“We’re going to take a break in the truck,” he said walking by without making eye contact. Steve and I watched him go without saying a word. We waited a few minutes in back before heading up to the window in the children’s playroom. Gordon sat in the driver’s seat with Mariposa in his lap. She stood on her hind legs with her front feet on the steering wheel, watching the squirrels under the oak tree.
“That lap dog is the perfect medicine for dad,” I said. “I’m sure his blood pressure is back to normal.” We watched dad bite a pastry, followed by a swig of coffee. “On the other hand, his blood sugar is probably sky high.”
Chapter 14
Head Tilt
“Ready for a busy day?” Steve asked as we drove to the clinic. Unlike last week, he decided to come in right away to help with appointments.
“Not really,” I replied. “You know how I feel about Saturdays, especially gray ones like today.” Clouds hung low in the sky, giving a gloomy cast to the day. Last week, Indian summer gave Minnesotans a small reprieve with bright sunshine and perfect temperatures for pumpkin hunting and trick or treating. Now the wind blew the colorful leaves off the trees, leaving barren branches behind. Winter came with November even though the official start wasn’t until December.
“Actually, the schedule didn’t look too bad,” Steve said. “As long as we don’t get any emergencies, we should be done by 1.”
“And that’s the big if. I hope you didn’t jinx us.”
The day started with a blood draw on Blackie, a cat with hyperthyroidism. Over the past year, Allie and I had become experts on working with this cantankerous feline. We learned that Blackie is a bit of a control freak. Actually he’s a huge control freak.
We developed a system that allowed us to draw blood without donating any ourselves. First, we placed his carrier on the floor in the cat examination room with the door open and a treat on the table. After exploring the room, Blackie jumped onto the table for the treat, then laid on his side to watch the angelfish in the aquarium. While he was amused, Allie held off the vein on his back leg while I drew. Blackie thumped his long skinny tail but never tried to bite. With cats, sometimes less is more.
After Blackie, we had another repeat customer on the schedule, Precious Allen. The first time I saw Precious, a Lhasa apso, I couldn’t touch her without anesthetizing her. On the second visit, I had to vaccinate her through a quilt. Maybe the third time would be the charm. I felt my hand tremble as I opened the door to the dog room.
“Good morning, Dr. Nelson,” Ed Allen said with a huge smile on his face. Precious laid on the table wearing a green collar with a gold ‘G’ charm. A gold hair clip kept her bangs out of her big brown eyes. Her face and body were perfectly groomed, no hair out of place. She didn’t even have the tear stains on the corners of her eyes like most Lhasas.
“Good morning, Ed. Are you a Packer fan?”
“No, my stepson is,” he said. “I got married two months ago.”
“Congratulations,” I said, keeping my distance from Precious. “And what does Precious think of the additions to the family?”
“That’s what I have been dying to tell you. Precious is a good girl now. No more growling or biting.”
“Really,” I said through the corner of my mouth, eyebrows raised. “Precious a good girl, hmmm.”
“My stepson, Josh, is a natural with dogs. The first time she growled at him, Josh flipped her on her back and held her until she gave up,” he said.
“That’s called an alpha roll, but it must be done with great care. I’ve heard of dogs biting people in the face during an alpha roll,” I told him.
“She sleeps on his bed, walks him to the bus stop every day and waits by the door for him to come home from school,” he continued, ignoring my cautionary tale. “He even taught her some tricks. Watch this,” he boasted. Ed pulled a treat out of his pocket and showed it to Precious. “Speak!”
“Woof, woof,” she barked. Ed handed her the biscuit and rubbed her head, messing up the ponytail. She cleaned up the crumbs with her tail wagging.
“Wow, I’m impressed,” I said, keeping my hands at my sides and avoiding eye contact.
“You can pet her, Dr. Nelson,” Ed said encouragingly. “She won’t bite.”
Slowly I advanced my hand toward her rear end, as far away from her teeth as possible. I gently touched the area above her tail while looking at her face. Precious continued to lick the table without responding. I started scratching the area with a little more pressure. Precious raised her head, closed her eyes and moaned.
