Kim held Guacamole’s body up off the table with her right front leg hanging in the air. I put a tape stirrup on the back of her leg then wrapped it with cotton. Guacamole eyed me nervously. I placed the makeshift splint along the outside of her leg and wrapped it in place with Kling.
“What color should we use for the outer wrap?” I asked Kim.
“Fluorescent green to match her body. There’s one in the drawer.”
I opened the drawer and found a roll of bright green Vetrap still in its plastic wrapper. I removed the wrapper and held it up to Guacamole. It matched her perfectly. I wrapped the Vetrap around the bandage and finished by writing the date on it with a black Sharpie. Guacamole continued to stare at the bandage. She wiggled her leg a little and tried to lick the bandage.
“What’s next for our green princess?” Kim asked.
“Let’s give her a break to warm up; then we’ll tube feed her in an hour,” I said. “And hang a thermometer in her basking area. I want to make sure she’s warm enough.”
Kim nodded with a big smile on her face. She lifted Guacamole’s bandaged leg and waved it three times in the air.
“Don’t be late for our date, Dr. Nelson,” she quipped. I smirked and headed up front. At the door to the treatment room, I paused to look back at Kim. She cradled Guacamole against her chest and rubbed her head. I could see her lips moving but couldn’t hear what she was saying. I think Kim was falling in love with reptiles.
Chapter 12
Snowflake the Cat
“Hello, Gordy,” Allie called out as my father walked into the clinic with Peeper in his arms. Bright morning sunlight streamed through the window, warming the lobby. “Is Peeper ready for a dental?”
“Not really,” Gordy replied. He frowned and hugged Peeper even tighter.
“Well, we’re ready for her.” She smiled and said, “Follow me.”
On the way to the treatment room, the trio stopped at the scale for an accurate weight. The little terrier mix tipped the scales at 19 pounds, half a pound less than last spring. Spending the summer at my parent’s farm took care of the extra weight she put on every winter in Florida. Peeper loved to hunt for mice, squirrels and chipmunks. She would venture out every morning with Louisa, the Lab mix, trailing behind. When Peeper found a rodent hole, she’d step back and let Louisa do the digging. She learned not to stand behind Louisa to avoid getting hit in the face with dirt. The two gave Oscar and Felix a run for the title of “Odd Couple.”
When they reached the treatment room, Allie instructed my father to place Peeper on the table. While she set up for an IV catheter, he looked around the room. Peeper leaned into his side, away from Allie. Her wiry white fur stuck to his navy blue golf shirt.
“What’s in the cage?” he asked.
“It’s an iguana with a broken leg,” Allie said. Gordy picked Peeper up and walked over to the cage for a closer look. “Kris just finished putting a splint on her.”
“I don’t think she likes it,” he replied.
Allie joined Gordy and noticed a piece of green Vetrap lying at one end of the cage. At the other end, Guacamole worked feverously to remove the rest of the bandage. A piece of cotton laid by her side.
“Guacamole,” Allie exclaimed. “Bad girl!” Peeper tried to bury her head in Gordy’s chest, fearing she had done something wrong. Allie petted her for reassurance. She got another piece of Vetrap, pink this time, and repaired the bandage with an extra layer around the top. Dad held the naughty lizard while Peeper stood beside him. Guacamole fascinated the dog. She stood on her back legs trying to get a better look at this unusual creature.
“I see Allie is putting you to work,” I said as I came in the room. I squeezed my dad’s shoulder and petted Peeper’s head. “What are you two doing?”
“Guacamole ripped the outer layer of her bandage,” Allie explained. “I replaced it with an extra layer of tape.” After inspecting her work one last time, she took Guacamole from dad’s hand and put her back in the cage. “Now leave that bandage alone,” she ordered.
With the bandage crisis remedied, Allie went back to preparing Peeper for her periodontal treatment. While dad held the reluctant patient on the table, Allie placed an IV catheter in Peeper’s leg. Even with a tranquilizer on board, she still knew this was not a good situation. Her entire body shook as she nervously glanced at Allie.
“We’re ready, Kris,” Allie called when everything was assembled.
“So am I,” I responded as I walked into the room carrying a syringe. “Are you ready, Dad?” He hugged Peeper but did not respond. I reached down and drew her leg toward me.
