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thepastisalreadywritten · 6 months

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Bobi (11 May 1992 – 21 October 2023) was a male purebred Rafeiro do Alentejo dog cared for by Leonel Costa of Conqueiros, Leiria, Portugal.

On 2 February 2023, Bobi was confirmed as the first dog on record to live to the age of 30, along with being the oldest dog on record to ever live.

On 11 May 2023, Bobi turned 31.

🖤🕯️🖤

#Bobi #Rafeiro do Alentejo dog #Leonel Costa #Portugal #World's Oldest Dog #Guinness World Records #Serviço Medico-Veterinário do Município de Leiria #Veterinary Medical Service of the Municipality of Leiria #SIAC #SNMV #Sindicato Nacional dos Médicos Veterinários #National Union of Veterinarians #old-aged dogs #dogs #animals

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delimeful · 3 months

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OOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!! FLUFFY WIBAR BABYS!!!!!! THIS IS AMAZING!!!! VIRGIL IS JUST SO CONCERNED WHILE THE BABIES ARE JUST "YES! TREE! LAUNCH PAD! PATTON APPROVES SO THERE IS NOTHING TO FEAR" WHILE VIRGIL IS LIKE "THERE IS EVERYTHING TO FEAR! THEY ARE SO FLUFFY AND CUTE I WILL DIE BUT I CAN'T BECAUSE I MIGHT SQUISH THEM!"

I love that Logan just pulls out a camera. He's so interested in learning about Humans "oh God it's cute I must save it" instinct. Roman gets to witness Human Childcare Instinct in real time.

^ real footage of virgil when faced with ampen fledglings

#the idea of virgil being a weepy drunk is so funny to me #show him a picture of a kitten and he instantly starts sniffling #THEY'RE JUST SO LITTLE... IN THIS BIG CRUEL WORLD...#WE HAVE TO DEFEND THEM...#he's giving aliens a very skewed idea of what veterinary assistants do #wibar #ampen fledglings #ts virgil #gif #asks #thecatchat #queue

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ioag · 1 year

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Bolesław Leśmian - The Girl

Twelve brothers who believed in dreams, scouted a wall among phantasms; Beyond the wall there cried a voice - voice of a Girl long gone through chasms.

They fell in love with voice’s sound and with their own wishful believing, And tried to guess shape of her lips from how her song died out in grieving.

They said “she cries therefore she is” - and nothing else they said but wondered, They blessed the world with sign of cross - and then the world grew still and pondered.

The hammers held in hardened hands, they launched against the walls in clamor! And night was blind, and couldn’t tell: which part was man and which - the hammer?

“Let’s hurry and undo cold stone, before in death the Girl’s enrusted!” The youngest brother thus cried out - and in their hammers’ strength they trusted.

But all their efforts were in vain, their arms exertions and pain - futile! They sacrificed their bodies to the dream enticing, yet so brutal!

Their chests caved in, their bones crushed down, decayed their hands and faded faces… They died together in one day and shared one night’s eternal spaces.

But dead men’s shadows - my good Lord! - instead of stopping they persisted! And they went on, in eerie time - the hammers’ sounds continued, twisted.

They clanged ahead! And back they clashed! And upwards in resounding clamor! And night was blind, and couldn’t tell: which part was shade and which - the hammer?

“Let’s hurry and undo cold stone, before in death the Girl’s enrusted!” The youngest shadow thus cried out - and in their hammers’ strength they trusted.

But suddenly their strength had waned, night came and they were overpowered! And - since you never die enough - they died again, by dark devoured.

Never enough, never the way the moribund would want, departing!… Their substance - lost without a trace, their story closed instead of starting!

But stalwart hammers - my good Lord! - didn’t surrender to bereavement! And on their own they fought the wall, rumbling for naught but the achievement!

They rumbled forth through days and nights, sweating like humans do, through clamor! And night was blind, and couldn’t tell: what’s hammer if not just a hammer?