“You got the good spot, Dr. Nelson. She loves that,” Ed said.
Slowly, I moved my hand up her back, feeling her spine as I went. Her muscles felt relaxed, nothing like the last time. Her breathing remained slow and deep. Now for the big test, eye contact.
“Precious,” I called. “Look at me, Precious.” She opened her eyes when she heard her name. Our eyes connected for two seconds; then she looked away. “Wow, I’m impressed. Precious has finally lived up to her name.”
Ed beamed with pride and joy.
While Precious stood on the table, I examined her entire body without risking my health. Young Josh kept her coat in perfect shape by brushing her every night after dinner. He also brushed her teeth because he hated smelling her breath in bed.
“She looks great, Ed,” I announced. “I’ll just slip this Bordetella vaccine up her nose, and we’re done.” I placed my left hand around Precious’ muzzle, pointed her nose at the ceiling and dripped the clear liquid into her nostrils. Precious snorted and licked her nose but did not growl.
“Good girl, good girl.” I praised her and pulled a cookie out of my pocket. “Tell Josh to keep up the good work. I really like the new version of Precious.”
Ed nodded.
“And bring him with for her next visit. I would love to meet him even though he is a Packer backer.”
The folder slot outside the cat room was empty when I finished with Precious. I hurried over to a stack of records on my desk, eager to check for lab results. Yesterday, Snowflake returned for another blood draw. In the past week, he had gained half a pound with no vomiting. Allie thought he looked less jaundiced, but I wasn’t as sure. His skin still had a yellow cast, especially around his eyes. I flipped through charts until I spotted “Snowflake Olson” on the top of a lab sheet. My eyes went right to the bilirubin. It was 3.5, down from 4.5 last week. His liver enzymes were better too. I threw my arms in the air, scaring Genny. She jumped off the desk chair for the safety of the closet.
“Krissy, what are you doing?” Steve asked from the doorway. He held a record and a notepad.
“Celebrating good news about Snowflake! I can’t wait to call Margaret and Scott.”
“That will have to wait,” he informed me. “There’s a client up front who wants to talk to you.” He paused to get my attention. “And I just had a kennel employee ask to see Trudy.”
I froze, waiting to hear more.
“I know; it set off alarm bells for me as well,” he added.
The previous spring, Canine Officer Trudy of the United States Customs Service had ingested a large amount of rat bait and almost died. It was one of the worst cases I had ever treated, requiring months of vitamin K1 therapy to clot her blood. Since Trudy’s duties include warehouse searches for drugs, her handler was initially suspected for improper supervision. As her treatment unfolded and other customs dogs were poisoned along the border, the investigation shifted away from him.
“When I told her Trudy wasn’t here, she argued with me,” Steve continued. “She said she saw Trudy come in the clinic, and she demanded to see her.” He paused. “She seemed desperate to see her.”
“Why did she want to see Trudy?”
“She said she used to take care of Trudy and wanted to say hi. She showed me a bag of treats for Trudy.”
“What was her name?” I asked.
“I don’t know her name, and she wasn’t wearing a badge, but I re
cognized her,” he replied. “She’s the stocky brunette that we see outside smoking all the time. The one with the heart patch on the knee of her jeans.”
“Oh, I know the one you’re talking about. Her name is Sherry.”
“It could be innocent,” Steve said. He paused. “I mean, maybe she misses Trudy. But the way she acted made me suspicious, especially when she started arguing with me.”
“I agree. I think we should let Frank know right away. Is that Trudy’s record?”
Steve nodded. “I’ll call while you see the client up front.” He pointed toward the lobby. “Remember?”
“I do now, Sweets!” I kissed his cheek on the way out of the office.
In the lobby, I recognized Melanie Baylor sitting in the chair she always used by the playroom. I expected to see a golden retriever waiting with her. Instead, a black Labrador laid on the floor at her feet. The dog held her head twisted to the left in an abnormal position.
