Coated With Fur: A Vet's Life

by Kristen Nelson

  “Good morning, Ron,” I greeted him, trying to hide the emotion of losing Chewy moments before. Sam stood at attention with a gleam in his eye. His tail thumped against the cabinets. “And good morning to you, handsome.” Sam’s deep rust-colored fur reminded me of a dog I grew up with. “Are you ready for fun?” The dog watched me intensely – he knew what was coming.

  “Is the bitch here yet?” Ron asked without returning my greeting. “Mitch promised he would drop her off early this morning.” I nodded. “Then what are we waiting for? Let’s get this over with.” He looked at the stunning gold watch on his wrist. “I have a tee time at noon.” I nodded again. Ron was always in a hurry. In the summer it was golf, in the winter it was racquetball. This man was always late for something.

  I grabbed a leash from the treatment room and headed to the kennel. Ashley waited for her date with Sam.

  “Come here, Ashley,” I called, and she bounded into my arms. Instead of the more common dark gold color, Ashley’s hair was fair. Her black nose and dark brown eyes stood out against her blond fur. I placed the leash around her neck and led her out of the kennel.

  Dad stood next to the counter with a wrench in one hand and a pipe in the other. Cleaning supplies from under the sink sat next to him. More tools littered the floor. For this procedure, I needed his help. After one look at the blond bombshell, he eagerly left his tools behind. Fortunately, Dad did not ask why I wanted his help.

  “This is my Dad, Ron,” I said introducing them to each other. “He’s going to help so we can get you on your way.” I handed Ashley’s leash to Steve. Ron nodded at my dad and looked at his watch again. Steve walked Ashley to the middle of the room so Sam would have plenty of space. It wasn’t a honeymoon suite in Vegas, but it gave him room to maneuver and provided all the ambience Sam needed.

  Steve kneeled on the floor next to Ashley with his hands on her collar. I removed the artificial vagina from the heating pad and attached the warm test tube.

  “Ready?” Ron asked. I nodded. He walked Sam over to Ashley and pointed at her swollen vulva. Sam sniffed. She immediately flagged, her tail raised high in the air and held off to the side. Sam wagged his tail and yipped. He understood her communication. She wanted him, and he was delighted to oblige. Sam licked her vulva. She flagged even more. Love at first sight.

  I knelt down beside Ashley’s rear end with the collection apparatus in my hands. Sam looked at me and mounted her back. With my dad watching and clearly uncomfortable at the sight of his daughter on her knees participating in this event, I quickly positioned the artificial vagina over Sam’s penis. Sam thrust his body forward. Four quick pushes later, milky liquid filled the test tube. He dismounted Ashley with a grin that was beyond silly. I peeled the artificial vagina off his engorged penis.

  “Wow, that’s a big sample,” I exclaimed, much to Ron’s delight.

  “Yeah, he’s always been a good breeder,” Ron said with a huge smile on his face. He gathered the leash in his hand. “Are we done?”

  “Almost – let me take a quick peek at the semen under the microscope.” I walked over to the counter where my dad stood. “Dad, hold this.” I detached the test tube from the artificial vagina. “You need to keep the sample warm while I check it.” Dad’s usually steady hand trembled as he reached for the test tube, his face bright red. I placed a drop of semen on a warm slide, positioned it under the microscope and began the analysis. Silence filled the room as three men awaited my verdict.

  The entire slide vibrated with sperm. Their tails whipped back and forth as they struggled toward an unseen goal. Most swam in straight lines across the field of view. My eyes scanned for problems such as heads detached from tails or swimming in circles. I found no issues. The sperm were sound and sturdy. Out of hundreds on the slide, I detected only two bent tails, a minor problem.

  “Looks good,” I announced and turned off the microscope. “He’s got great motility with only a few secondary defects.” Ron stood even taller. He absolutely glowed. He stroked Sam’s head, as proud of his stud as if this breeding reflected his own talent.

  “Can I go now?” he asked.

  “I’d rather you wait until his erection subsides. He’s still hanging kind of low.” I previously had one unfortunate injury when a dog hurt himself jumping into a truck.

  Ron looked at Sam’s swollen penis. The golden walked with his back legs wide apart to accommodate the size. Long after his thrusts into the artificial vagina in my hands, clear prostatic fluid still dripped onto the floor of the clinic.

  “Not to worry, Dr. Nelson,” he insisted. “I’ll take good care of him. See you later.”

