draggonlaady

This has been a week just full of owner fail and subsequent frustration for veterinarians.
Full details to follow, but for now, an open question:

What could go wrong when an owner decides to administer fluids intra-abdominally to sick puppies? I kinda want a list of things that maybe not-medically-trained folks can come up with off the top of your heads, and what your reaction as a pet owner would be if you were told to do this? For those medically untrained enough that you don't know what I am talking about - if someone suggested to you that your sick puppy was dehydrated and therefore you should give it fluids by putting a needle through the belly wall/flank directly into the abdomen, what would you think of that idea?

The weekend was hell on wheels; no reason why, as it wasn't a full moon.

Saturday I showed up to work and we had 4 things scheduled, only 2 of which needed an exam. That changed.

Ended up with 2 dogs that we had to completely anesthetize just to get the grass seeds out of their ears. One of them was just too bouncy to cope with, the other one was trying to eat my technician.

Despite being a non-painful procedure, we had to sedate the crap out of another dog so we could take x-rays of it's elbows, because he's a total freak about any restraint.

2 euthanasias.

And 1 really nice, calm, friendly, handsome cat for a rabies shot.

First thing in the morning, I called Mrs Miller about some blood work on a bitch she's trying to get bred. Told her that Monday morning would be a good time to breed. She asks can I do it tomorrow (Sunday). I say that Monday should be fine. She wants Sunday. I tell her it'll more than double her cost, because I'm (sure as all fuck) charging her an emergency fee if she wants me to come in on Sunday. She says that's fine. Well, whatever. It's money and at least her dog is easy to collect from. Don't know why she keeps breeding him when he can't figure out how to work his equipment with the bitch though.

Get a call just as we're going to bed that night, about a cat with swelling around her spay incision. Figure "why the hell not?" Bring her on in tomorrow at 9 too, we can just have a whole 'nother day at the clinic.

So bright and early Sunday, we get to the clinic (I dragged Bruce along, because I'm mean that way). The folks with the cat are already there (half an hour before I told them to be), but that's okay, we get the cat looked at and squared away before Mrs Miller even gets there. She drops her dogs off, we get him collected and her inseminated, and all the normal morning chores done.

Mrs Miller comes to get the dogs, and I explain that while the dog was easy to collect and the semen looked good, there wasn't very much of it, so it might be a good idea to re-inseminate tomorrow morning. (Yeah, you know, the time we originally tried to get her scheduled for...) She makes an appointment for as late as possible in the afternoon (um. morning? afternoon? But, she was the one who was so worried about being too late if we waited until Monday in the first place.)

So we get home and finally get breakfast (lunch? applesauce waffles. yummy!) eaten just in time for another call.

Back to the clinic to put an IV catheter in an old sick dog.

Finish that and head to the grocery store. While there, get a call from a guy who says his parents are out of town and the neighbor is watching their dog. Neighbor just called him and says the dog got porcupined. He'll bring it in, but first he has to go get the dog. Okay.

We're just checking out when the guy calls back; seems the neighbors are very confused, and the porcupined dog is not his, it's the OTHER neighbor's dog (who looks similar).

Back a couple times more during the afternoon to check on the old sick dog and make sure his IV's flowing okay.

Thankfully, no calls in the middle of the night.

Which brings us to today...

Apparently, I am incapable of setting the alarm clock correctly, as it was turned off this AM. Woke up 20 minutes late, got to work 10 minutes late.

2 cat euthanasias this morning.

Mostly things are going fairly smoothly though.

Until I answer the phone. (I know, I should never do these things)

First caller wants an exact amount for a dental with extraction of a broken canine in a 10 year old dog we haven't seen for years. Had a long discussion about blood work and kidney disease and what we do if we find kidney disease. Wants exact amounts for all possibilities, but doesn't want to spend "a whole ton of money" on the dog. Back to the extraction; I try to explain that I can't give her an exact amount, because it depends on how long it takes to do the extraction, which in turn depends on how firmly attached the tooth is and how healthy the root is. Also, I can't even begin to guess on if there will be multiple extractions. Spend 15 minutes talking to her and I don't think she was at all happy with my inability to see the future.

Next one I answer starts right off with "We've got an emergency. My little dog's having a really hard time walking, and is holding her head all twisted around to the side."
"Okay, how long has that been going on?"
"Well, just a little while."
(Don't sigh exasperatedly into the phone!) "How long is a while?"
"Well, not long. Maybe about 10 minutes?"
"Alright. How long will it take you to get to the clinic?"
"We're just out here on B-lake Road."
(Again, DO NOT sigh exasperatedly into the phone! Obviously there is no point in telling her that there's a 30 minute drive difference between the near and far ends of the road.) "Okay, ma'am, but how long will it take you to get to the clinic?"
...
"Alright ma'am, if you come in right now, we can get you in with Dr S."
"Who?"
"Dr S H"
"What clinic did I call again?"
"The C Veterinary Clinic."
"And what doctor is that?"
"Dr. S H"
"I've never seen him."
"I'm sorry ma'am, he's been here for 18 years now. And he's the doctor who is available if you come in now. Otherwise, nobody will be available until after 4."
"Oh, well... okay."

