Coated With Fur: A Blind Cat's Love

by Kristen Nelson

  Coated With Fur

  A Blind Cat’s Love

  Kristen Nelson, D.V.M.

  Published by:

  Veterinary Creative, L.L.C.,

  Kindle Edition

  Coated With Fur: A Blind Cat’s Love

  Copyright © 2014 by Kristen Nelson, D.V.M.

  Discover other titles by Dr. Nelson

  Coated With Fur: A Vet’s Life

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. For more information, contact:

  Dr. Kristen Nelson

  480-236-1841

  mail to: drnelson@veterinarycreative.com

  ISBN: 978-1-936278-18-3

  ISBN: 1-936278-18-9

  Dedication

  To my parents,

  Bobbe and Gordon Lindstrom

  Contents

  Chapter 1: Puppies!

  Chapter 2: Mariposa

  Chapter 3: Yellow Cat

  Chapter 4: Slumber Party

  Chapter 5: Blind Kitten

  Chapter 6: Exhaustion

  Chapter 7: Louisa and Peeper

  Chapter 8: Tom and Zip

  Chapter 9: Gurney Nap

  Chapter 10: Emergency

  Chapter 11: Green Iguana

  Chapter 12: Snowflake the Cat

  Chapter 13: Hog Dogs

  Chapter 14: Head Tilt

  Chapter 15: Misdiagnosis

  Chapter 16: Recheck

  Chapter 17: Saint Francis

  Chapter 18: Gingerbread Man

  Chapter 19: Septic Shock

  Chapter 20: A New Addition

  Chapter 21: Ivan’s Girl

  Chapter 22: Norwegian Elkhound

  Chapter 23: Bargaining Chip

  Chapter 24: Storm Clouds

  Chapter 25: Lilah the German Shepherd

  Chapter 26: Butch Returns

  Chapter 27: Radar’s Surgery

  Chapter 28: C-section

  Chapter 29: Missing Pups

  Chapter 30: Farley the Basset Hound

  Chapter 31: Radar

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Connect with the Author

  Other Books by Dr. Nelson

  Disclaimer

  This book is about the wonderful animals and people I met when I opened a veterinary practice in Burnsville, Minn., in 1992. With the exception of my own family and pets, I changed the names and other identifying characteristics to preserve confidentiality. Any similarity between details as they appear in this book and actual people or pets is strictly coincidental.

  Chapter 1

  Puppies!

  “Come on, Ashley…push!” I instructed the pregnant golden retriever. “You can do it!” This first-time mom stared at me for two seconds. Her eyes pleaded for help — she did not understand what was happening. Suddenly, she rocked backward as a contraction consumed her body. She squeezed for five grueling seconds, then collapsed on her side, panting. I inserted my gloved forefinger into her vagina — nothing!

  “Steve, hold her for me.” My husband knelt down beside Ashley, slid his arm around her neck and drew her toward him. I cupped my hand, trying to make it as small as possible before re-inserting it. During the next contraction, a pup brushed the tip of my middle finger.

  “Bad news, Laura,” I told Ashley’s owner. “When she contracted, I felt a puppy’s side, not its head or tail. I’m worried that she’s got one sideways across her pelvis. ”

  “Can you reposition it?” the 30-something woman asked with a hopeful expression.

  “In a cow…yes, I could reposition the calf and do a vaginal delivery. But I’m afraid Ashley is too small.” I sighed and removed my hand. “During contraction, I can only feel the pup with my fingertips.” I stood up and removed the glove. “She needs a C-section right away, Laura.”

  C-section…the word Laura feared most. As a child, Laura’s best friend was a chubby Yorkie named Bell. They were inseparable, even sleeping together. Unfortunately, Bell went into heat before Laura’s parents got around to getting her spayed. Laura kept her away from all other dogs, just as her parents had instructed. They did not want her to get pregnant. After 10 days of wearing a doggy diaper, the discharge stopped, and Laura allowed Bell outside, believing the cycle was over. She didn’t realize that this was the perfect time to breed Bell. She was in standing heat.

  Bell met up with a male twice her size and died during a C-section.

