Rich looked at me suspiciously.
“With the sex drive gone, Ivan will be able to focus all of his attention on you instead of the pretty female sitting next to him. I’ve neutered many dogs to stop aggression, and it does nothing unless the behavior is related to breeding.”
“No, I’m not going to neuter him,” Rich said firmly. He looked at me without blinking. “I think he has a bladder infection.”
“I hope you’re right,” I responded. Rich continued to stroke Ivan’s head with a glazed look. All the color had washed out of his normally rosy cheeks.
“I would like to take an X-ray of his abdomen to check the size of his prostate as well as send samples of his urine and blood to the lab. Is that OK?”
Rich nodded.
“I’ll get everything set up and then be back to get you.”
Back in the kennel, I found Kim making a toy for Radar out of a syringe case. The large metal dog crate rested in the last run with a litter box at the far end and a cat bed near the door. Kim used medical tape to suspend the case at the perfect height for Radar. She also placed two of Genny’s rubber balls inside. Radar stood in the litter pan, sniffing the clay litter. He pawed and sniffed, then pawed some more.
“Why is he doing that?” Kim asked.
“Because he’s never felt real litter before. Sonya used kernels of field corn to save money.”
Kim squinted and wrinkled her nose.
“Would you mind helping me with Ivan?” I asked her.
With Rich’s help, Kim and I positioned Ivan on the X-ray table for a film. Rich commanded him to stay, then left before we took the shot. When we finished, Rich returned and helped us roll Ivan onto his back. One more “stay!” and the process was over. While the films went through the processor, Kim and Rich took Ivan outside to collect a urine sample. By the time they returned, the films hung on the light box.
“What’s the verdict?” Rich asked.
“See this?” I pointed at a gray round shadow on the film next to Ivan’s pelvis.
Rich nodded.
“This is Ivan’s prostate. It’s bigger than I would expect for a dog of his age.”
“Does that mean it’s infected?” Rich asked.
“Maybe. Or that he produces a ton of testosterone.” I winked at Rich. The color returned to his face. “We’ll have to wait and see what we find in the lab work.” I flipped off the light box. “Until then, watch him closely for anymore discharge.”
“Aren’t you going to put him on an antibiotic?” he asked.
“Not until we know if he has an infection. I don’t want to create bacterial resistance or mess up the normal flora that live in his gastrointestinal tract.”
Rich did not make eye contact with me.
“I’ll have the results tomorrow morning.”
Rich stared silently at Ivan. He took deep breaths that made his entire chest move. I noticed a slight tremor in his hands.
“What is it, Rich?” I asked.
He looked up at me with eyes filled with concern. “When Ivan was a puppy, he had a really high white blood cell count,” he said. “The vet thought he might have leukemia. She did all kinds of tests, including a bone marrow sample.” He stopped to pet Ivan. “Everything was normal, but…” He paused to clear his throat. “But she told me it was just a matter of time before he developed full-blown lymphoma or leukemia.” His voice cracked as he asked, “Do you think he has it?”
“No,” I answered.
Rich stared at me, unsure if he should believe me.
“You don’t think this is ‘cancer’.” He whispered the word.
“No,” I repeated in a loud voice. “No, I do not. Listen Rich, I’ve seen elevated white counts in many large-breed pups. It’s especially common in males. None of them has gone on to develop cancer.”
Rich stood a little taller, and his breathing eased a little.
“When I was an intern, parvovirus was a big problem in Rottweilers. The rumor spread that a new strain of the virus caused the death of several dogs in Pennsylvania. Clients came in asking me to revaccinate their dogs with the ‘new parvo’ vaccine.” I paused. “Turns out it was the same old virus, but the dogs were immuno-compromised.”
“But what does this have to do with Ivan?” Rich asked impatiently.
“Because of the parvo scare, lots of breeders wanted blood work done on their pups,” I continued without acknowledging his comment. “I noticed a lot of high white counts, especially in the large males. These were also the pups that caught every virus that came along…until they turned two.” I smiled. “Then their white counts returned to normal, and they stopped getting sick. I think that it takes longer for the immune system of large-breed pups to mature.”
