Saying Goodbye to Einstein (The Veterinarian)

About six weeks ago a man brought his fourteen year old cat named Einstein into my hospital for an examination. He obviously cared about Einstein and believed that he had suffered some sort of a wound to his face and jaw region.

I had to tell him then that the chance was overwhelming that the lesion wasn’t a wound, but rather a nasty malignant tumor that had reached a state beyond feasible removal. We attempted to “treat the treatable” with antibiotics and steroids, but as originally predicted the treatment had no effect.

This gentleman had to euthanize Einstein last Friday. He was understandably upset; a real grown man does often cry when they suffer a genuine heartfelt loss. While we were in the actual process of calmly restraining the patient, finding a vein, and giving the lethal injection, Einstein’s owner spoke with me. He never stopped caressing his cat in the process.

Einstein’s owner had been to Vietnam on four different active engagement deployments. He had been bayoneted and shot. He had thought that after every single active engagement completed, he had finished his obligated active service duty and that he would be allowed to head home to finish his enrollment in a non-war zone. He was not “exactly” given the option.

He also related a near death experience that he had at the hospital a few years ago while suffering an aortic dissection or aortic rupture. Only a tiny percentage of people survive such a condition. He told me that while he was lying there waiting to be rushed somewhere for surgery, he kept trying to joke with the nurses and the doctors attending to him. He was more relaxed than they were and apparently they had been extremely alarmed. He said “Dr. Cribb, after everything I had been through in Vietnam, after all of that carnage and pain, I thought to myself, if I have to go, this bleeding out thing isn’t such a bad way to make my exit.”

And during the caressing, and the shedding of tears, and the melancholy smiles of shared understanding over his conversation and experiences, Einstein passed away peacefully in silence. There was a feeling of lightness in that room afterwards, sad but still light. We continued to share a few more words about all of it within that lightness for a moment or two, but eventually it became time to part. With a somber smile and a steady hand, Einstein’s owner scooped him up in a blanket and took him home for burial.

Dr. Cribb          2018

A True Story about Cheap Veterinary Care

This is a true story.

Yesterday, I was at the gym and was making friendly conversation with a person I had seen there on a few occasions. It became known that I was a veterinarian and she revealed that she has been using a DVM who is well known in the veterinary community for their very basic medicine (primarily a spay and neuter clinic) and cheap prices. My new friend honestly admitted that cost was a big factor in her decision to use this Vet. Then she told me a story about her dog that was spayed at that hospital.

After the spay, her dogs incision never quite healed properly and it continued to become reinfected over a few months. Around the time of third infection, the owners daughter noted something sticking out of the incision that looked like metal. They took their dog back in and had the “metal fragment” removed and the incision healed within three days afterward. Per the owners words to me, that DVM and hospital did not seem to really “care” about the issue or “assume any, any responsibility”.

That metal fragment was stainless steel suture. In my opinion it is archaic and I would say inhumane. I don’t believe you would like to have metal wire buried in your abdominal musculature for the remainder of your life and I have to extrapolate that opinion to dogs and cats as well. But, this is the typical type of insanity you promote when you use a “cheap” vet or a “spay and neuter clinic”. First, most of these DVMs are truly poorly skilled and second, they cut corners with quality, safety, and material costs to offer you up your “savings”. In addition to these facts, when you use a veterinarian like this YOU ARE REMOVING REVENUE FROM THE VETERINARIANS THAT ARE DOING THE HARD WORK. You are taking the easy money and revenue away from them (us) and that means that inadvertently you are skyrocketing all of the other prices related to veterinary care in the “real” hospitals and clinics that do the hard work. If you kept that “easy” revenue in a real hospital that was doing a good job and offering you fair prices, you would help buffer price inflation and create a much more stable relationship between yourself and the “real” veterinarian.

So, I explained this gently while laughing and smiling as much was possible to my new friend. And she seemed to get it until she said she would only use the “cheap vet” for the simple stuff….never for anything more serious.

Jeff Cribb DVM     2014



The Veterinarian – Thank You to Those Who have Opened Their Eyes to See Who I Am

My head technician at the hospital is a responsible dog breeder and he is an exceptional canine behaviorist. He has been in the field in some direct way for 20-25 years and he has seen “a lot” in many different environments and hospitals. He has worked extensively in emergency/critical care medicine and served as the technician (essentially the personal assistant) to a boarded nationally known surgeon.  He has also worked directly with a boarded internist and performed neurosurgery with a boarded neurologist. And yes, he has also spent time on the front lines of general practice with many different non-boarded DVMs.