“Let’s hurry and undo cold stone, before in death the Girl’s enrusted!” The youngest hammer thus cried out - and in their own pure strength they trusted.

And the wall fell with booming crash, sounding through every nook and cranny! Alas! Beyond they found no Girl, only the waiting void; uncanny.

There was no eyes! There was no lips! Nobody’s fate needed securing! There was but voice - and only voice, nothing but voice tempting and luring!

Nothing but night, and cries, and grief, and loss in every uttered letter! This is the world! Such awful world! Couldn’t it have been different, better?

Against the dreams that lied out loud, against the wish obliterated, The hammers finally went to rest, relief deserved and so belated.

And there was silence all around! The emptiness reigning forever! Why do you mock that emptiness although it doesn’t mock you ever?

Translation: Maria Gral

#Poland #Polska #linguistics #poetry #poems #wiersze #Leśmian #Lesman #translation #writing #Irian writes stuff #signal boosts are deeply appreciated btw #Leśmian deserves to be read by the whole wide world #i.o.a.g.#veterinary #art #uvlight #veterinaryjobs #sunset

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vetrehberi · 4 days

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2024 Dünya Veteriner Hekimler Günü “Veteriner Hekimler Temel Sağlık Çalışanlarıdır” Dünya Veteriner Hekimler Günümüz kutlu olsun.

#vet #vetrehberi #veterinary #pet #animal #veteriner #dünya veteriner hekimler günü #world veterinary day #world vet day #one health #world design day #vets

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subby-sab · 4 days

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Today is 27th April.

Today is World Veterinary Day, World Tapir Day, Morse Code Day, National Prime Rib Day.

#world veterinary day #world tapir day #morse code day #national prime rib day

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chuffineckjames · 1 year

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It's World Veterinary Day. Let's appreciate our favs.

#world veterinary day #acgas #all creatures great and small #nicholas ralph #samuel west #callum Woodhouse #pbs #channel 5 #animals

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camelots-daffodil · 1 year

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Happy World Vet Day!!! Couldn’t be prouder to be working towards a career with all the amazing women and men working in veterinary medicine! Be sure to appreciate ur amazing vets for looking after all your pets and all that they do behind the scenes! 💪🐶🩺

#world vet day #veterinary medicine #it was my unis vet ball tonight so double celebration!#vet med #vet school #vet science #vetblr

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dooodle-bug · 2 years

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Important! Please look if you can!

Hey guys, I dont normally ask of this or make these kinda posts but I'm going through a bit of a tough time right now.

Essentially, a couple days ago my cat Finn had a urinary obstruction, meaning that he couldn't pee and his bladder was full, putting him in a life threatening risk of bladder rupture, kidney failure, and likely, death.

We got him to the ER in time, however things have gotten worse as he had another urinary blockage. The vet recommended we could do surgery to help increase his likelihood of survival, however it (and his current commendations) are extremely costly. In fact, 9 out of 10 people chose to put their cat down instead of proceed with the surgery.

There's more information on the gofundme page, if you could look that would be extremely appreciated, but essentially, we need your help in assisting in funding for my cat's life.

Finn means a lot to me and I love him so so much. I don't want him to die, and if you could share, or maybe even donate just a little bit, it would be really really appreciated, thanks for reading if you did :o)

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thepastisalreadywritten · 4 months

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NOTE:

“While our review is ongoing, we have decided to temporarily pause applications on both the record titles for oldest dog living and ever until all of our findings are in place and have been communicated,” the spokespersonn said.

She added that it would be misleading to suggest that Bobi had been stripped of his title as “no action has been taken in relation to any record holders yet.”

