I enjoyed this book, a memoir by a veterinary nurse who was working in the oncology section of New York City's Animal Medical Center. She obviously has a passion for cats; she seems to love those in the treatment centre as much as her growing population at home.
Sometimes I thought she seemed to relate to cats better than people and the sorrow at the loss of a couple of her most loved patients was possibly even greater than at the death of her father.
The book was published in 1983, so I'd expect that some of the treatments are now dated. Similarly, I wonder if cats would be allowed to wander around the facility with such ease, particularly Clancy, who had left his own household of cats because he might pass on his form of feline leukemia. In spite of being potentially contagious, he was given free reign of the offices and waiting area.
I was also most surprised to find that Ms Mooney took certain cats (never her own) on holiday with her. When we moved house our cats were petrified for days, I cannot imagine a 'holiday' being a pleasant experience for them.
There were quite a few cats throughout the book and I struggled to remember all their names and ailments, but they were all adorable and it was so sad when any of them died. There was an overall positive feel however, as the doctors and staff lovingly treated each animal, hoping to increase its life span and quality of life.
This is definitely a book for cat lovers, and if that's you, then snap this one up.