Caution - Has Bitten

I'm nauseous with glee

2009-01-20T13:57:00.000-08:00

Two glorious, wonderful events occurred today:

1. The inauguration

2. My acceptance into veterinary school

It is a very, very good day, one I think I will remember for a long time...

Quote of the Day

2009-01-16T20:02:00.001-08:00

Phone call

Client: "My dog just went under the table!"

Me: "...And?"

Client: "Someone told me that when dogs go under tables, they go there to die!"

Why no one gets my number

2009-01-16T19:01:00.000-08:00

Back in the days of lore, vets were on call 24/7.

The days of lore sucked.

With the advent of modern medicine, so came the establishment of the Big Specialty Hospital and/or Shiny University Hospital right down the road. Huzzah! said the vet. Now, the 2 am blocked cat can make a 10 minute trip to one of finest veterinary hospitals in the nation and receive top-notch care while I sleep soundly away, said the vet. Everyone wins, you see - the cat gets prompt care and delicious drugs, the vet gets sleep and a nicely written summary of the case on the fax machine in the morning, and the owner gets a bill the size of Russia.

Ok, so maybe not everyone wins. Somewhere around 8:02 am, the owner (and proud recipient of a saurian-esque bill) calls Yours Truly to express his/her equally-sized outrage that we, THE VET, were not available at 2 am, forcing him/her to voyage to the other side of the street to a facility where "NO ONE CARED".

"I WANT THE VET'S NUMBER", exclaims the owner. Ya'know, for future emergencies of this nature.

Here's why the answer is an unequivocal NO:

1.) A single vet would be hard-pressed to treat a sick animal in need of hospitalization all by him/herself. It can be done, with the aid of anesthesia and good technique, but it's not a good idea from a "standard of care" point of view. Take this cat, for example - who's going to restrain/hold off while the IV cath is placed? Who's going to monitor anesthesia while the urinary cath is inserted and sewn in? Who's going hold for a jugular stick?

2.) The quality of the animal's care is not reduced by the referral to a different hospital. In fact, it is improved. Instead of a general practitioner and a tech or two, you now have board-certified specialists handling the case and whole boatload of techs providing 24 hour care.

I understand that it costs a lot...in part because you insisted on showing me your bill. Multiple times. However, the difference in the price between the veterinary ER and after-hours care at our practice (with a lone vet) is not comparable to the difference in the quality of care.

When we're open, come on in. When we're closed...we're closed, and it's for your cat's own good.

P.S. - As to "NO ONE CARED": Dude, they're an EMERGENCY HOSPITAL. They don't want to talk to you unless it involves a history or an ok for treatment. They don't want to have a conversation about how your cat likes to sleep in the sink or eat parmesan cheese when there's a GDV in the back and two HBCs coming in.

P.P.S. - Sporadic posting? Yes. Honestly, I've just been too busy lately, and with the economy sucking like it does, our practice has slowed down = not as many good stories, more stress.

PSA

2008-04-27T13:02:00.000-07:00

When your dog has SO MANY TICKS that little suckers (haha) have attached themselves to your dog's EYELIDS in an effort to stake out the last square centimeter on non-infested flesh, IT IS TIME TO GET SOME FRONTLINE! Or insert-preferred-tick-preventative-here. Whatever. No more averted glances and mumblings of "I have some at home", K? Cough it up.

Might also be time for a Lyme vaccine.

Check Please

2008-04-14T16:55:00.000-07:00

A client's first visit with a new vet is sort of like a first date. Both parties try to make a good impression (mostly) while trying to figure out the other's interests and philosophies (regarding pet care) - and of course, there's a bill at the end.

In some cases though, somewhere in between the bread and the appetizer, the conversation slowly but surely turns from pleasant banter to a one-sided, deeply embittered bashing of "the ex" - how he/she was a crazy pyschopathic jealous angry horrible scum of the earth freak of nature. Etc etc. You attempt to gently steer the conversation towards more progressive, at-hand topics, but your dinner partner stands his/her ground. After the third glass of wine, he/she is throughly convinced that "the ex" was the devil incarnate - but you, YOU are AMAZING. You're nothing like the ex, they say, you are PERFECT.

Then you spend the next two weeks pretending to have an especially contagious strain of Ebola.

Maybe that's a bit extreme, but that's what I'm reminded of whenever the topic turns from the findings of a pet's exam to how horrible the Last Vet was. Whether it's a perceived improper diagnosis, getting ripped off, or just general mistreatement, the client obviously holds a deep resentment against their previous vet, and is intent on revealing every last gory detail - more than just "I left Dr. X because of XYZ. The End". The problem is, sometimes the complaint is 100% true and fair, but it would still be incredibly unprofessional for us to respond with the agreement the client is hoping to hear, unless there's a previous medical history that reveals evident malpractice. We don't know the vet or their side of the story, for better or for worse. In addition, it makes my spidey sense tingle - if we are this client's third vet this year, how long before we "mistreat" them and send them off to Vet #4 with tales of woe about how evil we are?