Just as I was going to place the needle in the rubber stopper of the catheter, dad asked, “Are you sure you know what you’re doing?” It was a serious question. His face looked strangely pale.
“Dad, I’ve been doing this for five years,” I replied, suppressing a laugh. “You’ve seen me anesthetize all sorts of animals. Peeper will be fine.” Allie turned away so he would not see her giggle. Even though he saw me graduate from the University of Minnesota with the Schlotthauer award for outstanding ability in surgery, I was evidently still his little girl.
I administered the anesthetic, withdrew the needle and waited. Peeper blinked twice, yawned, then slowly sunk into dad’s arms. Allie transferred Peeper’s limp body to the table. Allie held the dog’s mouth open for me to insert a trach tube. With that in place, I connected the tube to the anesthetic machine while Allie attached the EKG.
“Beep, beep, beep,” the machine sounded with each heartbeat. Pepper’s rate and rhythm looked great. Dad hovered nearby, not sure what to do. Every 60 seconds, he placed his hand on Peeper’s chest to feel her heartbeat. Allie handed out masks to everyone to protect us from the bacteria that would be aerosolized during the procedure.
I started the procedure by probing all of Peeper’s gums, looking for periodontal pockets. I gently ran the stainless steel probe along the junction of the tooth and gums, feeling below the gum line with the tip of the instrument. On the upper left canine tooth, the tip disappeared into a small pocket on the inside of the tooth. We carried Peeper into the X-ray suite for skull films to make sure she didn’t have any root problems.
After reading the films and finding nothing abnormal, my part of the procedure was finished. Now I monitored the anesthesia while Allie cleaned and polished the teeth. Allie started on the right side of Peeper’s mouth with the ultrasonic scaler. As she moved the tip of the instrument over the teeth, the calculus fell from the crowns of the teeth. Even though the instrument sprayed water on the tip to cool it down, Allie kept the tip moving all the time to prevent burning the enamel. Next, she used a motorized polisher to remove any rough edges left on the teeth. Bacteria love to attach to these. She placed a small amount of pumice in the cup and moved it across the surface of each tooth.
“OK,” she said stepping back from the table. “I’m ready for the other side.” Allie disconnected the trach tube and held Peeper’s head while I flipped her body. We made sure the head and body moved in unison. I then reconnected the tube. She repeated the same procedure on the left side. When she was done, I tackled the small periodontal pocket. Five minutes later, the procedure was completed.
“You can remove your mask now, Dad,” I told him. Peeper laid on the table, breathing oxygen through the trach tube in her mouth. A towel covered her. Allie replaced it with a warm one from the dryer. All the hair on Peeper’s head was wet from the spray. I rubbed it with a towel until it was slightly damp to the touch. Her hair stuck out in all directions like an Afro.
“Isn’t she cute?” I asked dad.
He laughed and shook his head. “You know how your mother feels about that,” he replied. “You better smooth it down again, or I’ll get in trouble for letting you do that to her.”
“Why didn’t mom come with you today?” I asked.
“Too nervous. You know how attached she is to this dog.”
Peeper, or Pepper as she was calle
d previously, lived at the farm north of my parent’s place. She grew up as an outdoor dog, spending her nights in the dairy barn with the Holstein cows. Her black and white coat mirrored them perfectly. During the winter, she refused to leave the barn because of the cold.
Two months before my college graduation, Pepper showed up at my folk’s farm. My mother Bobbe found her sleeping on the back porch with Louisa. Bobbe instantly formed a special bond with the little terrier mix. Two days later, our neighbor showed up, looking for his dog. He was shocked to find Pepper sleeping on the sofa in the family room. Bobbe watched Pepper leave in the truck with tears in her eyes.
The next morning, Bobbe was in the kitchen when she heard scratching. As soon as she opened the back door, Pepper bolted to her favorite spot on the sofa. She then made it back again in time for breakfast the next day. For the next two weeks, our neighbor came every day to retrieve his wayward dog. Finally, he gave up. Pepper became Peeper.
