Pawcurious Vet Blog: Pet help, stories, and information with Dr. V

The last day of 2008 was one I’d just as soon not remember. I was mulling on this last week, trying to remember what I did and who I was with, and coming up blank. Until I remembered: Oh, that.

The latter half of 2008 had been spent, starting in June, consulting with the radiation oncologist and toting Mulan back and forth to appointments that left her exhausted, tired, and ultimately, no better. If you’re new to the blog, I wrote about Mu here. There’s a reason that post is at the top of my favorites list- I just adored that little girl.

On New Year’s Eve, one year ago today, I said goodbye.

As I drifted into a dreamless sleep that night, I hoped and prayed that the next year would be a little less sad. Well, that didn’t turn out so well, did it. So this time, I’ll repeat my request, a little louder and a bit more forcefully:

DEAR UNIVERSE: I WOULD HEREBY LIKE TO MAKE A WITHDRAWAL FROM THE BANK OF GOOD KARMA AND ASK THAT 2010 USHER IN A YEAR OF GOOD HEALTH FOR MY ENTIRE FAMILY, BOTH  2 AND 4 LEGGED. SINCERELY, ME

It wasn’t all bad, though. I mean, sure I lost Emmett after a short and vicious fight with lymphosarcoma, and Calypso disappeared into the ether leaving me to this day short of breath when someone brings in a pet who survived a coyote attack and reminds me of what probably happened, and the guinea pig keeled over for absolutely no discernible reason whatsoever, but… well, I didn’t have to go it alone. I had the good fortune to have a sympathetic group who helped me through it here on the blog I am so glad I started.

And, of course, 2009 brought Brody. How can one be angry at a year that brought me that goofball? Yin and yang, life and death, we all scurry around in the hamsterball of life bumping into each other and then the wall, trying not to roll down the stairs.

Here’s to another year of staying on the landing. Cheers.

“What a day,
Oh what a day.
My baby brother ran away,
And now my tuba will not play.
I’m eight years old
And turning grey, Oh what a day, Oh what a day.”

-Shel Silverstein

What was that I was just saying about stress level being graded as a “D” for veterinarians? Well, today was an F+. The parvo puppy is still alive, and at least there is that. (Just thought I should put that out there first before you started to worry.)

Yesterday was a D-. Yesterday was very stressful, and on the way home I found myself taking deep breaths and praying for a little clarity, a little something to put all of this into perspective. It’s not all bad, right? Things could be much worse, right? And in God’s infinite wisdom sprinkled with a generous helping of incisive irony, He agreed. After all, yesterday could have been worse, as bad as, say, today. Today, which involved me calling my boss to ask her how long one should continue to administer CPR to an unresponsive pet when you can’t reach the owner on the phone:

Boss: Sorry that took a minute to pick up, what’s going on?

Me: Well- oh, wait, the tech is shaking her head….never mind.

It was an example of a dedicated team pouring their heart into lifesaving efforts, with nothing to show for it. In other words, the non Hollywood version. It was sad, and horrible, and we all cried a little and vowed to go home and drink.

To add insult to injury, while this was going down Brody got put in time-out at doggy daycare for getting in a tussle (I’m pretty sure it was the other dog’s fault. At least I hope so.) And I’m pretty sure I ripped my pants trying to pick up a 30 pound dog with metastatic lung cancer because I ate too many Christmas cookies and they were a bit snug. And my Diet Pepsi was flat.

On the way home, I got pulled over at a DUI checkpoint- two days before New Year’s Eve. What kind of people live around here anyway? Who gets started two days early? As I was pulling up to the checkpoint, I had a moment of panic because I was talking to my sister on a Bluetooth which, despite being perfectly legal still seemed like something a cop would frown upon.

“I have to GO! I’m getting PULLED OVER!” I yelled into my headset, as a stone faced cop shone a flashlight in my eye.

“Going to a wild party tonight?” he asked, and I just had to laugh, me in my fur covered Dockers, and mutter “I wish”. “No, ” I replied in a haggard voice, “I’m just heading home from work.”

Then he asked for my license, which was in the backseat by Brody. “Hang on just a minute,” I said, “it’s in the backseat under the dog.” He nodded, and as he shone his light in Brody’s face he did exactly what you want your dog to do when surrounded by armed law enforcement: growl menacingly.