I want to crush your dreams

2008-04-09T18:18:00.000-07:00

I love it when kids come to shadow for the day.

And by "love it", I mean I loathe it, of course.

Don't get me wrong - I love the one in ten kids that actually pays attention, asks questions, and shows half an interest in doing anything other than sitting around and asking where all the puppies are.

The remaining majority of veterinary hopefuls tend to quickly lose interest when they realize that the most/all of the day consists of smelly infections/fecals/animals/owners, and nary a puppy or kitten in sight. I can give the middle-school ones a break, but the seniors in high school drive me insane. Even though their little dreams are quickly crushed, they still have x amount of days or hours to complete for their school requirements. While they may be content to spend this time sitting at the front desk contemplating their next career path, we feel obligated to give them something to do - usually this means walking dogs in the kennel. If I'm feeling especially dedicated to the future of our youth, I may try to keep teaching them how to set up fecals - however, after the TENTH repeat of "put poop in tube, add floaty stuff, mix well" fails to stick in their heads, I give up.

The young ones do come in handy, however, when it comes to dealing with difficult clients - no one wants to mean in front of a twelve year-old.

TOBASH

2008-04-06T10:10:00.000-07:00

I'M BACK!

Yay?

_______________________________

As a general rule, Saturday mornings are the busiest days at any vet clinic, as everyone and their cousin's girlfriend wants an appointment for that day, and we're only open for 4 hours. Hence, you can always bet that we'll be booked solid with "limping x2 wks" and "adr x? - outdoor cat, 16yr" and "discharge from 'pee-pee parts', per owner". (On that note, c'mon people, say it with me - "penis" and/or "vulva/vaginal area").

Anywho, Saturday 8am is very bad time to call up your beloved local vet clinic to declare your immediate need for medical attention for a problem that has been going on for the past 2, 3, or 4 weeks. You see, the people who procrastinated slightly less than you have already booked us up with THEIR 2, 3, or 4 week-old problems, and we're scrambling like crazy to squeeze in the truly sick pets.

"Fine", you might say. "I'll just walk in there and plop myself in a chair and demand to be seen", you say. I know this will come as a surprise to you, but when we are a receptionist and tech short and only have one doctor scheduled, open slots in our book will not spontaneously generate. Therefore, you and your ridiculously unsocialized animal will sit in our lobby for an indefinite period of time, despite our attempts to placate you with a smorgasbord of appointment options for Monday.

Finally, you strike up a conversation with the nice man next to you as he patiently waits for his SCHEDULED appointment. With a lovely touch of class, you inform him that if we fail to see you promptly, you intend to take your pet home and shoot it in the head.

Congrats, you got your appointment slot after the nice man insisted upon rescheduling his exam for later in the week so you could be seen for your minor, x4wk problem. I'm not sure what all your fuss was about, however, since "diagnostics" and "medications" were not part your extensive lexicon to begin with. Since our magic wand is in the shop, a physical exam can't really CURE anything.

I know, that's our fault too...

No. No prescription for you.

2008-02-10T09:23:00.000-08:00

Also, breathlessly/angrily declaring "IDON'TWANTANEXAM" as soon as I pick up the phone is not conducive to getting your request passed along to the doctor.

"I think he's got a UTI - can I get some of that antibiotic stuff like last time?" (last time = 3 years ago)

"OMG, I'm TOTALLY out of Novox, I need a refill NOW!" (last exam - '06, last bloodwork = hahahhahah. Also, how did you manage to stretch 14 tablets over 2 years if you're giving it every day?)

"His allergies are getting really bad again, he's all red and scabby...last time y'all made me buy like 3 medications, I don't need that antihistamine stuff or antibiotics, just gimme those little white pills." (little white pills = prednisone)

"More Ace, please"
Me: "Ma'am, you just got a refill of 30 tablets a week ago...and we haven't had any thunderstorms..."
"Yeah, but he barks alot."

I thought elementary school was mandatory...

2008-01-30T15:57:00.000-08:00

Flashback to 2 weeks ago...

Husband brings dog in. Has raging ear infection in the left ear. We do a cytology, send him home on ear cleaner and antibiotic ointment for 14 days. I go over meds with husband, and ask him if he wants me to do the first ear cleaning for him (for a nominal fee, of course) - he says no, that's ok, my wife handles all the dog stuff, she can do it. Ok sweet. Cya in a couple weeks for a recheck.

Present Day.

Wife brings dog back for recheck. Says oh yes, I've done the meds everyday, the ear looks great. Whines about paying for the recheck, even though she called and scheduled it out of her free will. Blah blah blah.