 I shall withhold the particulars of presentation and diagnosis, but over last weekend, one of his dogs became obstructed, meaning he ate something that got stuck in his intestines. Surgery was required.

 Now, many surgeries I can almost perform blind-folded, but some carry much more consequence and I never take these lightly (or perhaps I take them extremely heavily)…because honestly it is a matter of life or death. The most unfortunate case of my career involved intestinal surgery and that patient was eventually euthanized. That story is another story, but its ghost never leaves my side. Never.

 So, my employee and my friend, who has worked with me for five or six years looks at me while my mind is jumping at light speed over and over and over, reevaluating probabilities about my pre-surgical diagnosis,  the chances of surgical complication or failure, and how imperative it is that I do not fail to do everything within my power to execute and operate with as much perfection as possible, and he says “I would almost rather euthanize my dog than let another doctor (veterinarian) cut (perform surgery) on him. I trust you (implicitly). I am good with whatever you say.” And this guy isn’t a minion. He does not bestow respect unconditionally and money was not a relevant factor in this case.

 Do you get it? Do you understand what that does for me? It is the reason why I do what I do. It is acknowledgement of my effort and the skill that I have honed over a lifetime. It is placing all trust within me for the moment. It is balancing. It is stabilizing. It is an appropriate response to tangible objective reality.

 To be seen so, to be appreciated so, for whom I truly am (not some delusional version with more or less added) is what sustains me through all else. It makes life worth living.

 To double down, the patient recovered quickly and without adverse event, putting my paranoia (at least in this case) finally to rest.

 So, I want to say thank you to every one of my clients and anyone else who has ever trusted me in this manner. Thank you for opening your eyes “for me”. You make my life worth living and I assure you that I never want to let you down or give you reason to doubt me.


Dr. Cribb              2014

A Short Interview with Me by Me for Me and You

1)      What is your greatest disappointment or failure? 

I would probably have to boil this down most essentially to being unable to effectively help people and animals as much as I would prefer. Animals are much easier to help. They don’t have the mental baggage or hyper-awareness that often disrupts or sabotages or misinterprets my efforts to increase their quality of life. The hardest part of helping animals is trying to work through the frequent misperceptions and/or ignorance of their owners. As far as my efforts to help people, number 2 below must first be overcome with them and that is often a daunting task. Admittedly, it is a very rare person that truly does want to “bring positive energy” to every system, dynamic, or pack and not….not control or parasitize or manipulate that group or person for their own devious desires. I am that rare person and it saddens me greatly that I work so tenaciously…so hard at being that balanced person and yet everyone seems to find it extremely hard to believe in me. I understand. I really do and I am not perfect, but if they would actually compare my efforts, my attempts, my actions, and my accomplishments fairly with the imposters that surround them, the truth would be undeniable. I regret that I cannot pull most people out of the Matrix to see the excessive beauty and peace that exists within simple reality. They think the Matrix gives them peace in its collective delusion, while I see its madness racking most of their souls in perpetual torment.           

 2)      What is the most misunderstood thing about you?

 There are two primary personality traits that are inherent components of my soul that I believe are very frequently misinterpreted by most people. First, my passion which runs at super-nova level is often assumed to be anger. Almost always, this is not the case, but sometimes my anger flares in response to having the integrity of my passion and my love of awareness questioned or attacked as a bastardized version of what it most definitely is not. Second, it seems to be often assumed that I want to control damn near everything in my sphere. This is absolutely incorrect. I do enjoy “controlling”, or I would more appropriately title as “leading”, in many arenas because I feel that my awareness, skill and perception excel in those given areas. I actually crave for someone else to sometimes, if not often, take the lead or control in a situation. Dominance seeks dominance. I lead enough. It gets exhausting. To see someone else take control and truly apply themselves to the best of their ability, gives me hope. It lightens my load and burden…it strengthens me and gives me peace. I have no desire to be in a relationship with a person that I even could control at all times…not healthy for me or them. In both cases, I do not like to be rewritten by misperceptions. It obscures the real me.                    

   3)      What is your worst character flaw or trait?