Peeper coughed and sputtered with the tube down her throat. I untied it and waited for her to swallow. When her Adam’s apple moved, I pulled out the tube. Peeper coughed a few times, then looked around the room with dilated pupils.
“Hello, Peeper,” I said as I picked her up and snuggled her against my body. Dad watched with a huge smile on his face. “Would you like to hold her while she recovers, Dad?’
“In a minute. I need to call your mother first.” He headed off to the phone in the pharmacy where it was quiet.
When animals or people are anesthetized, they cannot maintain their body temperature. Peeper shivered in my arms, trying to warm up. I walked over to the incubator to check on Snowflake. I wasn’t sure if it was wishful thinking, but his skin looked less jaundiced. We would know as soon as the lab faxed the results.
I glanced around the room, noting how easy it was to make a mess, especially with a dental. Allie wiped down the anesthetic machine and wheeled it back to the OR. As she passed Guacamole’s cage, she noticed a pink strip of Vetrap lying on the bottom of the cage.
“Guacamole, you are a very bad iguana.”
“What did she do Allie?” I asked.
“She chewed on her bandage again. Can we put an e-collar on her?”
“No,” I replied. “But we can put some chew tags on the bandage. I’ll help you as soon as my dad gets off the phone.”
Kim walked into the treatment room, holding a notepad in one hand with a pen behind her ear. “Good news,” she announced. “Barbara finally called back. Polly is back to normal, no vomiting and only one episode of diarrhea last night. I told her to continue the meds as directed.” She used the pen to check off the first item on the pad. “Al called back and decided to keep Guacamole here until tomorrow instead of taking her home tonight. He needs the time to revamp her cage.” She checked off another item. “Let’s see,” she studied the list. “Goliath is doing well, and Stephanie isn’t a fan of the waterless shampoo.”
“Isn’t that a surprise,” Allie dead-panned.
“The rest of this is for me.” She replaced the pen behind her ear.
“Is my dad off the phone yet?” I asked.
She nodded. “He went out to the truck to get lunch. Your mom sent food for all of us.”
“Fantastic, I’m starving.” I handed Peeper to her. “You ladies are in for a treat. My mom is a good cook. It’s not low-cal, but it tastes great.”
Allie took Guacamole out of her cage for yet another bandage change. Thankfully, the reptile had only removed the outermost layer of the bandage when Allie caught her. I cut strips from an open roll of purple Vetrap and carefully applied them. Next, I cut duct tape into small strips a quarter-inch wide by one-inch long. I folded them sticky side together, leaving the ends free and stuck them all over the wrap. When I finished, Guacamole’s bandage looked like a porcupine having a bad hair day.
By the time we finished lunch, all of the chew tabs laid on the bottom of Guacamole’s cage. The naughty girl basked under the light with her eyes closed. We weren’t sure if she was really napping or just pretending until we were gone so she could finish the job. Allie volunteered to keep an eye on her until we finished with clinics. Peeper rested in dad’s lap while fluids dripped down the IV line into her arm. Dad watched us run between rooms for each appointment. With a thermos full of coffee, he seemed to enjoy sitting while we worked.
At 3 p.m., Peeper grew restless. She tried to jump down to the floor, almost knocking over Gordy’s coffee cup. Allie removed her catheter and told Gordy to take her outside to urinate while she got Peeper’s antibiotics ready. Once outside, Peeper refused to come back inside the clinic. She froze at the doorway, wanting to get in the pickup truck instead. Gordy left her in the truck where she watched him from behind the wheel. Her tail wagged with delight.
When Gordy pulled out, a blue Camry took his place. Scott turned off the car but did not open the door. He and Margaret sat in the car talking for several minutes. Eventually, he walked around the car and opened the door for Margaret. She stood up and threw her arms around her husband. The two stood together, locked in an embrace for two minutes, before entering the clinic.
“Hi, Margaret. Hi, Scott,” Kim greeted the couple. “I’ve been waiting so you can feed Snowflake.” Margaret forced a smile in response. Her eyes were red, and the mascara on her lower lids was smudged. Scott cleared his throat.
“What did the blood results show?” he asked.
“They aren’t back yet,” Kim replied. She looked at her watch. “But they should be ready any minute.” She smiled at the distraught couple. “Snowflake’s waiting; let’s go feed him.” They reluctantly followed her in back.
