"Mum, I'm going to be a vet like Rolf Harris."

When I was younger, I wanted to be a vet. 

I would do chores for my parents in exchange for staying up 'late' to watch Animal Hospital with Rolf Harris. Not physically with him. He was too busy watching other people save animals. He was with me in spirit, though. 

My mum and I would sit together, cooing over the adorable puppies and laughing at the wildlife rescue squad tripping over a LOT as they stumbled after escaped swans. Donning my invisible cape of animal welfare duty, I vowed that I, too, would be a vet someday. I collected countless magazines and books about animals and randomly gave our dogs "teeth checks" when nobody was watching. I had no idea what I was looking for, but I was hoping that, one day, I would accidentally save their lives by discovering something of note hidden in their mouths. 

I decided that I was going to be the best vet there ever was. In my head, I was already wearing the disgustingly pastel vet scrubs and rambling on about "poop worms" to an unassuming dog owner. I even went so far as to "protect" our family pets by giving them "important vaccinations." When I say important vaccinations, I mean I clicked a mechanical pencil to its full capacity, and then held the clicker down and pretended it was disappearing beneath the skin of our Labrador/Collie cross, Murphy. "AND NOW YOU ARE SAFE FROM PARVO!" I would exclaim.

This all changed when I was 10. I watched an episode of Animal Hospital in which a Jack Russell gave birth to a litter of pups. Not one survived. At the end of the episode, I excused myself to my attic room (it was a lot cooler than it sounds,) and cried like a little baby. I decided, at that point in time, that I was unfit to take care of animals. I figured that if one ever died in my care that I would become some sort of desperately depressed recluse and never venture out into the world again, in case I stepped on a snail and had to end it all because of the guilt.*

Since then I have been a potential musician, artist, archaeologist, palaeontologist, web designer, textiles artist, translator, travelling hobo, caterer, baker, sculptor, astronomer, writer, comedienne, psychotherapist, masseuse, beauty therapist and a doll maker.

None of these things have ever come close to the desire I felt to love and care for animals, apart from my current profession... a mother.

moth·er  

/ˈməT͟Hər/

Noun A woman in relation to a child or children to whom she has given birth.

Verb Bring up (a child) with care and affection: "the art of mothering".

Synonyms mama - mamma - parent - mom - ma - mum - mummy If anything is ever going to come close to being a vet without actually being one, it's being a mum. Not only do I get to worry myself sick about a small, helpless creature all day... but I also get to clean up a hell of a lot of poop.

*No snails were killed in the writing of this blog post.