long, Vick. Rest in peace.