Vet examines ear. The left is now far worse than before, complete with pus and ulcers on the outer ear and pinna, and the smell of yeast has grown from "faintly like bread dough" to "oh my god why didn't I bring a change of clothes today...OH GOD MY EYES THEY BURN"

Vet asks how Poopsykins handles his daily ear cleaning. Fantastic, apparently. Vet tells owner the infection is getting worse and presents the evidence.

"Oh! Well, I didn't clean that ear, the directions said the LEFT ear."

"But...this IS the left ear."

"No, that's the right ear."

Vet and I look at each other, wondering who in the room is insane.

"See!" (Owner stands in front of dog, and puts her hands on either side of the dog's head.) "This is my left hand, so THIS (motioning to the ear under her left hand) is his left ear."

"Um. No."

Even though this woman could tell her left from her right just fine, she honestly and truly believed that because the dog was not human, then he could not possess his own left/right side, and therefore the all directions were relative to HER left/right. I haven't yet figured out if that was a result of just innocent ignorance, or an incredibly, incredibly large ego.

Either way, I think I heard the tiny death rattles of a few more precious neurons.

I remember trying to talk an owner through a similar situation on the phone...after she got home, she became hopelessly confused as to whether the "Clean right ear once a day" referred to her right or the dog's right.

"Ok, ma'am, it means the dog's right."

"His right...when he's facing towards me or away?"

"....::headscratch::....His right is always his right, ma'am"

"But how do I tell which side is his right?"

BWWAGGHHH!!!

So if we leave the rotten teeth in there, eventually they'll just fall out, right?

2008-01-26T12:27:00.000-08:00

"Super, no need to do this whole "surgical extraction" thing and waste all that money then."

I'm pretty sure there's a special circle of hell reserved for bad veterinary staffers - for all eternity you are forced to wander through an endless wasteland of tight-fisted clients with 10-yr old Yorkies who steadfastly deny the existence of this "periodontal disease" you speak of. You are armed only with a "Pets Have Teeth, Too" brochure, and you alone must lift the shroud of ignorance from their eyes and bring them to the light of regular dental care before you can proceed to Purgatory.

The gehenna of Dental Health Month approaches.

Oh, sure, in theory it's a fantabulous idea - let's all pick a month to shower our clients with enlightening education about periodontal disease, and take some extra time to go over preventative at-home care techniques and the importance of dental cleanings. Let the knowledge flourish among ye. Hey, we can even offer a discount on dental procedures done during February as an incentive. Yay!

Except...

Our base dental cost for dogs (anesthesia, dental cleaning and polishing, X-rays, pre-surgical Rimadyl injection, and go-home antibiotics) now exceeds $400. Yup, that's without the recommended pre-surgical bloodwork, IV cath, or OraVet. And extractions? Hahhahhahahahaha. Sigh.

Granted, if people would stop hitting the mental "mute" button whenever we mention dental care during Fluffykin's annual exam and invest a little time/money in brushing teeth, feeding t/d, using OraVet, chlorhexidine chews/rinses, SOMETHING other than NOTHING - Fluffykin probably wouldn't need an $1100 dental and his canines and molars wouldn't be scattered on the surgery room floor.

I wish it wasn't so expensive, but 1.) we only have 1 surgery table, so time-consuming dentals have to be comparable in cost to other surgeries we could be performing at the time (according to Boss Vet) 2.) many dental cleanings could have been significantly delayed or prevented if the owner would have invested in at-home care.

Still, those rationales don't help much when I feel my soul withering under the death glare of the client as I go over the $400+ estimate. But, erm, you get a discount. No, not on the whole thing. Just the cleaning. Please stop looking at me like that.

My cat is very prone to packing on the tartar, and if I were to do nothing he would work up a horrible infection at warp speed - I know this, so I feed him dry food, give him a couple C.E.T. dental chewies a day and brush his teeth a couple times a week. He's not too thrilled with the brushing, but that's just too bad. I check his mouth a once a month just to make sure the tartar isn't re-appearing - it rarely does, but when it does I can pin him down and scrape it off with my fingernail. During his annuals, I do a good dental scrape (no sedation needed). Total yearly cost? Probably $60.

Moral of the story? Find a way to take care of your pet's teeth AT HOME. In the end, you'll save a small college fund worth of money and your pet will keep his/her teeth around for awhile. Oh, and all that kidney/liver/heart damage stuff.

Why it's ok to let your kid eat dirt and lick the dog

2008-01-23T18:05:00.000-08:00

One of my ecology courses requires us to do these incredibly annoying little "current events" projects - basically we just have to find an article relating to the last few lectures, write up a blurb, and then present it to the class (150 people) and tell about how AWESOME and INTERESTING our topic is, even though you just found it ten minutes ago in the university library and could care less about CO2 flux and corn production. But anywho. The other day, a kid presented an article that actually registered some merit with me - http://www.boston.com/news/globe/ideas/articles/2006/05/07/our_allergies_ourselves/?page=1 . It discussed the "hygiene hypothesis" - the link between an increase in hygiene and an increase in autoimmune diseases and allergies. Basically, the immune system is a like a workaholic phalanx - it likes to fight, it NEEDS to fight, and if you kill off the little germs and parasites and their other daily "jobs", the immune system gets bored and starts picking fights within the body, or over-reacting to minor things (aka, allergies).

