“She’s fine. The procedure went so well that it took less time than I thought it would. Sadie is resting on her bed with a goofy look on her face. I really gorked her with pain meds.”
“I wish I could see that,” Paula said with a chuckle.
“She’ll be ready to go after 5.”
“I have to work until 5, so I’ll see you around 5:30, traffic permitting,” she replied.
I then checked the fax machine for Ivan’s lab results. The culture for aerobic bacteria did not grow anything. Now I waited for the results of two more unusual organisms, mycoplasma and ureaplasma. As I stood staring at the empty tray, the fax number rang, sending the machine into a flurry of activity. It buzzed and clicked until three sheets of paper laid in the tray, all bearing the words, “University of Minnesota Diagnostic Laboratory” at the top. I grabbed the stack, hoping for an answer.
The first page was the final result for the aerobic culture; no growth was observed, which I already knew. The next page reported that the culture for ureaplasma did not grow the organism. My heart sank when I read the results.
“Please, please let me find something I can treat,” I muttered. I flipped to the final page for mycoplasma. I scanned down to the bottom line for results. There in big bold letters was the word “positive.” Finally, I had a diagnosis for Ivan’s condition. He should start feeling better soon.
At 5:30 p.m., Paula entered the clinic wearing a red coat over her gray business suit. She stomped her feet on the entry rug to dislodge snow from her boots before proceeding to the counter.
On the other side of the L-shaped reception counter, Allie spoke with Jerry Cummings about Chiffon, the dog with an anal stricture.
“I’m glad the lactulose is working so well for her,” she said. Jerry nodded while pulling the petite Maltese off his shoulder. Chiffon liked to climb to the highest possible point to survey her environment. She did the same thing at home with Jerry’s daughter, Julie. When the health care aides entered her room, the five-pound guard dog scampered up a ramp onto her bed.
“The medicine makes her stool nice and soft. She has no problem defecating,” Jerry said.
“As Dr. Nelson explained, we are only giving her one vaccination at a time to protect her,” Allie reminded Jerry. “She needs to come back in 30 days for her rabies.” Jerry nodded again.
“This little yapper has given my daughter a reason to live,” he replied. He patted the dog’s side. “I’ll do whatever Dr. Nelson recommends to keep her healthy.” When he stopped petting her, Chiffon licked his ear. Allie handed him a new bottle of lactulose, happy the medicine worked so well for Chiffon. She made an appointment for the next vaccination before turning her attention to Paula.
“Hi, Paula, how was work?” she asked.
“Much better once Dr. Nelson called me,” Paula answered. Allie nodded, knowing how much Paula worried about her dogs. After Paula paid the bill for Sadie’s care, Allie placed a piece of paper on the counter.
“Here are the go-home instructions for Sadie,” Allie explained. “I want to highlight this one,” she said pointing at No. 1. “No chewing on anything until Dr. Nelson rechecks her mouth. We need to make sure the extraction sites are healed before she starts chewing.”
“But I feed her dry kibble,” Paula replied.
“Add water to make it soft or switch to canned food,” Allie answered. “Other than that, the care is the same as after her bloat.” Allie placed two plastic prescription bottles on the counter. “Give her the antibiotics and pain medicine as directed, feed her a small meal tonight and keep her away from stairs or other dangerous situations until tomorrow. She’s still a little wobbly.” Allie smiled at Paula before adding, “Any questions?”
“No,” Paula replied.
“OK, I’ll go get Sadie.”
Sadie sat at the front her hospital cage, watching Genny chase a syringe cap around the floor. Genny disappeared under the bank of cages when Allie arrived, afraid she’d get in trouble even though she wasn’t tormenting the hospitalized patients. Allie opened the door to Sadie’s cage with one hand while using her other to keep the dopey cocker spaniel from falling out. The fur on Sadie’s ears was still damp from the procedure. Allie placed Sadie on the table, brushed out her ears and wiped her mouth with a paper towel before bringing her up front.
“Sadie!” Paula exclaimed when Allie appeared in the lobby. Sadie wiggled her tail and squirmed in Allie’s arms.