#Bobi #Portuguese mastiff #Guinness World Records #Royal College of Veterinary Surgeons #genetic testing #Leonel Costa #Portugal #oldest dog record #national pet database

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groundcontrol21 · 2 years

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Sicktember #12

Prompt #12: Psychogenic Fever/Stress Induced Illness

Fandom: All Creatures Great and Small (TV)

Title: Stretched Thin

Summary: After taking on the brunt of the work at the practice while Siegfried and Tristan are away, is it any wonder all the stress causes James Heriot to fall ill? Still, there’s no rest for him, not when a difficult bovine birth case needs his attention.

James Heriot went to sleep a bit more tired than usual, and woke with his alarm the next morning feeling as though he had been trampled by every one of his equine patients. It took every ounce of energy he had to lift himself off the pillow and sit upright; once he was vertical and had broken through the inertia, he felt only marginally less miserable, terrible shivers assaulting him as his blankets slipped away.

The one consolation was that Tristan was not there to chatter at him from the adjoining room; he and Siegfried were away in York for a conference (Siegfried having cajoled Tristan to follow by means of various threats). But then again, it was probably just as much the fault of this fact that James was ill in the first place: between covering all of Siegfried’s patients this week and seeing to the preliminary rounds of judging for the spring fair last week, he had been run absolutely ragged. No, it was not surprising that his immune system had chosen this time to fail, only supremely disappointing.

James dressed himself in his warmest sweater, despite the fact that it was almost May, and took three handkerchiefs with him instead of one. Feeling as though he were moving through treacle, he shuffled down the stairs to the kitchen, wishing he could have tucked a blanket round his shoulders to chase away his chills.

Mrs. Hall was at the stovetop, frying up eggs and sausage. James was forced to stop in the doorway to the kitchen, clinging to the frame for support with one hand and clutching his handkerchief to his face with the other. Helpless, he curled forward and buried his nose in the cloth. “Heh’ITSHHH’ooo! Ihh’hehh’HISHHH! Snf! Ihhh… Snf! HESHHOOO!”

Blinking blearily and believing himself done for the moment, James shuffled to the table and plopped heavily down in his usual chair. But the reprieve was merely a pause, for he shot forward with another desperate sneeze, barely managing to smother it with the handkerchief. “HESHH’uhh! Snf!” He groaned softly and blew his nose, quiet as he could so as not to be utterly disgusting, in the aftermath.

“Oh dear,” Mrs. Hall said worriedly. James shut his eyes as his head pounded, feeling her place the back of her hand against his forehead. She tsked reproachfully at the warmth she found there. “You’ve been stretched far too thin recently. That’s why you’ve come down ill.”

He agreed with her assessment completely, but before he could tell her so, the phone rang, the tinny sound sending jolts of pain through his aching head. James’s eyes slitted open at the sound. “And I’m about to be stretched even thinner, I’d imagine.”

Before she could stop him, he hauled himself to his feet to answer the phone. “James Heriot speaking.”

“It’s Mary Dawson,” the caller said, and James recognized both the voice and the name as belonging to the owner of a pregnant cow with no shortage of issues. “I’m sorry to call so early but it’s Rosie. She’s gone into labor but something… Something just isn’t right with her.”

James nodded; from all the pains and troubles he or Siegfried had been called to investigate throughout the pregnancy, he was not surprised that the birth should prove difficult as well. “I’ll be there in half an hour,” he said resolutely, and hung up the phone. Just as soon as he had placed the receiver back, he bent double with an explosive sneeze. “Heh’RSHHHH’uhh! Snf! Heh’ISHHHH!”

“I know my ears must be stuffed with cotton,” Mrs. Hall said disapprovingly, “because I know I didn’t just hear you agree to go out like this.”

James blinked up at her, bleary and sniffling. “I have to, Mrs. Hall.” He wiped at his nose with his handkerchief, tucking it away and continuing when Mrs. Hall continued to look less than impressed. “The Dawson’s cow is birthing her problem calf, the one that’s been giving her trouble through the whole pregnancy. Someone has to be there.”

Mrs. Hall chewed her lip, then sighed and said, “Hopefully Siegfried and Tristan will be home by the time you get back. That way I can send you off to bed and tie you down if you won’t stay.”

