I received a review copy of this from the publisher/author through Edelweiss+. I am an animal lover and was interested in learning more from a vet's perspective... and Dr. Mader had a practice in a rather challenging area. From the description, you'll know that this takes place over a year's time in "the early 1990s" - 1991 to 1992 to narrow that down. That was 30 years ago! The first questions that came to mind were: Does he have an eidetic memory? (If so, a subtheme throughout this book shouldn't have been a problem!) Was he a prolific journaler? Given the pace and schedule of what we learn here, I don't see how he had time. Or, did he write this long ago and only now is publishing it? A clue to that answer is in the text. (I highlighted that bit and made a note, but I'll leave it to the reader to discover.)

As also seen in the description, this is not just a story of Mader and his patients, but a people story as well. His staff, his patients' "parents", some of the neighbors, and the "externs" - veterinary students who spend a month working in the field, his field, with him. Dr. Mader is a veterinarian, and a caring human, and that comes through: "My job can be an emotional rollercoaster. There was the high of sending Mikey [a paralyzed monkey] home with happy, compliant owners, followed by the gut punch of the phone call with Dodo’s [an emu chick] owner, who was too impatient to listen to my advice, and now her cute little bird was dead. She didn’t mention the name of the exotic specialist who had done the surgery, but I had a good idea who it was. His ego was so large that I could see him jumping at the opportunity to show off." He had a best friend named Wok (his dog) who we learn about, and care about, with whom he shares recaps of his days. He does talk about his wife, but in that year covered, she's almost always working an opposite schedule in a (people) hospital.

This will tug the heartstrings, and there will be joys. Enjoy.

A selection of outtakes:
[on untaught skills] The largest, and hardest, part of a veterinarian’s job is interacting with the pet’s owners, a skill not well taught in veterinary school
{I have never stopped being amazed at what critical skills for any profession are not taught.

[on specialization] There are strict guidelines and qualifications that must be met before a veterinarian can even apply to take a specialty board examination. In essence, you have to pre-apply to see if you are qualified to actually sit for the exam.
{Not unlike other professions. I am a licensed professional engineer. The application process alone is daunting.}

[a disturbing practice] Before I left for the day I stopped by the operatory to check in on Cliff. He was just finishing a declaw procedure on a young kitten and was putting bandages on the front feet. I noticed the removed claws on the surgery table, scooped them up, and tossed them in the trash.
{Please tell me this was not normal, though I do know it was not uncommon. Declawing a cat is cruel and has psychological impacts to the poor victims. (And that this story was not an isolated incident sadly tells me my answer.)}

[on snakes] After the python’s three months at NAVH, the staff had all grown fond of it, and we had mixed feelings about seeing it go home. The lesson to be learned from this case was that if it is a reptile, never give up! They are amazingly resilient, and if given the chance, they survive. After all, they are living reminders of the dinosaur era.
{We had a 5 1/2 foot long corn snake who survived smoke inhalation from a fire at our house when our didn't.}

[on dealing with reporting] I had learned years earlier how to speak in sound bites. That way, an editor or producer couldn’t take parts of a longer sentence, cut them, and then piece them together to end up with a statement completely differently than what I’d intended.
{This is good advice. I learned to keep things short, but not as well as this.}

[on living/working at Rodney King ground zero - bravery comes not only on a battlefield] Maria came into the conference room, where several of us had gathered to watch the news. After she sat down she pulled a pistol out of her waistband and set it on the table next to Lisa’s coffee mug. We all looked at her. There was something perverse about a near-term pregnant woman carrying a gun below her expanding belly. What a contrast—one a sign of new life, the other, death. “What?” Maria frowned. “Is it loaded?” I asked. I hate guns.
{I'm with Dr. Mader. Yep. Hate guns.} ( )