At the risk of drawing too many parallels between human research and veterinary medicine, I though it was very interesting in terms of the incredibly large number of cases of allergies and autoimmune problems that we see on a daily basis. It makes me wonder if dogs and cats, more recently removed from their distinctly un-hygienic ancestry, are more greatly affected by all the dewormers and hygienic measures we impose on them in the interest of keeping them healthy.

I started thinking about this today after getting into a heated discussion with an owner, who was livid over his dog's "re-contamination" with the almighty giardia - we had originally treated the infection, and subsequent fecal samples were negative until today, when it re-appeared with a vengeance. Barring the possibility that the infection had never really cleared at all, just gone into hiding, the dog must have picked up from any number of contaminated sources. I discussed this with the owner, who declared on no uncertain terms that re-contamination was "impossible" since the dog has "never set foot outside in its whole life".

Huh? Never?

Never. The puppy was never taken outside by the breeder, and the owner uses "potty-pads" inside. No walks. The paws have never touched the ground.

I was too absorbed in mediating the Giardia War to dwell on this, so it wasn't until everything was resolved that I really started to think about it. I feel so bad for that poor little dog. I mean, my cat hasn't been allowed to venture off his 4 foot lead during our porch sessions since I adopted him, but DOGS are MEANT to go outside, go for walks, run around the yard, etc etc...

Anyway, I am willing to put money on that dog's future allergies, if the article's hypothesis is correct. Maybe it's something to consider that instead of only working so hard to shield our pets from every microscopic enemy, we should also concentrate just as hard on keeping their immune systems happy and occupied.

Maybe someday I'll do a brilliant research study on little white dogs and allergies and make lots of money.

Nah, too lazy.

Identity Crisis

2008-01-23T16:02:00.000-08:00

Father and 12-ish daughter came in yesterday, hauling a giant pink cat carrier with a fatish tabby cat outfitted in a pink rhinestone collar. They were new clients, just moved to our area from some state on the other side of the country. The cat was a 10 year old spayed female, due for annual exam and other such fun. Her name was Princess Muffykins or something along those lines. Yay.

We went through the usual speel of extracting a fecal sample, giving vaccines, recommending senior bloodwork and urine tests, and watching their eyes glaze over at the mention of dental care and weight loss. In other words, the usual.

Then came the good part.

Associate Vet was finishing her usual painstakingly thorough exam - we moved from the head to the heart and lungs to the abdomen, rolled the cat over on her belly, etc etc etc...then for the last part, she lifted the tail to check the rectal and genital area.

I'm not so good at writing suspense, so let's just say she paused, grabbed the chart, then went back and picked up the tail again. Then something to this effect took place:

Vet: "Have you had her since she was a kitten?"

Father: "Yup yup"

Vet: "Well..."SHE" is definitely a "HE""

Father: "Huh? What? That's impossible!"

::Vet flips cat around and shows father the small and empty but very real scrotal sac::

Father: "But we had her spayded! She had a big incision on her belly and everything!"

Vet: "Uh huh, I see, but he's definitely a boy. A neutered boy, but a boy."

Father and daughter sputter on in disbelief as to the impossibility of this matter.

Father: "But they charged us for a spay! They didn't do a spay?"

Ah, yes. Yes they did. How? Any variety of ways - the kitten gets sexed wrong at the first visit, and no one doublechecks before the surgery, or maybe the owner tells the clinic the cat is female without really knowing, and no one corrects his assumption during the exam. Either way, some one screwed up and instead of telling the owner, apologizing, and charging for the correct surgery, they just quietly neutered the kitten and hoped that no one would find out for awhile. I would really have liked to have seen the alerts in that patient's chart - "ALERT - CAT IS MALE, OWNER THINKS HE'S A FEMALE BECAUSE WE SPAYED HIM/HER. DON'T TELL OWNER. ALSO, MUST KEEP OWNER AS A CLIENT FOR LIFE OF CAT, OTHERWISE OTHER VET MAY SPILL THE BEANS AND THEN WE'LL GET OUR PANTS SUED OFF." He he. Whoops.

The best part is, the family still refers to he as a "she", and has yet to re-name him. Poor Mr. Princess Muffykins.

If in doubt:
http://www.thepetcenter.com/exa/kitx.html

2008-01-12T14:22:00.000-08:00

Annual visit, 2 year old MORBIDLY OBESE miniature dachshund mix. As in, wider than she is long. As in, 30+ pounds when she should be around 10.