James opened his mouth to chuckle, but a sneeze escaped him instead. “That won’t be necessary, Mrs. Hall,” he assured her truthfully, for even now there was nothing more he’d like to do than collapse back into bed and sleep until this dreadful flu had passed him by.

As a condition for allowing him to go (as if she honestly could have stopped him), Mrs. Hall ensured James was bundled in an overcoat and scarf. Despite his initial protestations–it was spring after all–James soon found himself quite glad of her foresight as he made the drive through the fine morning mist to the Dawson’s farm. The layers helped keep his shivering to a minimum, though the bone-deep ache that made even turning the steering wheel a monumental effort assured him that, if he did not have one already, a fever was surely on his way.

As soon as James exited the car, he was greeted by the Dawsons and one of their daughters, each one of them hovering with a tension taught enough to make a rope snap. Mr. Dawson held out his hand for a shake, but all James could do, in the midst of hitching breaths, was shake his head frantically.

The sneezes came on too quickly for James to fish out a handkerchief, so he muffled them into the knit of his scarf instead. “Heh’KMPFFF! Hehhh’RMMPHHH!” He emerged from the fabric, snuffling and coughing slightly. “I’m quite ill at the moment,” he said, “so–snf!--perhaps we’d better not.”

Mr. Dawson nodded in silent acceptance; whether he could not speak or merely preferred not to, James was not sure, but regardless, he left all the talking to his wife. Mrs. Dawson clucked her tongue and beckoned for her daughter.

“Lily,” she said, waving vaguely in the direction of the house, “go make the poor boy some tea.”

The girl nodded and took off. “Yes, mummy.”

Mrs. Dawson turned back to James with an apologetic look. “We’re terribly sorry to drag you out when you’re poorly.”

“No, none of that,” James tried to assure her, wishing his voice didn’t sound quite so much like he had swallowed half the gravel road. “You did the right thing.”

Mrs. Dawson cast him one more meek and doubtful look, before she and her husband led James to the pen where Rosie was being kept. The Dawson’s eldest son, Ralph or Roger or something of that nature, was waiting by the gate to the pen. When he saw James approach, he removed his cap and stuck out his hand. At any other time, James would have appreciated the good manners that ran in the family, but at the moment it was rankling him to have to keep admitting to being unwell, even though from his general state of being it was surely a bit obvious.

James dipped away from the boy. “Heh’KSHHH’ooo! Snf!” He swiped a quick knuckle at his nose. “Sorry,” he croaked. “I’ve come down with something.” The boy retracted his hand and watched him warily, causing James to add, “I’ll do my best not to let it spread to you.”

The Dawsons and their boy followed James into the pen as he slowly approached the cow, who had pressed herself to the fencing and was lowing in pain. James examined her and found the cause of her distress quite quickly; the calf which had been causing her agony throughout its gestation was not leaving without a final fight. The calf was completely twisted, opposite of the direction in which it should be delivered, and would decidedly not come out without assistance.

James poked and prodded, trying to decipher the most effective and least painful way to coax the calf from its mother. He felt the presence of the Dawson couple close at his back, their combined shadow obscuring what he needed to see, and he bit back a sigh, working to keep his illness-shortened temper from creeping into his voice and making it sharp.

“If you could keep your distance,” he said mildly. His breath hitched, and he twisted violently to the side, sneezing openly on account of his hands being otherwise occupied (and dirty besides). “Ahhh’TSCHHHH!” He sniffled back the wetness the expulsion had sent forth, laughing a bit in embarrassment. He felt his cheeks color. “For multiple reasons.”

Mrs. Dawson swatted her husband on the shoulder, then shuffled them both backward to a more comfortable distance. “We’re sorry.”

“Hehhh’ISSHHHH’uhh! Snf! It’s alright. I know how nerve wracking this must be for the both of you.”

