work has been all kinds of crazy of late, but this week, things seem to be a little more settled. i’m finally getting around to the piled up protocols this afternoon, when i get easily the most surreal phone call i can remember happening during work.
the woman on the line is effusively excited to be talking to a vet that deals with monkeys, and offers eternal emotional & financial gratitude if i’ll help her out.
“well,” i say, “if you’re going to love me forever, you should at least tell me who you are and how you got my number.”
turns out this person lives in the county, and recently there was a big hubbub in the news about her getting her monkey confiscated by animal control. and now she wants to have a vet on call, and have her place inspected by a vet, and go through all the USDA hoops so she can get qualified as an animal sanctuary and get her capuchin friend back. she found our company by searching for NHP vets, and i’m thinking i got this call because i’m the only one that was in-house at that time of the afternoon. she said she’d called 35 vets that day, and that nobody would even think of seeing monkeys (which, yeah, nobody wants to get their faces torn off, and that kind of special training is obtained in zoo- or lab-world, not vet school world, so our mad skillz aren’t readily publicly available).
after explaining that i don’t maintain MD licensure, and that the feds would have to be either ok with that or with one of my private practice friends going along for the ride (and a VERY clear explanation that everyone involved was utterly unwilling to do anything even vaguely grey, the USDA contact person would have to approve the entire setup), i told her to email me with her info. possibly even stranger than being asked to give a talk on transgenics at a sci-fi convention. and that, my friends, was that.