Why is it that the Millers have this compulsion to frustrate me by asking me something and then either arguing with or completely ignoring my answer?

Mr Miller asked me on the phone last night if he should put cayenne pepper on the dog's ear to make it stop bleeding. I very specifically told him no, because it would burn and irritate the tissue. In those words. Just flip the ear inside out, and bandage it to the head, and the pressure will stop the bleeding, said I.

Yet when Mrs Miller brings in the dog, she's very proud of herself for the fact that they got the bleeding stopped by coating the ear in cayenne powder. What the fuck?!? The skin of the entire face of the ear was bright red and irritated from soaking in this pepper under the bandage.

And when I made a comment about keeping the dog home so she stops getting injured, Mrs Miller blew it off with "well she was only out to go potty." Yeah. Apparently--she was out to go potty somewhere that she managed to snag her ear on something and tear it open, which makes it highly unlikely that she was remaining safely in the yard. These people are not just ignorant, it's like they're determined to stay as stupid as possible!

Been quiet the last couple weeks, as you probably noticed from my lack of ranting. And then today, all hell broke loose. So I'll post one story, and go get dinner. Will probably just save the rest of the ranting for the next couple days.

About 9 am, Mrs Miller comes in with one of her dogs, just certain that she's been shot and is dying. When I come out, the dog's laying on the floor in the lobby--I don't know if they carried the dog in, dragged the dog in, or the dog walked in on her own. Irregardless, the dog would not stand to walk into the exam room, so Mrs Miller, in all her brilliance, starts dragging her across the room BY HER CHOKE CHAIN. (Oh, this is starting so well!)
I tell her to stop, we'll go get a stretcher and carry the dog. Does us no good to get her into the room if you strangle her to death in the process. Tech comes up with the stretcher, and we attempt to slide the dog onto it. Mrs Miller ever-so-helpfully picks the dog's head and neck up by grabbing the choke chain and heaving. Once again I tell her to stop. (No, I did not just reach out and slap her hands. God did I ever want to though!) She responds that she's not letting the chain tighten, so it won't strangle her. I point out that she's still picking the dog up (and this is a big dog, 75 pounds of not moving on her own right now) by a thin chain across the throat. Just please (KNOCK IT THE FUCK OFF) let us do it. We slide the dog onto the stretcher and lift her onto the exam table, and I start looking at the dog.
First thing is check the vitals--mucous membrane color, alertness, capillary refill, heart/lungs. When I start looking at the dog's mouth, Mrs Miller very urgently points at the dog's swollen front leg. "Yes, I see that. I'll get there in a minute." I finish with the vitals, and relatively certain that the dog will not expire in the next 5 minutes, I start looking at the rest of her. I work down the front legs, starting with the leg on top. Once again, Mrs Miller points out the (VERY FUCKING OBVIOUS) wound on the other front leg. "Yes, I see that. I'll get there in a minute." Not finding any gushing arteries or obviously broken bones in either front leg, I move down the body and start on the back legs. There are 2 puncture wounds on the inside of the lower hind leg. Once again, I start on the upper leg, it being closest to me. Mrs Miller begins pointing out the wounds on the other hind leg. "Yes, I see that. I'll get there in a minute." When I move to the injured hind leg, I'm examining the first puncture when Mrs Miller apparently just notices the second "There's ANOTHER one, right under your thumb!" "Yes, I see that. I'll get there in a minute." (Are we sensing a trend here?)
At this point, I'm not sure the dog's been shot at all--that hind leg injury is almost certainly a bite wound (unless one of you fine readers can explain how a bullet would make 2 punctures about 1 1/2" apart, one directly above the other on the inner face of the leg?). I explain to the owner that I don't think the hind leg is a bullet wound, but the front leg may be. Can't feel any fractures but we'd better take radiographs just in case, as bullet wounds often carve chunks off bones without completely shattering them. We'll take one of the hind leg also, since Mrs Miller just can't believe that it'd be a bite wound.
At this point, Mrs Miller (Thank all the Gods of ever!) heads off to work, leaving us to treat the dog.
We get a catheter and fluids going, give her a couple different pain meds, and head in to X-ray. Sure enough, no metal in the hind leg. Front leg has a lovely chunk of bullet right next to the radius though. Damn lucky dog--no bony damage at all. So clip and clean and flush all the wounds, start her on antibiotics, and call the cel phone number that Mrs Miller left with us.
Mr Miller answers. Mr Miller is up until this point completely unaware that the dog has been brought to the clinic, and is rather blind-sided by a doctor calling him up to discuss bullet wounds. We persevere none-the-less, and I explain why we are not rushing to surgery to remove the bullet, what the plan actually is (pain control, anti-inflamatories, anti-biotics, treatment for shock). This conversation actually goes relatively smoothly.
A few hours later, Mrs Miller calls in for an update. I explain to her that it appears to be 1 bite wound, probably from a dog of about the same size as this one, and 1 bullet wound, most likely from the owner of the other dog. Mrs Miller is (once again) surprised that I think her dog has a bite wound. Apparently, she thinks it's much more likely that the dog would be shot 3 times in the legs than that the dog would get in a fight. Yeah. Anyway, we discuss taking the dog home instead of leaving her in the clinic overnight, at home care, follow-up care, etc. She doesn't want to leave the dog overnight because she "can't afford any more vet bills." (Guess she's not selling the pups from her puppy-milling for enough.) Then she asks "you're open until 5:30 right?" No. (No, we have never been open until 5:30. We have always closed at 5 and you fucking well know this, because you've been told it at least a dozen times because you ALWAYS WANT TO COME IN AT 5!) I explain that if she wants to take the dog home tonight, she needs to be here by at least 15-20 minutes BEFORE 5:00 so that I can go over treatments and radiographs with her before closing.
At 4:40, Mrs Miller calls and explains that she's still 20 miles away. Can she still come get the dog?!? Receptionist heaves a short-tempered sigh that I can hear from the next room, and tells her she'd better get here as fast as she can.
At 5:10, Mrs Miller finally arrives. I show her the radiographs, and she asks me what the chances are that this was a "cat" bite. (I think it's pretty bloody unlikely, actually, which is why I've told you 4 damn times now that I think it's a dog bite, you moron.) I explain (calmly enough to impress myself, anyway) that cougars usually attack from above, so I would expect there to be bite wounds in the neck and shoulders, not the lower leg. Cougars would leave much larger bite wounds, and probably claw wounds also. And it's highly unlikely that if someone happened upon and dog and a cougar fighting, that they would shoot the dog.