Owner: So, I, uhm, heard about that one drug, Slim-, no, Slen-something? (c'mon, we all know you've spent the past three hours before your appointment furiously pouring over Pfizer's webpage)

Me: Slentrol? (internal sigh)

Owner: Yes! That's it? Do ya think it'd work for her?

Me: Well, have you tried cutting back on her food or increasing her exercise?

Owner: Well....no....(clearly)....she doesn't like to move around too much, ya know....and the kids feed her stuff from the table, I just can't stop them...(I bet I can.)

I want to beat you over the head with this giant stack of shiny Slentrol brochures I have no use for.

Full disclosure: We have yet to actually prescribe Slentrol for a case, so I can't truly comment on it's effectiveness. Maybe it's really liquid magic, but like all diet drugs, I highly doubt it. I am currently neck-deep in slick, colorful Slentrol handouts emblazoned with fat, sad dogs with big eyes and "Body Assessment Rating for Canines" thingies, compliments of Pfizer. Apparently, February is National Canine Weight Check Month or something like that (according to Pfizer).

Of course, it's supposed to be used in addition to exercise and calorie restriction - but what fun is that? Chances are, if your dog is fat, too little exercise and too little calorie restriction got him into the mess in the first place. And why, WHY, would you pay for an expensive medication when you could pay LESS by JUST NOT FEEDING SO DAMN MUCH? I just can't fathom why it's so hard to just say "No. 1/2 cup a day for you. No more. Go chase a ball or something." I have yet to see a euthyroid dog that failed to lose weight if the owners really stuck to cutting back on food (or switching to a lower-calorie food), and made an effort to increase the exercise.

On a different note, after a run on coccidia-laden puppies and counting out sixteen thousand tablets of Primor, I'm convinced Pfizer has an obsession with little blue pills.

Speaking of which, we have this middle-aged male client that always comes in wearing Viagra t-shirts. I really hope he's a urologist or something.

2008-01-11T13:48:00.000-08:00

An open letter to the family I house/pet-sit for:

Seriously, y'all, it's been a couple years now. You pay me great, your house is awesome, your dogs and cats are sweet and all that shiz, but what do you think I'm up to? I swear, I'm not throwing keggers, I'm not practicing Santeria in the back yard, I'm not running an opium den in the basement - do you really feel the need to orchestrate "random" drop-bys of your friends/neighbors/family members? Really? Don't you think that by now, you would have found at least one stray beer can or chicken head? Honestly, when I'm not working/studying/going to class, I spend 95% of my time lying in your bed, eating Taquitos and pot pies and watching Dirty Jobs on the Discovery Channel, fantasizing about Mike Rowe following me around for a day at my job, wincing at castrations and making snarky double entendres about fecal loops or something (afterwards, we could go out to dinner, have a few drinks...you know...maybe take a shower and wash off the cat pee?). Anyway, I digress. The remaining 5% of the time is spent walking back and forth from the kitchen, nuking more pot pies and Taquitos.

Why is this an issue, you ask?

Well, you see, their dogs are very high maintenance - they HAVE to go out every 2-3 hours, or they pee/poop on the rug that cost more than my car - this is very frustrating as I am not able to run home every 2-3 hours, and there is no reason why adult, perfectly healthy dogs can't hold their bowels for a couple hours. Clearly, it makes me look like a bad pet-sitter when the owners come home to gajillion pee spots, and I can only clean up so many in secrecy before they start to notice their supply of Nature's Miracle is starting to diminish. So, I took to putting them in the laundry room while I was at work/class - and magically - they went 5-6 hours with no accidents. Much more manageable. And, their laundry room is at least three times the size of my freshman dorm, so it's more than enough space for two medium-sized dogs, plus their giant beds and toys. Guilt level = 0.

Until, yesterday, I came home to the dogs running free in the house, with a sticky note attached to the laundry room door:
"Locking dogs in laundry room is UNACCEPTABLE." Underline, underline. No signature. Uhhh, OK whatev.

(1.) Technically they weren't "locked", just closed in.
(2.) Just WHY is that unacceptable? What do you think the dogs do in a giant house while no one's home? Run from room to room critiqueing the artwork? No. They sleep. And in this case, pee.
(3.) Who are you and why were you in the house?

This isn't the first time people have popped up out of nowhere - I can't count the number of times I've woken up to the housekeeper dusting my nightstand, or come home to some form the anonymous note "Stopped by - you weren't here. I'll be back." WHAT THE HELL? The worst was the time I was taking a shower upstairs, and I heard the dogs go crazy over something downstairs - I though it was the UPS guy or a squirrel or something since they stopped after a few minutes. I got out, put on a towel, and trotted downstairs just to make sure - I turned the corner and ran smack into a delivery guy and his partner dragging a new dishwasher. I screamed (managed to hold up my towel, at least), and they just kind of stared at me blankly and said "Well, she gave us the garage code so we just came in."