Margaret and Scott stood by the table while Kim lifted Snowflake out of the incubator and handed him to Margaret. Snowflake rubbed his head on Margaret’s chin. Scott bent down to look directly into the cat’s eyes.
“He’s much less yellow today,” Kim said. Scott kissed the cat’s head but did not respond. Kim placed a clean towel on the table. “I need to warm up his food. I’ll be back in a minute.”
Margaret cradled Snowflake in her arms. Scott rubbed her back while he stroked the cat’s chin. “We’ve given him every chance, dear,” Scott whispered. “If the lab results haven’t improved, it’s time to let him go. We don’t want him to suffer.” Tears rolled down Margaret’s face and dripped onto Snowflake’s head. Snowflake started to purr.
“Great news!” Kim shouted. She ran into the room, waving a sheet of paper in the air. “His bilirubin levels are down. He’s getting better! I knew he was getting better!”
Margaret and Scott were speechless. It was as if they had already written the end of the story…without consulting Snowflake. They looked at each other in disbelief.
“I’ve got to tell Dr. Nelson. She’ll be so stoked!” Kim skipped out of the room.
Tears rolled down the couple’s faces. Scott put his arms around Margaret and Snowflake for a family bear hug. Margaret kissed Snowflake and cleared her throat. “Dear God,” she began. “Thank you for saving Snowflake,” her voice quivered with emotion. “One of your furry angels.”
“Amen,” Scott added. “Amen.”
Chapter 13
Hog Dogs
I dread Saturday clinics. I loved being a veterinarian but went to work most Saturday’s with an uneasy feeling. Trying to cram an entire day of work into four hours was challenging in and of itself. On top of all the routine vaccinations and rechecks, it seemed there was always an emergency or two. Some of them were legitimate, but many were not. The owners of the latter group knew their pet was ill but decided to wait a few days, apparently expecting a miraculous healing. When the pet’s condition deteriorated even further on Saturday, they finally called for an appointment. Too often, the motivation was to avoid higher prices at the emergency clinic. These were the appointments I dreaded.
“Dr. Nelson, come quick,” Kim called from the reception desk. “You’ve got to see this.” I grabbed my stethoscope from the desk and ran toward the fr
ont.
“What is it?” I asked, pulling on my lab coat. Kim pointed out the window to the parking lot. In front of the clinic, a man and a woman wearing black leathers trimmed with fringe parked two large motorcycles. The chrome glittered from the Harleys in the morning sun.
On the man’s bike, a large Boston terrier sat in a custom-made doggy seat between the handle bars. The dog looked like a genuine aviator. His large goggles completely covered his eyes. The woman wore a baby pack across her chest. Another smaller Boston poked his head out of the harness. This dog wore a black headband in addition to goggles. Black leather-studded collars hung around their necks. The couple walked into the building, each carrying a helmet under one arm and a dog in the other.
“Hello,” the man said as they approached the counter. “I’m Larry Burnett, and this is my wife, Beth.” He nodded in her direction. “And these are our boys, Harley and Chopper. They are here for shots.”
“Hello, I’m Dr. Nelson,” I replied. “Welcome to the Minnesota Veterinary Center. After Kim helps you with the paperwork, I’ll meet you in the exam room.” Beth and Larry placed their helmets on a lobby chair. Kim weighed Chopper and Harley while Beth filled out the clinic forms. She wrote “accountants” on the occupation line. This should be interesting, I thought.
Beth and Larry met through work at an accounting firm in Minneapolis. Larry was sitting at his desk when he saw Beth ride into the parking lot on her motorcycle. He watched as she pulled a briefcase out of the saddlebag. He formulated a plan instantly. The next day he rode his bike to work and hung out in the parking lot until Beth arrived. They made plans for a ride the next weekend and had been riding together ever since.
Harley came into the family first as a birthday present for Beth. He was a bundle of energy dressed in black and white fur. Beth hated leaving him alone when they went riding on the weekend, so she bought a baby carrier. From the first time she strapped him in, Harley was a natural. He even learned to lean with the turns. By six months of age, he outgrew the baby carrier, so Larry had a custom bed built for his bike.
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