For a bit more history on my dealings with the Millers, try here:
http://draggonlaady.livejournal.com/74346.html
and here:
http://draggonlaady.livejournal.com/64637.html
(Yes, this is the same dog that she bathed in Pine-Sol)

Had an entertaining (read: frustrating) discussion with a woman who should very much not be breeding dogs. It seems that she just got a new dog, and the previous owners say that she was not scratching or acting itchy before she came here. The new owner stopped by the clinic today (without the dog, mind you) to see if I knew why the dog could be itching. After telling her that I couldn’t begin to diagnose the dog without seeing it, I ran through the list of things most commonly causing itching: fleas, mites, allergies, ringworm… could be a more serious disease though, and I recommended she bring the dog in. At which point she informs me that she’s not seen any fleas on the dog, and she bathed it, get this, in PINE-SOL. Oh yeah. THAT’LL make the itching go away, honey. Floor cleaner on already irritated skin. Poor puppy!

A rather un-washed gent came in recently, and wanted to know if there was anything he could feed to 2 wild dogs that would knock them out so he could chain them up. Upon further discussion, this is the situation (condensed from the conversation): There are 2 dogs, one male, one female who’ve been living near this gent’s place (which, by the way, is a motor home with no power and no phone). He’s been feeding them, and say’s they’re basically “like his dogs” except that he can’t get anywhere near them. He likes having them around, because they bark and snarl if someone gets near his shop or boat. (I’m a bit skeptical that he has anything worth stealing, what with living in a motor home with no power, but what do I know?) Unfortunately, the dogs apparently kill and eat random beasts in the area—cats and deer, according to him—and the neighbors are fed up with it. He’s been told to do something about them or the neighbor will start shooting (the dogs, silly, not the gent). Apparently his previous attempts to catch these dogs included feeding them a bunch of beer to get them drunk, but the male didn’t drink any and the female still wouldn’t let him get near her even when she was inebriated. He seems unable to lure them into a fenced area or small building. After recommending that he contact Animal Control (sadly, the nearest Animal Control worth mentioning is about an hour away) and/or Fish and Wildlife about a live trap or tranq dart gun, we got down to what drugs I have on hand that he can try—which is only really one option and highly unlikely to be successful. But I sent him off with a few little pink pills to try and slip to the dogs, with the caveat that they’ll be sleepy/calm but not unconscious and will still be quite capable of biting the hell out of him or running away should he piss them off. I sincerely hope that this man does not succeed in catching these dogs and then expect me to work on them. It seems to me much more logical to shoot the untouchable, random-other-animal-killing dogs and get one that barks just as loud but is less likely to rip the man’s hand off at the shoulder. But again, what do I know?