I just can't help but to assume that the only reason to NOT give a simple warning the person staying in your home "Hey, so-and-so is coming by to do such-and-such" is to hope to catch them in the middle of something. Grrrrrrrrrrrrr.

Procrastination

2008-01-08T14:15:00.000-08:00

Sorry no updates for the past few days. Classes started last week - ew. Disgruntled rants about Slentrol coming soon, I promise!

Non-Client Related

2007-12-30T09:16:00.000-08:00

Like I mentioned before, we've been crazy busy lately - not only do we have a huge influx of boarders and sick pets, but half our staff decided that now would be a good time to take their vacations. Now, there's a policy that no more than one person can take a vacation day at the same time - if you want that day off too, you have to find someone to cover you. If no one will cover for you, then you have to have it approved by Boss Vet. Not too complicated, right? Except that many many moons ago, everyone gave Boss Vet their vacation days and she approved all of them without actually looking at the dates. Henceforth, the shit hit the fan when everyone (including Boss Vet) realized that we were going to be working with a skeleton crew for the two busiest weeks of the year - well, actually only half of "everyone" cared, because the other half had already packed their bags and were getting the hell out of Dodge. Whoops.

The remainder of the staff consisted of a couple kennel people, a couple receptionists, and moi. This was essentially the veterinary equivalent of a miniature apocalypse, and the beginning of my slow descent into insanity.

I actually started crying on Saturday morning when the receptionist told me that the only kennel person with any shred of knowledge of lab or exam had just called off sick, thus leaving me all alone to run a full book of doctor appointments and tech appointments (scheduled for the same time slots) for the EIGHTH day in a row (I may have over-reacted a little, but I was low on sleep and high on caffeine). Also, I was working with Slow Vet, and while she is incredibly smart and cautious and thorough and she is my first choice for my own pets, it's hard to convince the clients her miraculous skills after they've been waiting for 50 minutes. It is physically impossible for one person to be responsible for getting a client in the room, going over estimates, gathering a history, getting vaccines ready, gathering samples, setting up and reading heartworms/fecals/ERDs/UAs/cytologies, holding pets for the exam, putting all the charges in the computer, doing paperwork and cleaning up, while simultaneously starting two more appointments AND answering phones without getting behind.

If I wouldn't have had my shiny clicky pen, I might have killed someone. I guard that thing with my life.

2007-12-29T20:13:00.000-08:00

Most of the day-to-day appointments at a small practice are your basic annual exams, ear/eye/skin infections, UTI's, URI's, etc etc - very important for the health of your pet, but on the excite-O-meter, they wobble right around a solid 1.5-2 out of 10. However, our awesome client base is guaranteed to bring on the crazy every once in a while.

Case: Young couple with a 3 yr old M/N Lab, not acting right, not eating well, vomiting and diarrhea on and off for the past few days. Fecal spin and smear = negative. Slight fever.

Me: "Anything you can think of that he could have gotten into or swallowed? Any plants, poisons, trash, toys, etc.?"

Husband: "No."

Wife: "Well, actually he did eat something. But it's not important."

Me + Husband: "What did he eat?"

Wife: "I can't tell you in front of my husband. It's too embarrassing."

Me: "I can assure you that whatever it is, I've seen it at least twice before. Really. Tampons, pads, bras, panties, condoms, you name it. Can it really be worse than that?"

Wife: "No, really, he'll make fun of me. Anyway, it's not important."

Husband: "I guess I'll just excuse myself then, honey." (leaves room)

Me: "Well?"

Wife: "I still can't tell you."

Me: ::headdesk::

The vet tried to drag it out of her too, but to no avail. They declined diagnostics so we sent the pup home on i/d and antibiotics and famotidine - I called today and he is apparently doing much better. My brain cells, however, will never recover.

2007-12-29T15:24:00.000-08:00

Receptionist hands me the chart for the drop-off appointment. New client, new dog, just adopted from shelter. The shelter records indicate that she is a 2 yr F/S white & brindle Whippet mix. Her name is Libby (not really). Good stuff. I check her vaccine history and get her boosters ready. I grab a leash and walk out the drop-off cages, where I see three dogs - a big Lab, a Pit Bull, and a nervous-looking Maltese sandwiched in middle cage. Hmm. No Libby. I trot off to find the receptionist.

Me: "Where's Libby?"

Receptionist: "In the third cage over there. Didn't you see the name tag?"

Me: "But Libby's a Whippet. There are no Whippets."

Receptionist: ::blank stare:: ::shrug::

At the county shelter, you see, Pit Bulls have three days to live and are considered "unadoptable". Also, the shelter isn't in the business of adopting out fighting dogs to potential dog fighters. However, since shelter workers possess the most hemorrhaging of the bleeding hearts, we see lots of purebred/mostly purebred Pits passed off as Lab Mixes and Boxer Mixes.