The Dawsons both nodded, and James felt guilty at his prior irritation. Still, his aches and shivers were redoubling, and it took all of his limited focus to ignore how he felt in favor of aiding Rosie and the calf. Still, he had a job to do, and damn his flu, he would complete it (and be a pile of misery later).

After a sweaty, almost nauseatingly tense stretch of time, James was finally able to birth the calf. He sighed, which gave way to a fit of coughs, when the deed was finally done, and both mother and baby were alive and well.

“Oh my God!” Mrs. Dawson gasped, her hands flying to her mouth at the sight of the calf and its mother, both dripping with blood.

“The blood’s just from a little tear since the calf was in such a bad orientation,” James rushed to reassure her, feeling again at Rosie and nodding in confirmation when he felt the small laceration. “Help me sedate her and I’ll sew her up, and she should be good as new.”

With a brisk nod, Mr. Dawson went to stroke the cow’s head as James retrieved the tranquilizer from his bag. Even without words, the man’s presence seemed to calm the animal greatly, for she hardly flinched at the injection. Gently, he helped James guide Rosie to lie on her side in the hay.

Within ten minutes, the laceration was stitched and cleaned, and James straightened up, wiping his hands on a towel. All that was left now was to wait for the cow to wake, and then he could be on his way. The knowledge that his job here would so soon be over snatched away whatever vitality the adrenaline of the situation had given him, and James swayed precariously on his feet.

Mrs. Dawson was at his side instantly, clutching at his arm. “Oh, come on and sit down. Your color’s gone.” James allowed her to lead him over to a milking stool and press her rough palm against his forehead. “You have a fever, you poor thing.”

James all but shoved her away in his desperation not to sneeze on her. “Ihh’TSSHOOO! You shouldn’t–Ahh’KSHHH!--stand so close. Snf!”

Mrs. Dawson laughed. “I have four children,” she said. “I don’t think there’s anything new left for me to catch.” She stroked his head briefly, and James almost moaned at the loveliness of the feeling, professionalism be damned.

“Come inside a moment before you go,” she added softly. “We’ll see where that girl and her tea got off to.”

James gave a shaky, raspy laugh and conceded to being ushered indoors, feeling the rawness in his throat and suddenly wanting the tea more than anything in the world. Tea, drive, then bed at last, he resolved, happy to hopefully leave any of the rest of the day’s excitement to Siegfried or Tristan. In his opinion, he had earned a little break for himself.

#please excuse any veterinary inaccuracies #i will do a lot of research for my snz fics #but watching cows give birth is where i draw the line lol #the world needs so much more historic snz fic #my writing #snzfic #acgas #sick j/ames heriot #do not reblog to non kink blogs #sicktember 2022 #sicktember day 12

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wormgremlin · 11 months

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Hi! I do not have a large following on tumblr (other than pornbots I have not had the spoons to block), but a little about me:

I am a queer, minority poc student at a vet school in the USA and I McFucking hate it here. I am from the deep south and moved cross-country two years ago and experienced very tumultuous housing for my first several months. I have a lot of my experience is in working with low income populations due to the demographics of where I worked. I am pursuing mixed animal rural/livestock medicine and have an interest in access to care. If my username was not enough of an indicator, my Special Interest is parasites.

If you would like to hear about my experience at Vet School Not To Be Named, or have me answer some questions about vet school (or if you just want whack ass stories), hmu!

#please please come talk to me if you are considering going to vet school #fair warning i may accidentally talk you out of it #if any of my clasmates see this #sup #dont u dare fucking tell anyone #it will 💯 be a what were you doing at the devils sacrament situation #if im going down for being on tumblr in the year of our lord 2023 so are you dammit #vet school #vet med #nUmBeR oNe VeT sChOoL iN tHe WoRlD #clowntown bb #veterinary #vet in progress #vetmed #vetblr #pre vet #feel free to rb #or send to someone u know pursuing vet med

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