I looked at Ivan and petted his head. “Ivan doesn’t have leukemia. In my professional opinion, his immune system was struggling to keep up with his body.”
The muscles in Rich’s jaw moved as he contemplated my words. “You know, you could be right,” he said. “Ivan was sick a lot as a pup. It seems like I was constantly running him in,” he paused. “But then it stopped about the time he turned two.” Rich beamed with relief. The emotional burden that had weighed him down for years vaporized.
“But,” I cautioned. “If this is prostatic disease, we might need to neuter him. I’ll try everything else first, but I want you to promise me you’ll do what is best for Ivan.”
“Absolutely,” Rich replied. “If nothing else works, I will consider it.” He zipped up his brown leather jacket. Ivan sprang to his feet, knowing this sign by heart. “Please call me as soon as you get the results.” Ivan heeled by Rich’s left side as he left the treatment room.
The next morning, Allie handed me several sheets of paper and pointed at the phone. “You promised to call Rich right away,” she reminded me.
“I will as soon as I take off my coat,” I replied.
She put out her hands to take my black wool coat and bag.
“What? Don’t you trust me?”
“I know you,” she responded. “I don’t want you to get involved in another case and forget to call Rich. The Harrises are such a nice couple, and they love their dogs so much.” She paused to tuck a stray piece of hair behind her hear. “I don’t want them to worry any longer than necessary.”
The lab work was unremarkable, a term my mentors used to describe results that didn’t make a diagnosis possible. Ivan’s white and red blood cell counts were within normal limits, no signs of infection or anemia. His urine was normal as well, although it was a bit concentrated for my liking. I picked up the phone.
“Well, Rich, Ivan’s lab work looks great, no signs of infection,” I reported.
“But I found a little more of the bloody fluid this morning on Ivan’s bed,” he replied.
“I thought Ivan slept in bed with you two.”
“Linda kicked him out last night because he had really bad gas,” Rich said. He could barely finish his sentence as he laughed. “I have to admit, it was really bad.” He laughed some more.
“What did you feed him?”
“Nothing,” Rich replied, sounding like a child caught in the act. “Just a corner of my sandwich. We went through the Burger King drive-through after we left the clinic.”
“Rich,” I started, but before I could finish my sentence, he interrupted me.
“So what’s next?” he replied trying to change the subject.
“We wait for the culture results of Ivan’s urine. The final report should be back next week, after New Year’s.”
“What if nothing grows on the culture?” Rich probed. “Will you put him on antibiotics then?”
“We will culture his semen,” I explained.
“How will you do that?” Rich asked. “I mean, he’s never bred a female.”
“Like males of all species, I’m sure he will figure it out,” I replied, not offering any details.
“No, I’m serious; how do you do it?”
“Goodbye, Rich
. I’ll call you as soon as the culture results come in.” I hung up the phone, ignoring his question.
A week later, Rich would have his question answered. Nothing grew on the culture of Ivan’s urine, which is exactly what I expected. Ivan pranced into the clinic with no idea of what was to come. Rich followed with a sheepish grin.
Kim locked Genny in the office and closed the other doors before bringing Ivan and Rich into the pharmacy/lab room. The carpeted floor was great for lameness exams and breeding. After a quick physical, I knelt by Ivan’s side and began to massage his penis through the prepuce. When it doubled in size, Kim handed me the artificial vagina with a test tube attached to one end. I pushed back his prepuce, slipped the device over his penis and continued to rub.
A minute ticked by, followed by another and another, without any action. I switched between my right and left hand as fatigue set in. Ivan stared into space with a dopey look on his face, his eyes half closed. If I stopped rubbing for more than a few seconds, he opened his eyes and turned to look at me. I rubbed and rubbed and rubbed without any results to show for my effort. After 20 minutes, my legs ached from the cramped position. I stood up to stretch, still holding the artificial vagina. Ivan circled around me, begging for more.
“Wish your dog wasn’t so shy, Rich,” I commented. “I never expected this from Ivan.”
“Hey,” Rich replied, blushing. His entire face and neck were red. “Give him a break. He’s never done this before.”