  “Are you absolutely sure about this?” Laura asked. She nervously twirled her blond hair — the same color as Ashley’s coat — as she waited for my answer.

  “We’ll take some X-rays to confirm the pup’s position,” I responded in a firm but gentle manner. Laura looked at Ashley, then back to me. “But…”

  Before I could finish my sentence, she responded in an equally strong voice: “I need to be 100 percent certain that a C-section is the only option,” She pulled her hair into a tight rope. Strands broke under the pressure, popping when they hit the breaking point. I nodded and disappeared into the X-ray suite.

  Fifteen minutes later, two films hung on the light box in the treatment room. One showed Ashley on her back and the other on her side. Puppy skeletons filled her abdomen. I took out a marker and began to count. “One.” I wrote the number on the skull of the first puppy. “Two, three, four.” I repeated the process. “Here’s the problem child.” I pointed to the skeleton of a large puppy straddling Ashley’s pelvis. The skull of this pup dwarfed the others. “Wow, this pup is huge.”

  Laura joined me at the viewer. Her pupils dilated as she studied the black-and-white image.

  “Mitch has always wanted a large male to hunt with,” Laura said, forcing a smile. “I guess his wish came true.” Laura walked back over to Ashley, knelt by her side and hugged her. “I’m going to kill him for planning a business trip so close to your due date.”

  Steve looked at me and mouthed, “I’m glad I’m not Mitch.” Despite her small stature, Laura’s quick wit and athletic ability made her a formidable opponent. It appeared that Mitch had an upcoming reservation in the husband doghouse.

  “Laura, it will take us about 10 minutes to set up,” I said. “Ashley will be a mom in no time.” Ashley glanced up when she heard her name, only to be consumed by another contraction. I hoped the large pup was strong enough to withstand the force.

  I donned a cap and mask before heading to the OR. A large table occupied the middle of the room, with black cushioned floor mats on either side. I twisted the handles on each side of the table until the surface formed a ‘V’ to hold Ashley in place. Next, I placed a heating pad on the table and plugged in the pump. Warm water gurgled as the pump pushed it through the plastic pad. I covered the pad with a towel and placed another on the floor to help catch the amniotic fluid.

  The table ready, I walked to the cabinets on the far end of the room. Inside lay a variety of surgical packs and equipment, all wrapped in sterilized, blue paper drapes. I placed the largest pack on the Mayo stand, along with an assortment of sutures and a scalpel blade. After another trip to the cabinet for sterile gloves, towels and a gown, the room was ready.

  Back in the treatment room, strips of tape hung from a shelf above a table. An intravenous (IV) catheter lay on the counter next to a clipper, a bag of fluids and more bandaging material. Steve positioned the anesthetic machine at the head of the treatment table. The incubator hummed in the background.

  “I think we’re ready for her,” I announced after surveying Steve’s work. Laura threw her arms around Ashley and kissed her forehead. When she finally looked
up, tears streamed down her cheeks. Steve and I gently lifted Ashley onto the treatment table, trying not to put pressure on her distended abdomen. I clipped a two-inch patch of hair from her right front leg, cleaned it and placed the IV catheter. With fluids running, I connected a cone to the anesthesia machine and placed it over Ashley’s nose. Her eyes widened as she smelled the gas.

  “Go to sleep, Ashley; don’t fight it.” I stroked her fur as I said softly, “When you wake up, the contractions will be over.” Ashley looked at me but did not struggle. After Another minute of breathing the gas mixed with oxygen, she slept on the table. Five minutes later, she lay on her back under the bright lights of the operating room, surrounded by equipment. A monitor beeped in the background. Steve stood next to the table, scrubbing the dog’s abdomen. The black bag on the anesthesia machine moved with every breath.

  I entered the room backward, my hands in the air. Water dripped from my elbows onto the floor. “You’re making a mess before we even start,” Steve said, sounding annoyed. From the lines around his eyes, I knew he was smiling beneath his surgical mask. I nodded as I donned a surgical gown and gloves. Laura’s face appeared in the window of the OR door. She now twisted her hair with both hands. I motioned that we were ready to begin. The faster we could get these puppies out, the better their chance of survival.