Clearly, they are getting more creative.

I pulled the owner aside when she came back to make sure that she understood that Whippets do not weigh 50 pounds of solid muscle and do not possess enormously broad heads and linebacker shoulders.

Very sweet and very gorgeous pit bull, though. She followed me around and sat on top of my feet whenever I stopped for a second.

Put the Puggle down and back away

2007-12-29T13:44:00.000-08:00

We've been crazy busy lately due to the holidays (we do boarding too). Pets take a back seat during the whole Christmas happy-fun-family-time, so our schedule for each day this week has been filled to the brimmed with:

1.) My dog has been vomiting and not eating for a week can you get him in RIGHTNOW but I don't have any money cuz of the holidays - oh he's been limping too.

2.) Friday morning: I got my kid a new puppy for christmas and the breeder says he's gotta be seen within 72 hours, I need to get in RIGHTNOW. Also, I don't have any money, I spent it all on the puppy.

That's right - the Christmas Puppy Season has arrived in full-force. It's this time of year that makes me really want to send Petland a giant pile of steaming poo for having to endure all the mind-numbing agony of the Petland Puppy Appointment over and over and over and over.......

(1)
"I'm sorry, Mrs. Smith, but "Schnoodle-Tzu" is not a breed choice in our software, so you'll have to settle for "Poodle Mix" on Princess's account, OK? No, I'm afraid it's not going to be AKC recognized anytime soon. That's right. The puppy-mill supporting corporation that feeds on the souls of window-shopping suckers lied to you."

(2)
Owner: "What's this sqooshy thing here on her belly?"
Me: ::poke poke:: "That would be an umbilical hernia. We'll keep an eye on it and correct it during her spay unless it gets bigger."
Owner: "Oh, we're not going to have her spayded. The kid at the petstore said she's got papers."

(3)
Owner: "What does cryptorchid mean?"
Me: It's veterinary speak for "Your neuter cost just went up."

(4)
Owner: "He's a Chinese Crested - Coton hybrid. Don't you see it in the tail?"
Me: "Are you sure? He sure looks like an Irish terrier. What with the wiry red coat and all..."

On a serious note:

Good breeders are hard to find, because it's not cheap to do all the testing and certification prior to breeding and all the veterinary care during the pregnancy and during/after the birth. It's hard to make a profit off a litter, if there's a profit to be had at all. It's much easier to just smash two dogs together and farm out whatever little genetic minefields are produced to the highest (or first) bidder. For the love of god, if you want a purebred dog, do your research, visit lots of breeders, ask lots of questions, and then ask more questions. Find a breeder that really loves the breed and knows what they're doing - the puppy you choose will be your responsibility for the next 10-15+ years, inherited health problems and all. It's worth a little extra time and money if it means a healthy, well-bred, well-tempered dog. It's not the petstore puppy's fault that they were born in a puppy mill, but by buying that puppy, you enable the whole process to continue.

2007-12-24T10:54:00.000-08:00

Joyous excerpts from today:

1.) "How long as problem X been going on for?" is not an abstract question. "Awhile", "A long time", "Not too long", and "Somewhere between a week and 5 months, he goes outside alot" are not too helpful. Also, when you tell me that Fluffy's ear infection has been raging on for three weeks, but swear to the doctor that it's only been since yesterday, everyone gets confused.

2.) That 6 months of Heartgard you bought back in '04? It's expired now, and no, you have NOT been giving it every 30 days all year-round. At least be creative with your lies. "I got some after my wife's cousin's boyfriend's sister's dog died" might get you a pass, but "I swear I just bought it here! You must just not keep very good records. I put the stickers on the calendar and everything" will not. Kthxbai.

3.) Standing in the corner and talking on your cell phone while the vet and three techs wrestle your growling, chomping, blood-thirsty piranha mix into submission is strongly indicative of your laissez-faire philosophy towards discipline. Also indicative of this is your three year-old, who sneaks up behind the vet and sprays her leg with Rocal. True, you're not allowed to restrain your animal, but a couple verbal corrections are highly appreciated. If that's too much, at least hand me a paper towel to sop my blood off the table.

4.) Your pre-teen child is not an acceptable substitute for you or your spouse/significant other/SOMEONE over 18. It's very nice that they want to be a vet when they grow up, but you still cannot send them in your place for your appointment because it's "just the doggie doctor". Especially when you're just sitting out there in the car. That's right, you. I can see you. Oh, and you didn't send them with any form of payment? Scoot.

5.) Your new kitten Princess Mittenpaws has never been to a vet and has never had vaccines or deworming, but she's already had a FeLK/FIV test? I'm in awe. Surely you have proof of such a miracle? No? I see.

2007-12-22T15:16:00.000-08:00

Award-winning phone call for today:

(Background: Our hospital is one of the first ones listed in the almighty phone book, so we're at the front lines for the crazy attacks.)