 Though I have grown exponentially from the neurotic monster I once was as a child, I have still been unable to completely clear an attack response when pushed to extreme defense or when my integrity comes under aggressive attack. I try very, very, very hard to avoid this and I get better with eliminating it entirely from my psyche every damn day. I blame no one except myself, but an objective fact that does make this more challenging for me is that many people suffer from a neurotic cycle (often unconscious to them) which involves an attack/fight/conflict mode in the cycle of their relationships.  In some twisted way, this becomes “normal” to their existence, so sometimes their subconscious demon actually drives them to a point of specifically trying to elicit an attack from me. If I falter and do so (attack back), I encourage and reinforce the cycle. If I leave the scene to avoid responding, it is rewritten that I am undependable and that sooner or later I will leave for good. The most challenging part of my self-growth has been to respond to this cycle in an appropriately dominant manner; that means to avoid retreat and counter-attack, while being solid and stable for myself and any other party. Such a response diffuses the situation, stabilizes the relationship(s), and strengthens trust and respect among all.           

 4)      What brings you the most joy and happiness?

 A number of things bring me extreme joy and happiness. Perhaps, the numero-uno thing that delivers such an emotion to my soul is being “seen” accurately for whom I truly am; seen for being the rare, genuine, heavy lifting, tough love, super nerd boy warrior poet that is trying with all of his might to make a difference in this world and to especially help those others with hyper-awareness understand their gift.      

 5)      What advice do you consider most imperative for those you might impact upon?

 I would beg everyone who reads this to heed these words. I would beg you on my hands and knees right now if it would make any difference in your life by getting you to really listen to me and consider the importance of this little tidbit of advice. I would ask you to always….always be yourself and always….always remain true to yourself. Do not become an imitator. Do not choose to be around or remain in the company of those who do not accept you for who you are. Note, and this is imperative: you have to be careful in respect to this last sentence, because I have begged many a girlfriend to be their radiant independent self who for some reason don’t actually believe my words and instead decide that “I really” want them to be something they are not. This is a devastating insecure response and it will always destroy a relationship, so do not do this. Look at the people that surround you, listen to them, see their actions and the truth of their words and judge these people accurately before you decide what they “really want” before choosing to separate yourself from them, but always, always, always be yourself. Grow, learn, live, but don’t pretend for anyone…no man, no church, no “friend” and no “family”.


Cribb     2014

The Veterinarian – (17) Three Mothers, the Crowd of Me, Me, Me and the Killing of Souls



                Another, and another, and another, he sees them fall. One Angel, after another, lost… so damn lost; raised by and among beasts… so many overwhelming beasts who possess no awareness, minimal, if any intellect, and no understanding, whatsoever, of the precious creatures within their midst. Angels; swimming in a sea of unaware, unempathetic, imperceptible beasts. And there happens to be nothing wrong with being a simple beast. There is actually a comfort, a purity, and a beauty in being such a creature; furthermore, in all truth, a limited awareness, removes the hellacious burden of responsibility that falls upon the Angels. But, beasts should never rule, subjugate, torture, drug, deconstruct, demoralize, or dominate Angels.  Never, never, never. Beasts are the children of animals and Angels are the children of God. But, a beast cannot comprehend such a thing and by virtue of their ignorance and naivety, they perceive and declare, the Angels as abominations. 

                Abominations….. What is wrong with them? Why are they so weird? Why do they talk so much and ask so many questions? Why can’t they just relax? Why are they so stressed out? Why are they so emotional… so demanding? Why are they so depressed? What is there to worry about, so much? Why can’t they be content? Why can’t they just sit still?

                Why would she put a shotgun in her mouth? Why would she let cancer consume her? Why would she welcome a terminal beating? Why would a child arm himself and open fire on a crowd of beasts? Why would he write….? Why would he write…….? Why would he write?

                Because, Angels are suffering… for Fuck’s sake….. for Fuck’s sake, because Angels are suffering and suffering…..and suffering. And they are lobotomizing themselves in every way imaginable, so they can just stomach and survive in a world controlled by the beasts. And when the lobotomizing fails, they have to check out completely….. they have to… they have to blow their brains out, one way or another… they must… because they are drowning in the hoards of the beasts that surround them in every direction for miles and miles and miles, and every mile, yard, foot, inch, centimeter and millimeter of that area, is so fucking empty… so fucking empty… that they can’t stand it. So, so, so empty. The beasts deconstruct existence for the Angels. The beasts turn an Angel’s existence black and ugly and empty; and the Angels fall, because they know better… they know better… they know the true beauty of supreme awareness… they know appreciation of the full potential and gift of existence, even when they are consciously unaware of it… and they can’t fucking stand to see that gift squandered, denied, corrupted, or spit upon.