  After draping Ashley, I picked up the scalpel and made one long incision down the center of her abdomen. A healthy, pink uterus bulged through the incision. In dogs, the uterus is shaped like a ‘Y’. The body of the uterus is small, but the arms are long to accommodate multiple fetuses. I shoved my gloved hands into her abdomen, exteriorized a portion of the massive organ and packed it off with moistened towels.

  “OK, I’m going to cut the uterus,” I mumbled through my mask. “Ready?”

  At this moment in the procedure, Steve always seemed to relish his role, pretending to be a catcher for the Minnesota Twins. “You betcha,” he said with a towel in his hands. “Bring on the babies!”

  With one quick motion, I incised the body of Ashley’s uterus. Amniotic fluid exploded out of the incision, down the drape and the front of my gown. I reached inside and delivered the first pup from the right side of the uterus. It was still encased in the amniotic sac. I popped the sac over the pup’s head, cleared its mouth of fluid and gently dropped it into Steve’s hands. He rubbed the precious package as he ran it out to Laura. When he returned, I was waiting with another pup. I removed the pups from each side of the uterus, two in each arm, before tackling the big bruiser straddling the base.

  “OK, I’m going for the big one,” I announced to Steve, who was busy rubbing a pup. I reached deep into the incision. I threaded my hand under the pup and tried to back him away from the cervix. He wouldn’t budge. It was as if he was suction-cupped in that position.

  “What’s wrong?” Steve’s eyes narrowed with concern. “What’s taking so long?” That was not helpful, I thought to myself. Steve knew from experience that I was deliberately fast with C-sections. The quicker I get the pups out, the less anesthesia, the better they do. My goal is always the same, to get all the pups out in less than 10 minutes. “It’s been exactly 10 minutes,” he announced while looking at his watch. OK, he is truly not helping, I said to myself again.

  “I think the pup is wedged into the pelvis.” I grunted. “I’m having a tough time getting my hand under him.” I inserted my left hand into Ashley’s abdomen but kept it outside of the uterus. With pressure from both hands, the pup popped loose, breaking his amniotic sac. “Got him,” I announced as I showed Steve the pup. “He’s huge.” I cleared his mouth with my pinky and began to rub his substantial body between my hands. This time, I ignored Steve’s out-stretched hands.

  “Why do you automatically assume it’s a boy?” he asked. “The big one could be a girl.”

  “Because in my experience, boys are usually the troublemakers,” I said with a wink. “Actually, the males are usually bigger than the females.” I flipped the pup over and, sure enough, he was all boy. He had a broad head with a bright pink nose.

  “I can take him, Kris. The other pups are doing great, so I can take him.” Steve put his hands closer to the pup but did not break the sterile field. “The suture is on the stand.”

  I placed the pup in a sterile towel and handed him off. “Are you sure everyone is all right?” He nodded. In between beeps from the EKG, I heard soft puppy squeals coming from the treatment room.

  “Yes, I’m happy to report that all the puppies and the owner are doing well,” he laughed. “I thought we were going to lose Laura, though.” He laughed again. “When she saw the first puppy, her face turned a sickly green color. After the puppy squeaked, she came back to normal pretty quickly.”

  “Squeak, squeak.” The large male pup made his first sounds.

  “Hey, little buddy,” Steve said, the smile lines reappearing around his eyes. “Welcome to the world. Let’s go meet the rest of your family.”

  In the treatment room, five puppies laid on a blanket, still attached to their amniotic sacs. Laura stood over them, her hands busy rubbing the new arrivals. Steve put on a pair of gloves and tied off all the umbilical cords with suture. Then he let Laura cut the cords.

  “These are beautiful pups, Laura!” he exclaimed. “How many girls and boys do we have here?”

  “I was so worried, I didn’t check,” Laura confessed. She glanced anxiously at the door to the operating room with the sign that read, “Cap and mask required.” “How is Ashley doing?”

  “Great! Now let’s see,” Steve picked up one of the blond pups. “This one is a girl.” He picked up another. “And this one is a girl.” Laura lifted two of the remaining pups, leaving the big one on the table.