“Yes, I’m painfully aware of that,” I replied. I tossed the artificial vagina on the counter. “These first-timers are a killer. Since he was a pup, he’s been told ‘no, no, no.’” I leaned onto one leg and then the other, trying to ease the tight muscles. “Now, I’m saying ‘yes,’ and he’s confused.”
“So what can we do?” Rich asked, still blushing.
“Keep trying. Eventually, he’ll relax, and I’ll get a sample.”
“More dates with Dr. Nelson,” Rich quipped.
Kim burst out laughing.
“Yes, by the time we’re finished, Ivan will love coming to the clinic,” I said with a huge smile on my face.
Rich clipped a leash to Ivan’s collar and headed for the door. Before he opened it, he looked back and said, “This will be our little secret, Dr. Nelson. We won’t tell Steve that you’re cheating on him with Ivan.”
Four days later, I saw Ivan’s name on the book again with the word “collection” behind it. During the second try, two days ago, Ivan seemed to get close. He thrust his hips forward once, then shut down immediately. He kept his head down with eyes averted in a submissive gesture like he was asking for forgiveness for doing something wrong. I showered him with praise for getting so close but he seemed to ignore my words. He never even sat on my foot.
Rich entered the clinic alone, pulled a magazine out of the rack on the wall and took a seat by the window.
“Hi, Rich,” Kim said from behind the counter. She leaned over it to view the floor below. “Where’s Ivan?”
“He’s in the van,” Rich replied. “Let me know when Dr. Nelson is ready, and I’ll go get him.”
“I’m ready,” I announced behind Kim. She jumped when she heard my voice. My rubber-soled clinic shoes made little noise on the floor. Rich sprang to his feet and headed outside. Two minutes later, Ivan walked into the clinic with a bouquet of red roses in his mouth.
Kim and I cracked up. Ivan stopped on the entry rug, shifting his eyes from Rich to Kim and me, then back to Rich. After a minute, he dropped the flowers on the rug, then smacked his lips.
“Ivan,” Rich said in an annoyed tone of voice. He pointed at the flowers, then at me. Ivan picked up the bouquet and walked it over to me.
“Thank you, Ivan,” I said, taking the flowers from him. He trotted back to Rich, looking relieved. We headed back into the pharmacy/lab room, hoping that the third time really would be the charm.
I knelt beside Ivan to work my magic. I tried fast, slow, soft, firm and everything else I could think of with the same result — no semen. I slowly stood up, wondering what else I could do for Ivan.
“Well, this is frustrating.” I stared at Ivan.
“Maybe you need more practice,” Rich said mischievously. “Or you should be wearing something less clinical. Perhaps your lab coat is a turnoff.”
“Or he needs mood music,” Kim added. “I could dim the lights.”
I ignored their remarks, trying to think.
“Kim, would you bring Cookie up front please?” I asked.
“Who’s Cookie?” Rich asked.
“Hopefully, the girl of Ivan’s dreams.” Thirty seconds later, Kim led a gorgeous Rottweiler into the room. Her owner wanted to know when Cookie ovulated in preparation for breeding on the next cycle. From my tests, I knew that she, too, was most ready.
“Ivan, I would like you to meet Cookie,” I said. Kim led Cookie to Ivan and let them sniff each other. She tugged on his ear and then spun around, exposing her rear end. Ivan looked at Rich, not knowing what to do. The Doberman quivered all over.
“Go ahead, Ivan,” Rich encouraged. Ivan remained frozen in place. Cookie backed up closer to Ivan until her rear end was right under his nose. Ivan’s eyes opened wide, showing the white sclera. “Geez, this is downright embarrassing,” Rich lamented. Finally Ivan sniffed Cookie’s rear end, raised his lip to drink in her scent, then sniffed some more. I maneuvered into position by his side and placed the artificial vagina on him. We waited and waited and waited. Twenty minutes later, I stood up with nothing in the test tube.
“So what’s next, Dr. Nelson?” Rich asked. “Is there any way to force him?”
“With cattle, my professor taught us to use a rectal probe with electrical stimulation to get a sample,” I replied.
Rich winced.
“I don’t know of anything like that for dogs,” I noted.