“A ha ha, don’t mind him, sir, he’s had a long day at doggie daycare,” I said as we gradually became surrounded by 4 other cops. As one of them asked me why Brody wasn’t wearing a seat belt (I know, I know) I started emptying my backpack out onto the frontseat trying to find my wallet. Kindle, iphone, uh, prescription bottle of random dog antibiotics (flagyl)….uh oh, I think that’s an empty syringe in the bottom there….this really looks bad to the untrained eye, doesn’t it?….

By this point I was actually praying for Brody to continue growling, since that would deflect the attention from the 100% legally prescribed yet to the outside eye perhaps a bit suspicious items that would probably cause me to undergo secondary screening and further delay me from my much needed evening unwinding. I stuffed the syringe back into the backpack under a coffee mug and smiled widely at the cop, who had by now returned his attention to me.

I’m not a meth addict or a drunk driver, dammit. Just a tired veterinarian who just had to tell a very nice old lady that her dog unexpectedly died on my watch and I want to go home.

I guess something in my eyes convinced him. He looked at my license, opened his mouth to say something, then paused and said, “Drive safely. Have a nice day.” A little too late for that, but thanks for the sentiment.

wikith, Dianne, and Debbie- you were randomly chosen by my three year old for the Honest Kitchen samples! Send me your mailing info through my contact info and I will get those out to you. I was very sad I only had three samples to share, but them’s the breaks.

But GUESS WHAT? Everyone else wins too!

When they saw my last post, I was contacted by the lovely Carmen over at Honest Kitchen, who let me know that they will be happy to provide a free sample to any interested reader. Just send them a note at questions@thehonestkitchen.com with which food you would like to try and make sure to tell them Brody sent you. (OK, I made up that last part about Brody. It’s just something I’ve always wanted to say.)

Brody’s been munching his way through a large variety of food products lately, both good and bad, so I thought this was a good time to share his latest product review. The folks over at The Honest Kitchen sent us a variety of samples from their dehydrated raw food product line to try out, and Brody was more than happy to oblige.

The food he chose to sample was Embark, one of their two “All life stages” formulations.

1. It starts off looking kind of like green soup mix (it has that bouillon aroma, as well).

2. Then you add warm water, and it kind of looks like green soupy sludge. That’s OK though, it gets better.

3. After it rehydrates, it looks rather like stew. You can serve it as is (like I do), or mix it with fresh veggies and meat like my less lazy clients do. As a person who came close to gagging during my brief foray into the world of a raw vension diet for Apollo, I sincerely appreciate the chicken soup-y non offensive aroma of this stuff. Not that my opinion matters, though.

Did Brody like it?

I think the picture speaks for itself. See the worried look on his face? Despite licking the bowl to a reflective sheen, he is angling to get the remaining bits from the side.

I attempted a video like I’ve done with other product reviews, but trust me when I say we’re all happier without me unleashing it on the blog. It was not my finest work. I had some technical difficulties with the PowerShot, which I’ve never used for video before, and let’s just say I needed a Dramamine to make it through the first 30 seconds. Next time I’ll make my husband shoot it.

Anyway, a little more about the Honest Kitchen product: One of the reasons I like this food, and use it often in my rotation, is the following (from their website):

All our products are safe for human consumption, a requirement for entry into the human food facility where our products are made… Production occurs in a FDA inspected human food facility right here in California, alongside products such as breakfast cereals and beverage mixes for human consumption.

And this: “Our meat and egg ingredients are dehydrated at a high enough temperature to kill any pathogenic bacteria that may be present.” So this is a good choice for someone like me who is interested in raw, but has a hard time with the squidgy factor.

There are lots of other great reasons to check this food out. There is tons and tons of information about The Honest Kitchen’s product line, dedication to sustainably sourced materials, and processing on their website. It’s easy to feel good about and still very convenient.

So let’s share the wealth! I have three samples to hand out: 2 one ounce samples of  Thrive (this is the one I have a big box of for Brody), and a 4 ounce sample of Verve. Leave a comment with which one you’d like to try, and I’ll pick winners at random at the end of the day. Only catch is you must let me know what your dog thinks of it.

Every December, people start making lists. Best of, worst of, most memorable- everyone loves to make little lists that organize the year’s events and data into a nice bite sized chunk. Last week, I stumbled upon CNN’s 50 Best Jobs of 2009. I’m not sure what complicated algorithm they used to come up with this list, but I looked out of curiosity and sure enough, there was veterinarian, smack dab in the middle at Number 25. It’s above corporate paralegal, but below CPA. Sounds about right.