“Hello, Melanie,” I said as I walked around the counter. “Who is this?”
“This is Dolly. She belongs to my friends, Jenna and Thomas Morris. They are away on vacation and didn’t want to leave her in a kennel. I just picked her up from their house.”
“How long has Dolly had an ear problem?” I asked.
“She had a stroke a year ago, Dr. Nelson. No ear problems.”
“Strokes are very rare in dogs because they have a different circulatory system than humans. If it occurs, it usually causes death,” I explained. “I think Dolly has a middle ear problem that’s messing up her balance.”
“No, Jenna’s vet diagnosed her. He said the head tilt was from the stroke,” Melanie insisted.
“Well, I think her vet was wrong.” I stuck to my first impression. “But we can see who’s right with a skull film.”
“If you’re right, is there a treatment for her condition?”
“Yes, it’s called a total ablation.”
Melanie looked at me like I was speaking another language.
“Let me explain. I think Dolly has an infection in her middle ear, which is called the tympanic bulla.” I bent down and pointed at an area below the opening to her left ear. “During the surgery, I remove the entire ear canal, then make an incision here to get into the middle ear. I puncture the bone, flush out all the infection and remove the lining of the bulla. After the procedure, she’ll be deaf in that ear but pain free.” I lifted Dolly’s ear flap to finish the explanation. “The ear flap stays so she’ll look normal.” I let her ear flop down on her head. “She’ll have to stay in the hospital until I can pull the drain.”
Melanie reached down and petted Dolly’s head. The gentle dog looked at her for a minute before standing to rest her head in Melanie’s lap. Her tail wagged in large arcs. Two minutes later, she sighed and sunk to the floor again.
“A middle ear problem,” she repeated. “Are you sure?”
“A sure as I can be without an X-ray. I know the surgery will make her feel better, but I don’t know if the head tilt will ever go away.”
“I’ll tell Jenna and Thomas about this when we they get home.” She stood to go, then abruptly turned around. “I almost forgot why I came in here.” She reached inside her purse and pulled out a bag containing feces. “Rusty has diarrhea again, and I’m not taking any chances.” She handed me the bag.
I used two fingers to hold it by the tip. I held it as far away from my body as possible while I walked it to the back.
“Please call me as soon as you get the results,” she called after me.
I nodded but kept walking to the lab area.
I looked around the room for Allie but didn’t see her anywhere. “Bummer,” I said out loud. I snapped a piece of paper towel from the roll, placed it on the counter and set the bag on top of it. I started to open the bag before remembering I lacked a key piece of equipment…gloves. I put on a pair of disposable gloves, then tore open the bag. A horrible odor drifted into my nose, making my eyes water. I blinked away the tears to get a sample for examination.
“Kris, Al called and…” Allie stopped in midsentence. “What is that smell?”
“Rusty’s fecal sample.” I quickly dumped the bag in the garbage and tied it closed. “Melanie dropped it off.”
“Wow,” Allie replied while she waved her hand back and forth under her nose. “That is nasty!” She covered her nose and mouth with her hand. “Al said Guacamole is leaving the bandage alone, taking her supplements and eating well.” She paused to sniffle. “But she doesn’t like being kept in a small cage until her leg heals. He’s worried that she’s getting cage nose from trying to escape. The tip of her nose is red and raw from rubbing on the sides of the cage.”
“Where is he keeping the new cage? On the floor or a table?”
“On the floor by a heat vent,” she replied.
“That might be the problem,” I mused. “Tell him to get her cage off the floor as high as possible.” Allie nodded and headed up to the reception desk to use a phone — out of the smell zone. She passed Steve on her way.
“Did you get hold of Frank?” I asked my husband.
“Yes.” He took a deep breath. “He remembers Sherry very well. He said she was always asking him questions about his job and working with Trudy. He didn’t think much of it at the time but now… Now, he’s wondering if he missed something.”
“Hard to say,” I responded. “But that does sound a little suspicious.”