“She’s drooling, which is normal,” Allie said as Paula took Sadie. “Here are some paper towels for the ride home.” Paula shifted Sadie to the right side of her body, exposing a pocket. Allie slid the towels inside and walked to the front door. “Remember, Dr. Nelson’s pager number is on the sheet in case you have any questions.” She held the door open.
Rich Harris ran into the clinic carrying a paper bag.
“Am I in time?” he asked Allie.
“You just made it,” Allie said and gestured toward Paula.
“Hello ma’am, I’m the owner of the Doberman who fell in love with your dog,” he said between breaths. “I can’t thank you enough for helping me out.” Paula looked at him blankly. “Thanks to Sadie, we learned that Ivan has a prostate infection.” Paula’s eyes opened wide and her face flushed. “So I wanted to give Sadie a token of my appreciation.” He pulled a box of Frosty Paws out of the bag, showed it to Paula and then shoved the box back into the bag.
“Thank you,” Paula replied with a smile. “But it really wasn’t necessary.”
“Are you kidding!” Rich exclaimed. “Dr. Nelson was striking out with Ivan until he met Sadie. Thank you so much for helping him.”
Paula stared at the floor, unsure of what to do.
“If you ever need any help with Sadie, please let me know.”
Paula nodded, gave Rich another forced smile and disappeared into the winter night with the treats tucked under her arm.
Chapter 23
Bargaining Chip
“Today is your big day, Radar,” Kim informed the kitten while sliding a bowl of food into the large dog crate. For the last two weeks, Radar had lived in this makeshift cat quarantine cage while I observed him for any signs of illness. “Quarantine is over!”
He rubbed on Kim’s hand before diving into the bowl of canned food. At almost four months of age, his body changed from a pudgy kitten into a gangly teenager. He needed a lot of calories to fuel his growth. Kim ran her hand down his back and scratched the area in front of his tail with her red fingernails. Radar lifted his rear end high off the ground, still eating. Chunks of food fell out of his mouth while he purred. “You big goof,” Kim said and closed the door.
Since picking him up from Sonya’s house, I had been planning for this day. I wanted to introduce Radar to his new home slowly to avoid overwhelming him. I also needed to protect him from the dangerous part of living at a clinic — the other animals and their people. When Genny was young, she had a close call with an Irish setter. Genny saw the dog coming and took cover before anything happened. We would need to be extremely cautious with Radar.
Kim retrieved Radar for one last examination before ending quarantine. She held him in her arms while I looked at his ears and mouth and listened to his heart. My big concern about any cat from a cattery is viral infections. Feline infectious peritonitis, feline immunodeficiency virus, feline herpes virus 1, calicivirus and feline leukemia virus scared me the most since some of these viruses can lie dormant in a cat’s body for years before causing disease. Even though all of his tests were negative, I wanted to take every precaution for Genny and the animals that entered the clinic.
“Do one more set of bloods on him, including a FELV, FIV and FIP,” I ordered. “If the results come back clean, you can move his crate into Genny’s room.” Kim nodded with a twinkle in her eye. “I’ll hold for you,” I said, taking Radar from her. He sniffed my face, then licked my cheek. He knew me from the time I spent playing with him. Several times a day, I sat in the kennel with him
on my lap, trying to ease the adjustment to life without his mom. I pressed his body against my chest with one arm and pulled his head up with the other. Kim hit his jugular vein on the first try.
“Not much longer now, buddy,” I whispered in his ear while holding off the venipuncture site. I hugged him one more time before returning him to the crate. He sat quietly, following my movements with his ears and nose. “Not much longer.”
The first appointment of the day belonged to a new client named Faith Robinson. I opened the door to find Faith sitting on the exam room chair holding the collar of her dog, Joey. The dog was tall, his head almost even with Faith’s. He was also big and sturdy. He reminded me of the dog version of a workhorse.
What kind of dog was this? Long tan hair covered most of his body, but there were a few dark brown spots with short hair. He also had a black patch over the left side of his face. I flipped open his chart to the patient information sheet. In the space after breed, Faith wrote “St. Bernard, mastiff and dalmatian.”