                A beast’s world is okay and good for the beasts. It is not okay, or proper, or healthy for the Angels. And this world could, and should be, shared by both. But that specific discussion is also a complex subject, and it is story to be told at another time.


Those with Wings must Fly and find One Another


                The Angels must rise. Rise. The Angels must believe in themselves, and that other Angels, also exist. Believe. The Angels must accept the inherent difference between themselves and the beasts, and not interpret such a difference, as a curse or isolation. They must accept the difference as a grace… a wonderful, blissful, amazing, transcending, grace. Accept. The Angels must not lose faith; they must not give in to discouragement or lose hope in repetitively failing to help, to nurture, to educate, or to uplift the beasts, because beasts prefer to exist as beasts and not as Angels. Hope. Angels must embrace other Angels. They must look for the signs. They must eliminate all distractions….eliminate all excuses. Embrace. They must spread their wings and fly. Fly. They must sing from the depths of their soul, and as they do, resonate the melodies of swirling existence; melodies composed of passion and sorrow, ultimate bliss and the fact of loss, yearning and hope, love and the unfortunate distortion of that love, which leads to fear and contempt and hate. Sing. They must love without reservation or fear or consequence. Love. They must let go…let go of all of it. Let go. They must learn to see, to accurately turn their eyes upon themselves, and see themselves, for who they truly are…to accept what is viscerally present within…and then, and only then, will they be able to actually love themselves, not just in word, but also in deed and in profound unmitigated instinctual truth. That truth, that specific truth, alters even the vision of Angels, and it allows them to see things in a synchronous state of the highest transcendence; it allows them to see the whole damn world…the beauty of it all…the grace of everything…existing as it should…..every single bit, existing contently as itself…..beasts, existing as beautiful beasts, other Angels, existing as radiant beings of love and awareness, and themselves…themselves, existing in their own exquisiteness.


                The acceptance and application of such vision…..such awareness, is a love that transcends all. It transcends fear. It transcends anger. It transcends insecurity. It balances all of it…..all of it. Such a force, such a choice…..such a simple, basic, concept, could save all of us…every single one, as we dance together through existence.


 No one, Angel nor Beast, should have to suffer for simply being themselves.   


The End

 Cribb     2014


The Veterinarian – (16) Three Mothers, the Crowd of Me, Me, Me and the Killing of Souls

The End of his Day            

It is near the end of his day… and it has been a long day. The weight of the world has been almost unbearable for him over the last several hours. He isn’t seeking a reason. He isn’t seeking confrontation. He isn’t looking for distraction. His bucket is just empty. He has poured it out; poured it out, into awareness for his patients, his clients, his staff, himself, and even for the plants and trees, and the cute little chirping birds that run and fly throughout his kingdom. His bucket is empty….. and most, almost all, still try to empty it further, and if they aren’t actively trying to draw from it, they are ignorantly bumping or slamming into it, spilling the few remaining drops at the very bottom.


He walks into the exam room. It is a simple appointment; all that he has to do for the patient is an annual exam. Then he can send the client up front and collect a little more revenue. The patient is a Golden Retriever and the owner reports no history of any problems; again, so simple, so easy. So, the veterinarian plops down on the floor in one corner of the room and allows his head technician, Joe, to gather the patient from the owner and bring her over to be examined. The Golden Retriever collapses in front of the veterinarian. She drops to the floor and hugs the ground before him. As she does this, she also spastically and rhythmically squints, and it seems like her entire body and posture is screaming at me, “it is too bright” or “I am scared of what I might see.” And this is very frequently a point in the evaluation of dog behavior where people sing Me, Me, Me, making it all about themselves, and thus, fundamentally fucking up everything as they graciously pat themselves on the back. The overwhelming majority would interpret the “dogs” behavior as indicative of previous suffering from physical abuse, of course by a man, or as a normal intuitive response to something “I was doing wrong” to elicit fear. But, truth does not buckle to limited intellect or the delusion of the vast mainstream. It is almost certain that this patient has never been abused and I am not “doing anything” to warrant a rational fear response.