  With the collection and analysis complete, I turned my attention to Ashley. I put on sterile gloves before touching the pipette and syringe, then motioned to my dad. He walked over to me with the test tube clutched tightly in his right hand. Unable to look at me, he kept his eyes fixed on the floor. I inserted the pipette into the test tube and aspirated Sam’s semen. When every drop of the precious material was in the syringe, I instructed Dad to hold Ashley’s tail out of the way. He did as I asked, all without any eye contact. I giggled inside.

  I gently inserted a gloved finger and the tip of the pipette through the lips of the vulva. Ashley’s rear end sank to the ground. Evidently, I was no substitute for Sam.

  “No, no,” Steve sprang to action. “You have to stand for this, sweetie.” He pulled her up to her feet. She tried to sit again but could not with Steve’s hand under her abdomen. I reinserted the pipette and slid it down her vagina into place. A quick push on the syringe plunger sent the sperm hurtling toward the eggs. Perhaps the miracle of life would soon begin. I detached the syringe, filled it with air and flushed the pipette twice before removing it from her body.

  Now began the wait. To help the sperm find their target, the female’s hips need to be elevated for 20 minutes. Steve knew the drill from assisting me with other inseminations. He placed a white rubber stepstool under her rear legs to let gravity go to work. The stool elevated Ashley’s hips above her head. She swung her head around for a better look at the stool. She could understand neither why the sex was so unfulfilling, nor why we humans were making her stand in such an awkward position.

  I gave Steve and my dad folding chairs to make the wait more comfortable. They set the chairs on either side of Ashley, Steve holding her collar while Dad held onto her back. A stifling silence ensued. Dad continued to stare at the floor, and Steve looked at the clock on the wall. Neither said a word. Ashley had 18 minutes to go.

  My father is a traditional guy. He worked hard to provide for our family while my mother stayed home to care for us kids. Sunday morning, they loaded us into the family sedan for church. Dad always drove while my mother primped in the mirror on the passenger visor. They followed the teachings of the church – no alcohol, tobacco, swearing or gambling. They also frowned on dancing and any movie without a G rating. The topic of sex was strictly off-limits. I had a safe, comfortable and strict upbringing.

  I was totally clueless about sex. I knew it took a male and a female, but that was the extent of my knowledge for many years. We moved from Hopkins to a farm when I was 12, and that was my first true exposure to breeding. After wrapping the mare’s tail, the adults always made me leave the barn before the stallion arrived. I peeked through the door, but never saw the good stuff. About the only thing I learned is that breeding horses is noisy, and stallions seem to like it.

  One year, I decided we should have baby rabbits, but my mother disagreed. She believed the two we had were sufficient. After school, I snuck down to the barn and put the doe into the buck’s cage. As I watched, the doe flattened her body against the cage floor. She lay motionless except for wrinkling her nose. The buck uttered low-pitched guttural sounds as he jumped to and fro over her back. I recall wondering how in the world this led to babies.

  After a few minutes of bored observation, I returned the doe to her cage, and a month later, she gave birth to a large litter of
bunnies. Mom did not accept my explanation of divine intervention. Perhaps she knew more about this process than I thought. I learned two important lessons from this experience. First, never underestimate the reproductive capabilities of rabbits. Second, never underestimate the wrath of a mother disobeyed.

  Today, the silence between the men holding Ashley remained deafening. Finally, Steve felt obligated to lower the tension, choosing a light approach. “Well, Gordy, did you ever think you would see your daughter do that?”

  Dad chuckled nervously and shook his head. He looked at Steve for the first time since the breeding began. “I never thought she’d ask me to hold the sample, either.” With that, my Dad and my husband erupted in laughter. They laughed so long and so hard their faces turned red.

  “I have to admit,” Steve said, pausing to catch his breath, “When we got married, I didn’t plan on ever doing this with my father-in-law.”

  “And I never thought I’d be doing this with my son-in-law,” my dad replied. “Let’s not tell Kris’ mother.” They laughed some more. I enjoyed seeing them together. Good but very different men by profession and nature, they found common ground through the breeding of two golden retrievers. The cloud of sadness that hung over the clinic with the death of Chewy lifted.

  The tension broken, the two most important men in my life discussed safe topics; the weather, the Minnesota Twins and family. Eventually the conversation turned to business. With the first anniversary of the clinic just days away, Dad wanted to know how things were going. Although he never said it out loud, he wondered if I could really run a business. In his mind, I was still his little girl.