My favorite part of their job description summary is the Quality of Life ratings:

Personal Satisfaction: B

Job Security: B

Future Growth: B

Benefit to Society: A

Low Stress: D

Notice the outlier there? Looks about right, and I think most vets would agree. The grades are pretty spot on, though I will say that “Personal Satisfaction” varies from day to day and leave it at that.

No self-respecting Top 50 list would be complete without opening it to the floor for comments/ discussion/ disagreement, and this article was no different. It’s always interesting to see who cares about the topic strongly enough to be moved to actually make a comment, and what they have to say. Not to be disappointed, right near the beginning of the comment section we meet someone named Jon, who has this to say about my profession:

“Benefit to society? A? Seriously? It should be given an F for wasting money on useless objects. Benefit to society, more like a thorn in our side. I don’t know how anyone could wake up and be ok with themselves knowing they are wasting all these resources on animals, or how you could take an animal to a vet and spend X amount of money on your pet when there are millions of people around the world who NEED medical treatment and DONT get it. You guys are pathetic and your pets are useless to society.”

Dear Jon:

Yes, well, erm, one can only assume- and fervently hope- that you don’t have pets. From the irrationally hateful tone to this post I take it that your parents own two fluffy Maltese who sleep on velvet bolsters in the master bedroom and eat filet mignon from crystal dishes while you, sad, shoeless Jon, have to live under the stairs and eat cobweb stew.

I could direct you to myriad medical journals chronicling the positive health benefits of pet ownership. I could comment on the role veterinarians play in protecting public health via food animal safety and medicine. I could ask you what you personally are doing to solve the problem of millions of people who need better medical care. But I won’t, because I know you probably won’t listen to dregs such as myself anyway.

I wake up in the morning and I’m OK with myself because I’ve treated a cat, the lone companion of an elderly woman whose husband passed away last year. Because I’ve met dogs who help autistic children function in society. Because had I followed my initial career trajectory, I’d be an MD and stuck treating concrete headed louts like yourself instead of those useless dogs and cats out there who make life better for the pathetic people who are obviously not charitable titans of society such as yourself, you sad, misguided little twerp.

Sincerely,

Dr. V

The parvo puppy is still hanging in. Every day he survives is a victory, and I’m allowing myself to feel optimistic for the first time since he was admitted.

On the second day he was hospitalized, he was struggling. The plasma transfusion we performed had been minimally helpful. So once again, I pulled a Hail Mary and called in the quarterback.

He’s so big now, and the wee pup so small, I barely needed anything to get enough for a blood transfusion. Fresh whole blood has some majorly nice goodies in it- antibodies, white blood cells, red blood cells. Brody was very good. He trusts me and my team, even though we did something uncomfortable. We made it up to him, promise.

I normally wouldn’t have fallen sucker to the lure of the 5 ton rawhide bone, but it’s Christmas, and you have to admit for a puppy only 7 months old Brody has done a lot of good in this world to deserve it.

A couple of weeks ago, I saw the last puppy I used Brody to transfuse. She is three times the size she was back then, happy and shiny and wiggly. Like this puppy, she had a whole lot of negative prognostic indicators that should have meant her demise. The dog we have now is in even worse shape, practically and statistically speaking, but if you think about that too much you give up too soon.

I got a wee bit emotional on Christmas Eve thinking about the universe and the role we all play in it, hoping against hope that lightning will indeed strike twice and I will be lucky enough to pull off something that I shouldn’t be able to.

And by “I”, I mean everyone- the owners who agreed to let us try, knowing the odds were 50/50 at best and committing to pay to treat this puppy they have owned for 4 days. My team, who sat with the puppy doing a multitude of treatments, keeping him warm, talking to him, and coming in on Christmas to do all of this. And my bosses, who gave me lots of helpful advice on the case and never once suggested I recommend these owners throw in the towel.

I asked for a few things this Christmas- a nice scarf, a sweet Santoku knife (seriously, every house should have one) but more than anything I asked for something even Santa couldn’t bring: on this day, if only for a moment, please make Kevin stay at home.

And he did. I do not know what tomorrow brings, but today continued to bring hope, and that is more than I thought I would have. Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night.