“Good morning,” I greeted the pair. Faith struggled to keep Joey by her side. “Allie tells me that Joey is limping on his left front leg?”
Faith nodded. “It started two months ago. He came in from playing with our other dogs, favoring his left front leg. He was back to normal the next day, so I figured he just sprained something.” She paused to take a breath. “A week later, he was lame again, but this time it didn’t get better. I took him to our vet, who diagnosed pan something or other.”
“Panosteitis,” I informed her. “It means inflammation of all the layers of the bone. It’s very common in giant-breed puppies, especially males.”
“That’s exactly what the vet said. But we’ve done everything the vet said, and he’s not getting any better. That’s why I brought him in for a second opinion.”
“He’s six months old,” I read from the chart. “That’s when panosteitis occurs, during the rapid growth phase. But large and giant-breed pups are prone to several orthopedic problems. Hopefully, the physical exam will give me a clue.”
Faith released her grip on Joey’s collar after I signaled her. Joey walked over to me, barely touching his left front leg to the floor. I held out my hand for him to sniff, but Joey had other ideas. He jumped up and planted a wet one on my cheek. I laughed as I wiped my face on the sleeve of my lab coat.
“My, you are a friendly boy.”
“Sorry, I should have warned you,” Faith said. “He licks everyone he meets.”
“In the dog world, the subordinates lick the cheek of the dominants as a greeting, so in his mind, he was being very polite,” I explained. “I just wish there was a little less saliva involved.”
After the initial greeting, Joey behaved for the entire examination. He sat without shaking his head while I peered into his ears. When I looked into his eyes, he nailed me again with that huge tongue of his. What a sweetie! I finished by palpating his right front leg, then his left. When my fingers hit the area just above his wrist, he flinched and pulled his leg from me.
“Did you find something?” Faith asked.
“I’m not sure. He’s painful right here.” I pointed at the spot on his left front leg. “He doesn’t care if I flex the joint, so I think his wrist is OK. Although it could be pano, it could also be a problem with the growth plate. I can tell you more after the X-ray.”
While Allie and Kim worked with Joey, I decided to see the next appointment, a twitching iguana. In the exam room, a child sat holding a plastic carrier. He jumped off the chair, and leaned out the other door to the lobby.
“Mom, the vet’s here,” he called. Five seconds later, a small woman appeared in the doorway.
“It’s about time,” she said, staring at me. “We’ve been waiting forever.” I placed the record on the table without acknowledging her comment. In the upper right hand corner of the physical exam sheet I read, “9:30 a.m.” scribbled in ink. My watch read 9:36. I skimmed the other side until I found the woman’s name, Nicole Morris.
“What’s your name?” I asked the child.
“Jimmy,” he whispered, staring at the cage.
“And what is your iguana’s name?”
“Iggy.” He clutched the carrier even tighter.
“Let’s put Iggy on the table so I can get a better look at him.”
“You won’t hurt him, will you?” he asked before handing over the carrier.
“Of course not. I’m going to help him.” I placed the carrier on the table.
“Not with my money, you’re not,” Nicole yelled. “My good-for-nothing ex is not going to stick me with anymore bills. He gave it to Jimmy to get back at me because he knows how I feel about lizards. Well, I’m done putting up with his shenanigans. I want you to put it to sleep.” She stared at me, her arms folded across her chest.
Jimmy frowned and slumped into the chair. He hid his eyes with his hands. His chest heaved as he sobbed. I felt utterly helpless watching his shoulders rise and fall with each breath.
“Jimmy, I’m a veterinarian,” I addressed the child. “Do you know what that means?” He let his hands fall to his lap and stared up at me through tear-filled eyes. “That means I’m an animal doctor. Would you hold Iggy for me?” He jumped out of the chair and approached the table.
“I told you to kill it,” Nicole commanded.
“I must examine Iggy before I can render my opinion, ma’am,” I said without looking at her. I lifted the plastic top off the carrier and scooped up the frightened iguana. From the size of his body, I guessed Iggy was very young. Instead of brilliant green to match the foliage, Iggy’s color reminded me of canned peas. I could feel him twitching in my hands.