  Steve excitedly described the growth of the practice. He recounted being concerned in the early months when we hoped for just one precious appointment per day. Now we looked back fondly on the spring heartworm season when the clinic finally broke-even. We feared business would slow down over the summer, but revenue remained strong. Now, at our first anniversary, we could hire more help. “We’re going to add another technician as soon as Kris finds the right one,” Steve told my Dad.

  Steve looked at the clock and counted off the last 60 seconds. “Good girl,” Steve praised Ashley. He released his grip on her collar. Dad let go, too. She stepped off the stool and pranced around.

  My dad stood up and hugged me. A Navy man and contractor by trade, he was not prone to emotion. But today, Dad said he was proud of me and the practice. I felt tears welling again, but this time, tears of joy. My dream came true. Wouldn’t Dr. Anderson be thrilled.

  Acknowledgments

  When my friend heard I was writing a book, she told me that “writing a book is like living in the desert and the oasis keeps moving.” Since I live in the desert, her words resonated with my soul and the experience of writing. Thank goodness, as I wrote, I have been surrounded by animals.

  Let me start by thanking a gifted editor, Deb Rinard, for making the words disappear as the stories came to life. She did more than correct mistakes. Deb made the book more readable while keeping my voice intact. Her editorial expertise, combined with tangible love for her own cats, Snicker and Doodle, made her the perfect editor for this book. In addition, she has been a joy to work with.

  My sincere thanks to Vickie Mullins and Brandi Hollister of Mullins Creative for illuminating my ideas in these pages. The firm’s professionalism and skill in book design are a great gift to an author. Miniature pinchers Tinkerbell and Jasmine no doubt contributed to the flair and focus Mullins Creative brought to this project.

  To my literary attorney, Jonathan Kirsch, a heartfelt thanks for all of his advice. Jonathan has guided me over several years as I set up my company, developed a media presence and finally, wrote a book. Thanks for your wise counsel and encouragement, Jonathan.

  When it came time to shoot a picture for the back cover, I called photographer Tina Celle. In addition to years of experience, Tina lives with Foxy, a lovely Pomeranian. She patiently positioned my pets – Mauka the cat, and Buddy the dog – and encouraged them to look at the camera. Thankfully, Tina has patience without measure.

  Dara Rybalov is a gifted artist and designed the book’s cover. At first sight, I loved her work! Dara is passionate about art and books so this was a perfect marriage of her talent and interest. Thank you, Dara. Her creative process is enhanced by two Siamese cats, Ming and LeMei, who insist she take regular breaks from designing to play fetch.

  Throughout the last year family and friends have been asking about the book. “How’s it going? When will it be published?” I wondered the same thing myself on several occasions... . Thanks for your constant support, words of encouragement and inspiration. I hope the finished work was worth the wait!

  Writing is an exercise in solitude. Yet I never felt alone or that this was a solo endeavor. Thank you to my husband, Steve, for his untiring enthusiasm and belief in me. Thanks, too, for all your help with the clinic and now with the book. I’m glad I worked so hard to get that first date 23 years ago!

  Last, my heartfelt thanks to all the clients who trusted me with their beloved pets. I know animals are cherished members of your family. It is a privilege and honor to care for them. Their stories live forever in my heart!

  About the Author

  Dr. Kristen Nelson grew up on a farm in Watertown, Minnesota, where she developed a deep love for animals of all kinds. She received a Doctor of Veterinary Medicine degree from the University of Minnesota, College of Veterinary Medicine. Kris then completed a small-animal internship at the prestigious Animal Medical Center in New York City.

  In addition to writing and speaking, she cares for small and exotic animals in Scottsdale, Arizona. Dr. Nelson is widely quoted in the media. Her credits include USA TODAY, The Los Angeles Times, DisneyFamily.com and numerous radio and television interviews. Kris and her husband, Steve, share their home with rescued cats, birds and a dog.

  More information about Dr. Nelson is available at http://www.veterinarycreative.com. Dr. Nelson answers veterinary questions at http://www.drnelsonsveterinaryblog.com. You may also follow her on Facebook and Twitter. For those seeking admission to professional college, she offers advice and has guides available for purchase at: http://www.vetschoolapp.com, http://www.medschoolapp.com, and http://www.dentschoolapp.com.