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I sit in my car, forearms draped over my steering wheel, and stare out at a sea of yellow trees and mountains. I wonder how Mother Nature can die so gracefully. I wish I had the capability of becoming more beautiful and colorful as life drains out of me like the autumn leaves. I went straight to brown when shit hit the fan, and spring never really came around again.
I’ve been sitting in my car outside my brother’s office for half an hour. I’m going in. I have to this time. I resist that voice in my head telling me I’m being a coward and remind myself that the truth is braver than lies. I need help. And there’s no one better for advice and a guiding hand than my big brother, Colton.
I get out of my car and bound up the stairs at his office. Not bothering to knock, I barge in. My boots are still muddy from my second visit to the Mendez ranch, and when Colt’s gaze leaves his screen to greet me, it tracks immediately down to where I drag mud in on his rug.
“Finished with the preg-checks?” he asks, not too bothered about my boots.
Knowing Dash, he comes in here the same way.
I plop down on his sofa. “Yeah.” I had my wand in the rest of Luis’ heifers this morning.
“You look like you didn’t enjoy yourself.” Colt sits back and folds his hands over his lap. “Don’t tell me there isn’t some advantage to having your hand up a cow’s ass on a cold day?”
A weak, uncommitted laugh leaves my lips. When I became a vet, I expected cow ass and crusty horse dicks and oozing injuries. And there, at the Mendez ranch today, it was a pleasure to check if the cows were pregnant. It was much better, and the total opposite of what I had to do afterward.
I let my head fall on the back of the sofa and stare at the ceiling. A spider hangs out in the corner.Easy life.“I don’t think I can do this anymore, Colt.” There’s no use lying to my big brother or beating around the bush. He’s a flipping mind reader anyway. “I’m not cut out for this career. I…” Saying these words out loud, ones I’ve only had in my head, whirling around in rumination for about two years, haunting me at least once a week, often more, it’s a lot. It makes it real. And my eyes glass over because of it. I concentrate on the tiny movement of the spider to stop me spinning.
“Hey… what’s going on?” Colt gets up and joins me on the sofa. “Whatever it is we can handle it.”
“No…” I melt into the cushions farther. I wish they would gobble me up. “It’s not really something we can change. I’ve been trying for two years—more probably—and it’s just…”
Colt leans against the back of the couch, props his leg up, settling in to listen to me.
“Colt… I can’t… ”Shit.My eyes sting. I blink hard. I clear my throat of all the mucus and tears building up in mysinuses and swallow to push them down. I don’t cry. “I can’t keep putting animals down. I… hate it, Colt. It kills me, and I have to do it and then go to my next call where I have to pretend to be smiles and butterflies for the next animal and client. It’s even worse in the clinic than on the farms. I feel like I have a goddamn personality disorder. It’s not healthy. It’s not human what I do.”
Colt puts a hand on my shoulder.
The spider uses its dexterous legs to wind out some thread, and I want to shrink right down to its size and hide out in a corner. But I can’t. I’m human. A shitty fucking human.
“Are you going to tell me what happened?” Colt interrupts my moment of escape into the world of that little arachnid.
I swallow thickly, take in a deep breath, and let the story out with a sigh. “After the exams today, Luis asked me to come around to his stables, as a favor, to look at his horse. He wanted me to make the call. To tell him it was all right.” I try to erase the memory of the dim soul in his horse’s eyes. “He asked me to play God. I’m no God, Colt.”
My brother rubs my arm reassuringly. He’s a cowboy, a veritable ranch man, and I don’t need to say any more for him to understand. But I still say the words that have played through my mind so many times anyway. “I’m a killer.”
“Jolie. No… I can’t let you think like that. It’s merciful…”
He says the words I’ve tried as self-soothing many times before. They don’t work. I keep telling the story as though he said nothing. “Luis asked if I could help him for a discount because times have been tight…”
I think about standing there, Luis’ eyes misted over. If times were tight, he could have done the deed himself witha shotgun. But people pay vets anyway. They pay us because making the decision is fucking hard. They pay us so they don’t go to Hell. Instead, we do.
I became a vet because I love animals. I knew this was part of the job. And I’ve spoken with enough other people in the industry to know it’s mentally tough. I thought I was tough. I reasoned that euthanasia was always a merciful thing. But when a half-ton animal, graceful and powerful on its feet as any on God’s green earth, falls to the floor in a loud, sad heap of thunder… I can hear that haunting sound in my sleep sometimes.
Luis’ dappled, gray companion wasn’t the first I sent to the rainbow bridge. I don’t know why this time has me running, heart racing, needing to escape straight to my brother. Hoping he’ll let me quit. Hoping he’ll give me another option.
I just can’t ever do that again. I don’t have it in me.
I stare out into space, speechless. There’s nothing more to say.
Colt puts an arm around me. “How long have you been feeling like this? Two years? Why didn’t you talk to me sooner?”
Because I hate letting you down. Because you already think I’m fickle and don’t know how to stay the course. And because you didn’t get into vet school so it’s the one thing I’m better than you at.I’m not sure if my face says any of this, but my mouth doesn’t. I just smash my lips into each other.
He continues. “When you say you want to quit… have you actually given this real thought? You’ve been to school and spent a lot of time getting to where you are now.”
“I don’t need your lecture, Colt. I know. I was there for every all-nighter and I got the tuition checks in the mail myself, so I know.” I sigh. “I know.” I hang my head. “That’swhy I waited so long. I’ve been trying to manage my mind over this since the very first time I did it. But every time, I just break a little more. And to top it off, clients are so demanding there’s no space to gather up my bootstraps in between.”
“You’ve waited two years to talk to me about this. Have you opened up with anyone else? I’m sure this is a standard thing in the vet community. Maybe you can get some support?”
