The Church Of Jesus and Mary: Week II NFL

"The great pleasure of a dog is that you may make a fool of yourself with him and not only will he not scold you, but he will make a fool of himself too."
-- Samuel Butler 1835-1902: "Notebooks" (1912)

The neon green tag on the bars of the dog-cages reminded me of a chartreuse Rapala I’ve used at the mouth of the Salmon Trout. It was my turn to take them downstairs. You try to detach yourself. Sure the dog looked like Shadow, but I couldn’t let that interfere with my job. When times are hard toughness is required. Besides, as a technician it’s my duty to make sure my research team is desensitized to the killing. Enforcing the rules is my job, and I do it with extreme prejudice. I’m more than just an animal killer. It’s my job to see that strict documentation and ethical standards are followed. One slip. One dehydrated mouse, one unsanitary research area, and I’m in front of a disciplinary board. Janitor, cop, call me what you like, I’m committed to my work. Had to fire a guy last week. Said I was one rude dude.

The researchers get all the glory, but it’s us technicians that do the dirty work. We clean the labs, do the re-supply and prepare the chemicals. I’m proud of our facility. We’ve got hamsters, gerbils, dogs, pigs, sheep, pigs and monkeys. Over 4000 mice alone are housed here. Just one time I’d like to see those pampered student researchers handle the washroom and euthanization detail. Let them scrape up the petrified bird shit and load the cages on the conveyor-belt washer. Let them take the animals to the basement, lock them in the cage, and turn on the carbon dioxide machine. They wonder why I turn them in for clipping mouse tails for DNA samples. They don’t know what cruelty is.

Funny thing is, a dog’s what got me. A Goddamned German shepherd named Max did me in. It figures, cadaver dog, sniffing through the same mounds of garbage where I hid her. He picked up her scent in the basement of the lab where I hid the corpse.

Man’s best friend. Yea, right.