“He’ll transmit the information to his supervisor and go from there.”
“You didn’t tell her where Trudy’s being boarded?”
Steve narrowed his eyes, shaking his head.
“Sorry, I just wanted to make sure nothing else happens to her.”
“So what’s next?” I asked
“How about lunch after you recheck Goliath?” Steve asked. “He is your final appointment.” I stared at him to see if he was joking. The wall clock read 12:30. We couldn’t possibly be done already.
“You can pick the restaurant,” he offered.
With Steve’s offer in mind, I completed Goliath’s examination in record time. His range of motion was about 80 percent of normal, which was excellent. I complemented Bob on his care and added short walks to Goliath’s physical therapy. I instructed him to slowly increase the length of the walks as the muscles strengthened. Goliath walked out of the clinic using his leg well.
I followed them to the lobby to check the appointment book, still not believing Steve. We never get out of the clinic on time on Saturday.
Allie caught me behind the counter. “He’s right,” she said. “We’re done with appointments. And I’ve taken care of all of the callbacks. I even called to check on the blind kitten.”
“How is he doing?”
“Great. Sonya said he is going to be a big cat. She seems surprised by how well he is doing.”
“Really,” I said. “What about Snowflake?”
“Scott called while you were in with Goliath,” Allie answered. “I gave him the blood results and told them to keep up the good work. Their only concern is that Snowflake isn’t eating yet. They’re still feeding him via the tube.”
“I don’t expect him to eat for at least another week.”
“I know, but they think he’s not eating because of the tube,” Allie said. “I told them that animals will eat with a tube in place and that we wouldn’t pull it until he was eating on his own for five days.” She pulled the ends of her ponytail to push the scrunchie closer to her head. “I’m not sure they believed me.”
Steve entered the lobby with a mischievous smile on his face. He pointed at his watch.
“OK, you were right,” I said. “I guess Saturdays aren’t so bad after all.”
Chapter 15
Misdiagnosis
In the first run, Dolly, the medium-sized black Lab, slept on a hunter green dog bed covered with faux sheepskin. She was on her side with her head corkscrewed to the left. The skin on her face formed deep furrows over her e
yes. The muscles in her neck formed tight bands under her dull coat. Her condition seemed even worse than when I first met her two-and a-half weeks ago.
“Dolly,” I called as I swung open the gate to her run. “Dolly, it’s time to wake up. Today we’re going to take care of that pain. Hump day is all about fixing your ear.” Dolly opened her eyes, wagged her tail and gathered her legs under her body to stand up. Slowly, she rocked her body into a standing position. With her head hung low and pointing to the left, she shuffled over to me. The slippery kennel floors are tough for a dog with a balance problem. Poor Dolly wasn’t sure which way was up or down.
“Good girl, Dolly,” I praised her for coming to me. She stood behind the block threshold of the run, her tail wagging. “I’ll help you out.” I slipped a lead over her head, bent down and lifted the front of her body over the threshold. When I placed her feet on the ground, they slipped out from under her. I caught her just before her chin hit the floor.
“Allie, Kim,” I called out. “I need a little help in here.”
Allie appeared in the doorway wearing her hot pink scrubs.
“I had to help her into the run, too,” she said. She held Dolly’s front half while I lifted her back legs over. When all four of her feet were firmly planted on the floor, Dolly licked Allie’s arm. “I think she’s is saying thank you,” she observed.
“Or begging for a carry. Let’s put her up on the table.” Allie put her arms around Dolly’s chest, and I did the same with her hips. Dolly panicked when we picked her up. The 64-pound hunting dog’s legs flailed wildly in the air.
“Hang on,” I yelled as we hurried to the table. In one fluid motion, we placed Dolly on the table, then leaned our bodies over her until she calmed down. After a minute, she laid quietly under us, wagging her tail again. Strings of saliva hung from her mouth and made a puddle on the table by her face.
“Why is she doing that?” Allie asked as we stood up but kept our hands on Dolly.
Coated With Fur: A Blind Cat's Love Page 15