  “And these two are boys.” She smiled and hugged them both. The smiled vanished as her thought returned to Ashley. “Are you sure that Ashley is OK?”

  “She’s doing great under anesthesia,” Steve replied. “Kris should be just about finished.” He repositioned the surgical mask over his mouth and returned to the OR.

  “How’s it going?” he asked as he checked Ashley’s vital signs.

  “I’m tying the final knot.” I watched the suture disappear under Ashley’s skin. With C-sections, I always perform a subcuticular closure — this pattern buries the suture beneath the skin, away from the puppy’s unopened eyes. Steve looked over the drapes to survey the incision.

  “Nice job, Sweetie,” he commented. He turned off the anesthetic gas, allowing Ashley to breathe pure oxygen. I removed the towel clamps, tossed them on the Mayo stand and rolled the drapes into a ball.

  “If you watch her, I’ll go set up a bed, Kris,” Steve said. “She needs another five minutes of oxygen.” Without waiting for a reply, he headed out of the room. I turned my head from side to side and stretched my back. Although I love bringing new life into the world, it is always stressful until the mother and babies are awake. I removed my gloves and stroked Ashley’s head, reveling in her soft fur. In my experience, golden retrievers usually have nice hair coats, but Ashley’s was exceptional. Her coat truly felt like velvet. I hoped she would pass the trait onto her pups. Ashley’s legs began to quiver, and her respiratory rate increased. She was waking up.

  When Steve returned, we rolled Ashley onto her side and disconnected her trach tube from the anesthetic machine. As was our custom, I took her front end while Steve got the rear to keep pressure off the incision. She quivered in our arms.

  “Oh, Ashley,” Laura exclaimed, covering her mouth with her hand. The green color returned as tears flowed down her face.

  “She’s doing great, Laura,” I reassured her, trying to keep her from fainting. We placed Ashley on the bed of blankets and covered her with a warm towel. Steve nonchalantly stood by Laura, ready to catch her, just in case.

  A minute later, Ashley swallowed, and I pulled the trach tube out of her mouth. She lifted her head an inch off the floor before slamming it back into the blankets. With her eyes open
but unfocused, and her tongue hanging from the side of her mouth, she looked like a college kid on Sunday morning.

  “Laura, come over here and sit with Ashley,” I instructed. “Right now, the room is spinning for her. I think your presence will reassure her.” Laura sat on the floor and leaned against the wall. Five seconds later, Ashley’s nostrils quivered. She thumped her tail twice and then put her head in Laura’s lap. Laura burst into tears again; this time, they were tears of relief. She held Ashley in her arms and whispered, “I will never let this happen to you again.”

  While Ashley recovered, I moved over to the incubator. Inside, the pups formed one large wiggling pile of blond fur. With their eyes sealed shut and their ears flat against their skulls, these babies explored the world with their mouths. The ones on the outside of the pile struggled to the center in hopes of finding food. They were hungry. One pup sucked another’s paw.

  One by one, I examined each pup, checking for abnormalities like a cleft palate, umbilical hernia or a heart murmur. The smallest puppy was a feisty little girl. When I opened her mouth, she tried to wriggle away. When I placed my stethoscope on her chest, soft grunts filled my ears. Evidently, my examination was not part of her plan for the first minutes of life. She wanted to eat and wasn’t going to rest until she found food. I filled a syringe with warm puppy milk replacer and prepared to feed the little darling. I always tube feed pups their first meal just in case the mom doesn’t feel like nursing right away.

  “Open up,” I said to her softly. I attached a catheter to the end of the syringe, applied lubrication and slid it down the pup’s throat, right into her stomach. As warm milk filled her up, the pup relaxed in my hand. When I pulled out the catheter, she opened her mouth in a huge puppy yawn.

  “OK, it’s time to introduce Ashley to her puppies,” I announced. I gave the little girl to Laura, who showed it to Ashley. As Ashley sniffed the baby, deep wrinkles appeared in her forehead. She paused for several seconds, then went back for another sniff. After the second one, she vigorously licked the pup’s face.