Me: "Super Awesome Animal Hospital, this is Super Awesome Me, how can I help you?"

Not A Client: "Uhh, hey there. I's gots a question, uhhh, bout's mah pit bulls."

Me: "Ok, I can try to help you." (Oh boy.)

Not A Client: "Walls, I's gots this girl pit bull, ya see, and I was plannin' on matin' her with my male, ya see." (Always a flawless plan. Please continue.) "Buts, my friend brought HIS male over yesterday, and he kinda gots to her first." (Superb! At this point, I'm anticipating the "Can I get her an abortion without spaying her?" question. To his credit, that did not come up.) "I'm gonna keep the puppies and all, but when I breed her to my male next time I don't wants my male's puppies to look like my buddy's male." (WTF?)

Me: "I'm sorry?

Not A Client: "Wall, his male's sperm will, like, stay in her blood and all, ain't that right? So once she has his puppies, all the rest of her litters will look like him too?" (He didn't say sperm, it was far more colorful.)

Me: "No, no, there's no sperm in her blood."

Not A Client: "So where does it go?"

Me: "Uhh...." (I then tried to briefly explain the basics of reproduction and sperm + egg = embryo, etc. He interrupted me halfway through.)

Not A Client: "So my male's puppies won't look like my buddy's pit?"

Me: "No. Just...no."

Not A Client: "Mmk, thanks."

The guy was very nice and all, just seriously shaky on his Punnett squares and had no business breeding dogs. Honestly, where do people get this stuff?

The best breeding discussion of all time, however, goes to the conversation between my boss and a client hellbent on breeding her two Rottweilers.

Client: "I gotta breed 'em, my kids want puppies/everyone says how pretty they are/other bs reason."

Vet: (has already done the why-not-to-breeed speech, looks at the two genetic minefields on the floor in front of her, and sighs.) "Well, they're not related, at least, right?"

Client: "Yah, he's her uncle."

More breeding anecdotes later.

First Date Icebreaker

2007-12-21T19:24:00.000-08:00

Almost inevitably in the life of your dog, he will likely exhibit the tell-tale signs of scooting across the carpet, and licking and/or chewing at his rear end. Tell-tale signs of what, you ask? Anal glands, hooray!

Technically speaking, they are scent glands located on either side of your dog's rectum, right inside the anal sphincter. They're at about 8 and 4, if you apply clock imagery to your pet's anus (no need to thank me). If enlarged, they feel sort of like grapes. Grapes that need to be squeezed. Only instead of grape juice, you'll get a light yellow, slightly opaque, highly odorous liquid that was once used as a scent marker when dogs were still running around doing the wild dog thing. They are supposed to empty a little bit of fluid with every bowel movement, but they can easily become clogged and enlarged.

And that's when we meet.

Actually, if given the choice between doing a nail trim or anal glands, I usually choose anal glands. They're gross, yeah, life sucks. During a high school shadow day a few years ago, I watched a girl turn an amazing shade of white and crumple to the floor of the exam room when the smell hit her. Hilarious. But suprisingly, most dogs are perfectly stoic about having my finger inside their nether regions, but do a wild-eyed kamikaze dive off the table and slither under the chair as soon as the nail trimmers come out. When it's a 90-lb lab, that action usually ends in two people, a muzzle, improvised wrestling moves, styptic powder (b/c the nails are always black, of course), and an ever-helpful owner breathing on the back of my neck.

So yes, bring on the anal glands. But thank god humans don't have them.

Genesis

2007-12-21T18:40:00.000-08:00

After 6 years as a highly trained monkey in the veterinary field, I've arrived at the conclusion that it may be cathartic to express my various opinions, frustations, and general anecdotes through writing (anonymous as it may be). I promise to try to update frequently, and keep an upbeat spin on things - like most others, my job is filled with some great stuff and some not-so-great stuff on a daily basis, but with th extra touch of pet-induced wackiness thrown in. Hopefully someone besides me finds it interesting.

Some not-too-divulgent background:

I work in a small animal private practice in an affluent suburb - we have two doctors and a close-knit staff, and a steady flow of a "diverse" group of clients and their fur-children. I am a pre-vet student gearing up for application to vet school in the very near future - my life breaks down as follows:

50% of time: Toiling through biochemistry, organic chemistry, anatomy, physiology, physics, and math. Also known as masochism.
30% of time: Placating crazy cat ladies, scrubbing anal gland juice/blood/urine out of my scrubs, looking up lolcats on the internet when the boss goes on lunch break.
15% of time: House/Pet-sitting, aka, eating all your food. Don't blame me, you left a full fridge and a starving college student alone in a room together. Thanks for the check, by the way.
5% of time: Sleeping. Usually sans pillow, as that becomes my cat's official bed at about 2 am.

Anywho, real topics coming soon. I'm hungry now.