Dwayne Lee was the only son of Joyce and Rupert Lee, who lived in a two-storey house in the suburbs to the east of the city. There was a lawn at the front, with flower beds, and a concreted backyard. The Lee’s had lived there since before Dwayne had been born; it was a family home. A basket-ball hoop in the backyard provided entertainment when he got bored. The backyard was also the place where he kept his rabbits and guinea pigs. The house was double-fronted; to the right was the large kitchen and dining area, with a door to the cellar. To the left was the living-room. Stairs led up to the upstairs landing, off which there were three bedrooms and the bathroom.

When he was very young, his mother used to sing ‘Old McDonald had a farm’ with all the sounds and consequently Dwayne showed an early interest in animals. It was not surprising that he applied to the Veterinary school at the local university. His parents supported him.

“Your interest in animals shows you will work with them as a future career. I think enrolling at the Veterinary school is the best thing. Make us proud. Although it’s a long course, we will manage and we’ll support you however we can.”

“Thanks Mum. You know I will do my best.”

Part of the admissions requirement was an interview with the head of the school of the Veterinary college, Professor Stuart Stone.

“Come in. Dwayne isn’t it? Sit down. So, Dwayne. You have attained the entry qualifications for a place on the course. Tell me why you want to study here.”

“To be frank, this is my local university, only ten minutes from home by car, and so I can live at home to keep costs down. Also, I have always been interested in animals and animal welfare. I have a rescue dog, two hamsters, two rabbits, a guinea pig, and three goldfish at home, so my love for animals is clear.”

“Part of the course involves dissection. Are you squeamish, or doesn’t the thought of cutting open a mouse bother you?”

“No, I’m OK with that.”

“What of the future? You know it is a long course; five years under-graduate followed by four years post-graduate study. Will you be able to complete the course and where would you work afterwards?”

“If I am working towards a goal, I can complete the course. As for after it, I aim to work for the Environmental Protection Agency.”

“The EPA are always on the look-out for good graduates. Do you any have questions for me?”

“Yes, what is the mix of lectures and practical?”

“We have lectures early in the week and practical dissection and other such things at the end of the week. We believe in a hands-on approach.”

“Thanks. That’s covered it.”

“Any more questions? No, well, that about wraps it up. Welcome aboard. You have a place on the course.”

The Professor stood and shook his hand. Dwayne beamed his satisfaction.

He started, age eighteen, on the five-year course with further specialisation for four years. All went well in the early years. He got Bs in the more academic subjects; however, his dissection was not so good, averaging D. His mother reassured him.

“There’s no need to worry. What’s the difficulty with the dissection?”

“I’m not too sure. It may be the layout, or it could be how I get the organs out of the body. I will have to check with the Professor.”

“Well, perhaps you can practise at the university after hours. It’ll come right in the end. Whatever you need, we’ll get it.”

“Thanks mum. I appreciate it.”

However, Dwayne failed his final year: amongst other things, his dissection skills let him down. His tutors recommended he practice and then try again. The head of school interviewed Dwayne in his office.

“So, Dwayne. Your dissection skills, as well as other subjects, have not been good enough. The recommendation of the exam board is that you fail the final year. It might be worth taking a year out: get some work experience and come back. A year out will mature you, and you can practise your dissection without the pressures of academia. Regarding your dissection, it was the general presentation that let you down. Everything was there, but how you presented it was not satisfactory.”

Dwayne listened to what his Professor said, but he had decided.

“I’ll leave the course, thank you. The costs are too high. My dissection skills let me down, I know. I think I’ll quit and pursue other avenues.”

“What will you do?”

“Oh, something will turn up. It usually does. Well, goodbye then.”

“Goodbye and good luck.”

After a period of unemployment, he finally found a job as a butcher in an abattoir. Every butcher had their own set of knives and Dwayne also had his dissection kit from his time at the Veterinary school. His knowledge of dissection helped him somewhat, even though he had only worked on small animals. Rather than admit to working in an abattoir, Dwayne invented a parallel life in which he had an imaginary office job at the EPA. No-one, not even his parents, suspected a thing. He made sure that everyone had strict instructions not to contact him during work hours.

All was well until Dwayne reached twenty-four. Then, disaster. His father had a fatal heart attack and died at home. His mother died from a major stroke only three weeks later. Dwayne had taken time off work to nurse both parents. Although it was a little callous, home nursing meant that the house did not have to be sold to cover medical fees. In addition, life insurance, on both parents, paid off the mortgage. So, at an age of twenty-four years, Dwayne was quite wealthy, owned his own house and still worked at the abattoir.