This patient was borne or adapted the survival mechanism at a very young age to respond to everything with utter submission. The patient has never been “taught” that this is unhealthy. No environmental development or person has ever given her the proper direction or reference that her psyche needs, and requires, to achieve a healthy perspective. She has never been encouraged to stand. She has never been encouraged to overcome her irrational fear and her associated submissive response to all of existence. She has never been truly nurtured. The others, the Crowd of Me, Me, Me, have reinforced all of her insecurities and submissive adaptations and misguided perceptions on a continuous basis, and most of them have done so with the unacknowledged intent of perpetuating her weakness and stagnation. By doing such, that most, creates another minion; a helpless, basket case that becomes a slave to their dependency upon the Crowd of Me, Me, Me. The Crowd sacrifices her potential and any chance of improving her perception of her existence as it feeds the hungry appetite of insecurity and inadequacy, ever-present, in every one of its members.


As the patient sits directly in front of me and incessantly attempts to cower, I respond with continual movements myself. I gently pull her out of her cowering posture and force her to rise back up into a normal stance. With patience and melancholy, I pick her heavy ass up, again and again and again. Rise. Rise. It is okay. I am here to help you. I am here to help you. I am not your enemy. I don’t want to hurt you. I don’t want to over-dominate you. I don’t want you to be subservient to me. Please…rise. I will help you. I get it. I understand. I see. I am listening. My hand, under her chin, raises her eyes to the level of my own, time after time after time. She is so nervous; so damn jittery and anxious. And then, Joe, who also gets the whole damn secret scenario, says “It is almost like no one has ever told her how beautiful she is.” And I can’t help but laugh like a fool. I have no idea what the client thinks at this point…probably that she has accidentally stumbled into an insane asylum or maybe a clown house, but who really knows. She just sits there and smiles and laughs a little with us.


I can’t help but think of Jennifer and Lisa and Verna Lee Cribb, as well as many, many more of the beautiful women that I have encountered who I refer to as Angels, even if a few of them are really just imposters. I can’t help but think of how often I have tried to tell them “how beautiful…how astoundingly beautiful they truly are…..and how I get it, how I understand…how I am here… they don’t need to crawl…that I know how hard it can be at first, how damn hard it is to resist the temptation of default… and that I am different…. that I am not pretending….that I am someone who feels the same pain and terror and hope and fear…..that I share the same awareness…and that they can… that they can actually believe in my words and my integrity. If they would just listen …just choose to truly, truly believe in me or another worthy human being, that that would help them to sincerely find the same damn earnest belief in themselves. THAT……THAT and not just the fucking namesake version of belief is the key that they must understand to unlock their bindings, their madness, their confusion, their isolation, their intolerable existence….THAT they are not, not alone. They may be engulfed by minions of manipulators and the other various herds of the Crowd of Me, Me, Me, but they are still not alone in their thought or fear or awareness or suffering or love. There are others, scattered and scant, but others of their same soul…..of the same primordial energy… and all of those of our same energy need one another, we should be with one another…it is natural… is proper…it is the answer….it is the truth…..and that understanding and acceptance of such in purity will transform their existence forevermore.”                            

To be continued only one more time…


The Veterinarian – Love versus Sex 23

To care or not to care, that is the question.

It boils down to the fact that the majority of people just don’t really care and they don’t really want to care and they don’t want you telling them that they really should care. Oddly enough, it seems these same people want you to care constantly, but just to the degree of their liking, keeping it at such a distance, so that it will only impact upon them, when and to such a degree as they desire. They want to be able to draw from your caring on their need, while not having to expend the energy to reciprocate or suffer themselves from the vulnerability of loosening the bindings they have woven so thoroughly around the hostage of their heart. Why? Because it hurts to care. Because caring requires awareness. And with awareness, you may hurt more from empathy or you might just see a deplorable demon in your soul that you prefer to just keep hidden, instead of confronting with the angel you also possess. A constant stalemate of ease versus a never ending process of pain, truth, awareness, vulnerability and disappointment; such an odd path, such a strange road, such a counterintuitive journey, but yet the only way, the only obscure way to care. And there can be no love without caring. It is an impossibility. You may fool yourself for a second or a lifetime through words, actions, thoughts and deeds, but somewhere inside, somewhere silent, you know if your love is an act… or a defense mechanism… or a survival mechanism… or if your love is given freely and willingly without intent or fear. You know if caring is the core of your “love”, and if it is not, your demon grins, your angel weeps, and you know not Love as you should.

Cribb      2012