“OK, Jimmy, hold him like this for me,” I instructed the child. The boy placed his hands around the iguana, allowing me to look inside his mouth, listen to his heart and feel his belly. “See how Iggy is twitching?” I asked Jimmy. “That’s because he needs more calcium.”
“To grow strong bones and teeth,” the child responded.
I bit my lip to keep from laughing.
“Yes, that’s absolutely correct. He needs to stay in the hospital with me so I can give him some calcium to make him better.”
“Over my dead body,” Nicole yelled from the doorway. “I told you to kill it.”
“Technically, your ex-husband owns the iguana. I need his permission.” I looked at the child. “Jimmy, do you know your dad’s phone number?”
He looked up at me and nodded.
“Good, let’s call your dad.” I escorted the child to the phone on the pharmacy counter, ignoring Nicole’s threats. I held Iggy while Jimmy dialed. I could feel Nicole standing right behind me.
“Dad, Dad!” Jimmy screamed into the phone. “Iggy is sick.” He started to cry again. His words were impossible to understand.
I took the receiver from him.
“Hello is this Jimmy’s dad?” I asked.
“Yes, my name is Jim Pierce. Who are you?” he asked.
“My name is Dr. Nelson. Jimmy’s iguana is sick and needs immediate care but your — ” I paused. “But Nicole is refusing to pay for treatment. She wants it euthanized.” Jim mumbled a few words I couldn’t understand.
“Now you know why I divorced her, she’s a real piece of…”
“If we start treatment right away, I think we can save Iggy,” I interrupted, trying to focus him on what was important. “Since you purchased Iggy, you are the owner. What do you want me do to?”
“Do whatever it takes to save Iggy. Jimmy loves that little lizard,” he replied.
“I was hoping you’d say that.” I collected the father’s contact information and gave him an estimate before handing the phone back to Jimmy. The child used both hands to hold the phone while he talked to his dad. By the time they hung up, Jimmy had stopped crying. His eyes widened when Allie walked into the room with Joey by her side.
“Wow, that’s a big dog,” he said. “He’s as tall as me.”
“And he’s still growi
ng,” I informed him.
“Joey’s films should be out soon, Dr. Nelson,” Allie announced. She swept a piece of loose hair behind her ear with one hand. Her eyes opened wide and froze when she saw Jimmy and Nicole standing next to me.
“Allie,” I motioned to her. “Please set up the incubator for Iggy.” She nodded and headed for the dog exam room. “I wrote a dose for calcium in his record,” I called after her. After returning Joey to his owner, Allie grabbed Iggy and his record.
“Jimmy, would you like to see where Iggy is going to stay?” I asked. He nodded eagerly.
“Then come with me,” Allie instructed. He skipped along behind Allie into the treatment room. When I heard the incubator open, I turned my attention to Nicole. She stood there glaring at me. All the veins on her neck stood out.
“How dare you!” she whispered while clenching her hands into tight fists.
“I have to follow the law, ma’am. Listen, you’re right,” I continued before she could respond. “Your ex should have asked you before getting him an iguana.” She relaxed her fists a little, still glaring. “Especially since most women do not like reptiles of any kind.” I paused. “Shoot, I would be mad, too.” Her expression softened a little more. “But Jimmy loves Iggy.”
“Impossible,” she responded. “No one can love a lizard.”
“As you know, divorce is really tough on the kids. Mom is mad at dad, and dad is mad at mom, and the children are stuck in the middle. In this situation, the kids form a really strong bond with their pets. I’ve seen it happen over and over again because the pet is the only one who gives them unconditional love.”
Nicole’s pupils dilated, and her lower lip quivered.
“I know you’re angry at your ex, but you must not take that anger out on Jimmy, or you’ll lose him too.”
Nicole looked at the floor. I stood silently, waiting and wondering if I had said too much. I wasn’t sure if she was going to thank me or punch me.
Coated With Fur: A Blind Cat's Love Page 25