The One That Got Away

Stephanie Massey, Texas A&M University

Experiences, Honorable Mention

Feverishly squirming with no other objective but freedom. Flailing arms with dangerous, dragon like claws and beady eyes sizing up his captors. 

“Let’s just put him back in the cage,” the grad student in our group suggested.

Our victim: a white lab rat, at the mercy of a group of first year veterinary students simply trying to learn about the effects of hormones on the body during their weekly physiology lab.

His captor started edging towards the box, his prison. His senses heightened, the rat began struggling, going into an alligator like roll clawing mercilessly at the first year’s bare hands. She managed to drop him in his box and was beginning to close the lid when the rat quickly took his opportunity for escape, making an incredible leap out of the box and off the table. He rapidly scurried along the floor from one cubicle area into another group’s. Over eight veterinary students hot on his trail, we surely had the rat surrounded.

He was cornered, with only a cabinet at his back, nowhere for him to go. Trapped like the rat he was. The eight veterinary students began closing in on him slowly from every angle. And suddenly, POOF! As if by magic, the rat was gone.

We ran to the cabinet at this point and frantically tried to open it, hoping to recover our lost prisoner, but the cabinet was securely fastened. Upon closer inspection a small hole was noted going from the floor into the cabinet. One of my classmates quickly contacted a technician to unlock the cabinet. We were on hot pursuit of our prey, we had him now. How could he escape the cabinet?

The technician sauntered over, looking over every key before carefully choosing the appropriate one for this cabinet. She could not understand how we could possibly have “lost” our animal unless we were playing around, not taking this laboratory session seriously. It seemed like hours had passed. The key turned within the lock and the cabinet door creaked slowly open, all eight students crowding anxiously around the doorway on our knees to recover our rat.

And that was when my heart sank, probably somewhere lower than my stomach. The rat was gone, nowhere to be visibly found. The entire cabinet was openly exposed in the back to the labyrinth of the schools walls and pipe system. He had made his escape. The rat had vanished without a trace at the most inopportune time for my first year veterinary group.

My group went through the stages of loss at differing paces from each other. Some were in denial that we had lost something so precious. “He’s probably still in the cabinet. He’ll come back.” Fear overtook some of us. “What was going to happen to us? What were the consequences for losing an animal, especially one such as this expensive rat that was part of an experiment?” Anger set in amongst some of my classmates. “Why had we not been trained more thoroughly? Why were lab animals kept in a room with so many holes? Of all days, why was this the day that the lab animal expert in our group had been absent?”

Other students starting joking about my group’s costly mishap.

“You set him free so he would not have to suffer within the school’s program or risk being euthanized!”

Our group was free to go within a few minutes without any reprimands from anyone in authority, with what I thought was no other repercussions.

A few days passed and thoughts of the rat crossed my mind, wondering where he had gone and if he would be able to survive within the labyrinth walls. I also started thinking about the lab animal wetlab I was supposed to participate in that weekend.

My day was disrupted one day later by an email I received from the veterinarian overseeing the care of all the lab animals and animal use protocols at the veterinary school. I would not be allowed to participate in his lab animal wetlab due to my involvement with the missing rat. He stated that if I thought this was unfair to come and speak with him.

I was horrified and filled with terror. I had been blacklisted. I had worked so hard to get into veterinary school and now… I saw all my hopes and dreams vanishing with the rat down the sewer systems of the veterinary school. How could I ever right this situation? How could I get off the blacklist?

One of my friends/colleagues, specializing in lab animal medicine, convinced me to make an appointment with the head of the lab animal department to discuss my plea. Butterflies churning, I walked into his office and took a seat before the judge, a man I thought would be deciding my fate.

“If it were up to me, I would have you all kicked out of vet school for this!” he spouted down at me.

I could no longer hold back the tears. I am not really a “crier”, but the tears began to stream down my cheeks as I stared up at him as he continued to vent his bottled frustrations at me.

“It is absolutely unacceptable that you would release this animal into the school!”

And that was when I realized he had not been informed of the actual story, the facts. Unlike what this man thought, PETA had not infiltrated the vet school through its first year class.

“But we didn’t release the animal on purpose, it was an accident,” I emphasized. “Veterinary students are encouraged to try new things, procedures they may have never had the opportunity to before since veterinary school is supposed to be a learning environment.”

I was allowed to explain the series of events as they actually happened and helped to resolve the miscommunications that had occurred. I was even permitted to participate in the lab animal medicine wetlab!

As I look back on this experience, I realized it taught me about overcoming stressful situations.  Life continues despite the stressful situations that we sometimes blow way out of proportion and with the support of loved ones (in this case, great colleagues!), it is possible to overcome any situation. Despite how disappointing it was for me to realize that the vet school was not a perfect utopia of education, this experience emphasized to me the importance of good communication. Every system has its flaws and that is why developing good communication is vital. In this day and age, when so many vet schools are not allowed to work with live animals, I am thankful that I am still given the opportunity to interact with an animal for teaching purposes. I realized how fragile that animal-human teaching balance can be and how easily it would be for the public or outside groups to eliminate live animal involvement from our teaching environment. I have a new appreciation and respect for the animals that are used to teach veterinary students. It is vitally important for future veterinarians to be allowed to work with live animals in veterinary school and to promote a positive image to those outside the vet school wall’s looking in through the media.

With three semesters of veterinary school under my belt, I sometimes wonder about that rat which taught me more than just the effects of hormones. That rat provided me with insight I may never have otherwise garnered. We never really found out what happened to him, but rumor has it that a white lab rat was found about a week later in one of the veterinary school offices. I like to think though he might still be wandering the hallways, a reminder to me of so many important lessons, as the one that got away.