“I found more red spots on the floor,” Rich informed me. “What can we do for him if we don’t get a sample?”
“We’ll conduct a therapeutic trial with antibiotics,” I said. “But it will be an educated guess.” I smiled. “I prefer not to guess.”
“Understood,” Rich said. “I’ll see you Saturday.”
“Thanks for the flowers. I’ll tell Steve they’re from my secret admirer.”
Saturday morning, Rich entered the clinic with Ivan for their usual noon appointment. The lobby was packed with people and animals; all the chairs were full. Rich stood just inside the doorway, against the wall, with Ivan sitting beside him.
Paula Anderson sat in Rich’s favorite chair by the window. Sadie, her cocker spaniel, sat at her feet watching the other animals, not sure if she wanted to meet them or not.
Ivan glanced around the room, checking out a blue carrier containing a Persian cat. When the fluffy cat saw a black nose appear next to the carrier, he hissed. Ivan looked the opposite direction and spotted Sadie. The blond babe batted her eyelashes a few times before hiding under Paula’s chair. Ivan jumped to his feet, wagging his tail.
“Sitz,” Rich ordered. Ivan’s rear end sank to the floor, ears drooping. He looked up at Rich, then back at Sadie. She laid on the floor, peeking at Ivan from behind Paula’s legs. Ivan shifted his weight back and forth on his front feet, then sank to the ground with a thud. He stretched his head and neck toward Sadie with a playful look on his face.
After five minutes of eye contact, Sadie crawled out from under the chair and sat in front of Paula. The curly-coated dog with amazing eyelashes wiggled her stumpy tail even faster than Ivan.
“Urrrrr,” Ivan groaned with pleasure. Rich looked down at Ivan, perplexed by his dog’s behavior. Ivan spread his ears to the side and plopped his head on his front legs. He sighed loudly.
Sadie inched forward, raised her left front leg and pawed the air twice. What a flirt!
Ivan couldn’t stand it anymore. When Rich wasn’t looking, he crawled toward the girl of his dreams. He moved a few inches, froze for a minute, then inched forward agai
n. Sadie batted her eyes to encourage the tall, dark and handsome stranger. The plan worked well until Ivan hit the end of his leash. Rich looked down to find Ivan in the middle of the entryway, three feet from Sadie.
“Ivan, come,” he ordered.
Ivan ducked his head and flattened his ears sheepishly but did not obey. He remained three agonizing feet from Sadie.
“Come,” Rich repeated.
Ivan rolled on his side to expose his belly but did not move. “What the…” Rich mumbled. He was about to pull Ivan back when he noticed Sadie posing by her owner. Her rhinestone collar flashed shimmers of light in all directions. Sadie laid down on the floor, copying Ivan. Now their noses were only two feet apart.
“A cocker spaniel with purple bows on her ears and a rhinestone collar,” Rich whispered. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
Ivan sighed loudly, staring at Sadie.
Rich shook his head in disgust. “I guess there’s no understanding love,” he muttered. He cleared his throat.
“Excuse me, ma’am,” he said. Paula put down her book, not sure who was speaking to her. “Hello, I’m Rich Harris, and this is my dog, Ivan.” Paula noticed the large Doberman lying close to her dog for the first time. She bent down, grabbed Sadie and placed her in her lap. Ivan sat up and moaned.
“Ma’am, Dr. Nelson thinks my dog may have a problem with his prostate. To diagnose it, we need a semen sample from Ivan,” he continued.
At the word “semen,” Paula hugged Sadie even tighter.
“Unfortunately, nothing has worked to get the sample. We’ve tried three times with no luck.” He stopped to take a big breath. “Since my dog seems to have a thing for your dog, would it be OK if he sniffed her a little to…” He paused. His face turned bright red. “I can’t believe I’m asking a total stranger this…you know, to get things started.”
Paula shot him a skeptical look. It melted away when she saw the goofy look on Ivan’s face. She could feel Sadie quiver on her lap.
“I guess it would be OK,” she mumbled. “I mean, Sadie is spayed so there’s no danger of puppies.” She fought to comprehend the situation. “As long as he doesn’t hurt her.”
Coated With Fur: A Blind Cat's Love Page 23