Old Sayings and Flea Control

             
              There's an old adage that “you can’t please ‘em all.” As a veterinarian, I encounter a wide range of people and personalities. From many clients I receive great praise and gratitude; however, I am not perfect, and on rare occasions, I do meet with negative vibes. Recently, I have been picking up on a trend –a handful of people seem to take offense when I run a flea comb through their pets’ fur. “Oh, he doesn’t have fleas” is a common comment that I get when I start examining some pets for an infestation. Occasionally, the people who deny the existence of a flea problem are correct –but sometimes they are not.

             Some folks seem to think that it’s a personal insult to check a pet for such a relatively common parasite. I am often taken aback when I encounter such a negative reaction to a very routine, simple diagnostic procedure that I perform on nearly every patient that I see. I use flea combs on patients so often that it hardly seems to register with me that some clients might take it personally.

             Don’t get me wrong - fleas are quite repulsive. They are nasty little guys that can spread disease and cause plenty of itching and hair loss in animals on a regular basis. And once fleas have set up shop in your home it’s very difficult and costly to get rid of them. The best way to deal with them is to prevent them effectively in the first place.

             Thankfully, there are a wide range of flea products available from monthly topical products to oral medications. I often tell clients that purchasing flea control is similar to purchasing insurance policies. You certainly can find cheap coverage - but it’s not going to be very good coverage. You may be able to find flea collars or flea shampoo at a cheap price on the grocery store shelves but they are by far the least effective flea prevention coverage out there. Another old saying comes to mind: “you get what you pay for.” In fact, some of the very cheap flea control products available have been widely known to cause seizures or neurologic signs and even death in some pets. I recommend getting your flea products from your trusted veterinarian. Use these flea products according to the instructions –usually the products are meant to be used every 30 days.

             The “every 30 days” bit tends to be the part where people get lax on using that coverage they have invested in. I am a veterinary professional and I have the “flea conversation” on average once an hour and I will confess that I myself have trouble remembering to use the flea control that I have for my dog. I have tried using the medications on the day that rent is due. I have tried putting a monthly alarm on my smart phone. The only thing that works for me is using the calendar stickers that come with the box of medicine. Every month when the sticker date arrives I apply my dog’s medicine, count out the next 30 days and place the new sticker as a reminder for the next month’s dose. Without these handy little stickers I’m sure my own dog would be a little flea bag, albeit a cute one.

             Would you be upset with your mechanic for checking your tire pressures? Would you be offended if your doctor or nurse took your temperature? I think that a vast majority of the population would not be upset –surely most realize that these things are a part of the exam, part of a routine work up. In fact, as a consumer, I would be concerned if these procedures were not performed, after all I am paying for the services and knowledge of the professional at hand.

            So try not to take offense if your veterinarian runs a flea comb through your pet’s fur. Rest assured that it is a very basic part of a routine veterinary check up. And if we do happen to find evidence of a flea problem, we will do whatever we can to resolve the problem and help avoid them in the future. To quote one final adage, "better safe than sorry!"

By Dr. Marisa Tong

Definitely Not a Mistake

                                                           

            When the phone rang at 4:40 am New Year’s morning, I must admit to not feeling very festive. Although I’m not a big “celebrator,” I was hoping for more than four hours of sleep. But when I heard it was one of Kirby’s moms who called, and he had taken a turn for the worse, my grumblings ceased. You see, I feel a certain bond with his moms. A few years ago, they provided me with what I consider my best column, as well as one of the most memorable “human” moments of my life.

            The column, “Bette’s Family Values”, was about the death of their old Cocker Spaniel from pancreatic cancer, a disease as nasty for pets as it is for us. Bette’s column wasn’t only about her, however. It also dealt with a window sticker on the back of their Jeep that read; “Hate is not a family value.”

            It wasn’t so much the sticker that impressed me, but the courage it took to display it. Society’s views were much different in the spring of 2006 than they are now, and from the faded, moth-eaten appearance of the sticker, it had been there for a good long time.

              Whenever I write a column and use the real names of pets or people, I always have the humans involved read it before publication to make sure they are comfortable with the content. In this case I wasn’t just asking permission to tell a nice tale, I was seeking absolute verification for a relationship I alluded to but wasn’t convinced even existed.

             I worried for days over how to approach the ladies, and then as if by fate, luck, or divine intervention, I spotted Joyce standing behind our reception counter on the Saturday morning before the column’s Tuesday deadline. I quickly printed a copy of their story, and asked her to follow me down the hallway to our surgery room. She seemed a little apprehensive, and I don’t blame her. It was a rather odd request.

            Once inside, I closed the door, took a deep breath, and began my one line of questioning. “Are you and Joyce…”

            She stopped me. “I am Joyce.”

            My head dropped in defeat and embarrassment, and with what air was left I whispered, “I know that.”

            After a couple more deep breaths, I continued with my eloquent question. “So are you and Patrice cousins or sisters- in- law or something?”

            I wish I could adequately describe the look she gave me but I can’t. Let me just say it was penetrating. The look was followed by a two word response and a follow-up question of  her own. “We’re partners…Why?”

“Oh, thank God!” I exclaimed. “Here read this.”  In my excitement, I nearly threw the papers at her. Poor Joyce, I don’t think she had ever seen someone so happy she had a partner before.    

            As she read the column in front of me, her face softened, and her eyes filled with tears. When she finished, she gave me a really big hug, the warmth of which I can still feel today.

            A few weeks after Bette’s death, Joyce and Patrice adopted a puppy and named him Kirby. The first time I met him, I thought to myself: “Puppy, you just won the dog lottery!” Kirby had a great life with the ladies and the rest of their pet family, much of it spent camping, hiking, and boating at Grand Lake and beyond.

            Last fall his health began to decline. Although we were never able to make a definitive diagnosis, Kirby probably had some type of cancer. Whatever the cause, it culminated in that phone call New Year’s morning.

            When my wife, Bonnie, went to draw up the euthanasia solution, Patrice turned to me and asked, “Did you know Kirby was a mistake?”

             I had forgotten that part of his story. The fuzzy-faced Golden Retriever puppy the ladies purchased grew up to be a handsome Goldendoodle. But that didn’t matter to his new moms. His pedigree   was his only flaw.

            In the confines of the small exam room, as Joyce and Patrice said good-bye to their beloved pet, I had a flashback to Bette’s passing, and what I learned then from the ladies about what it meant to be a family. It became clear to me that a life capable of giving and accepting love can never be a mistake- not Kirby, not anybody.

By Dr. John Jones

Every Pet Should Have a Golden Ending on a Golden Pond

                                                               

 

                         I asked myself today “How do I begin a discussion about euthanasia, the act of putting animals to death humanely?”  This is a professional service that I administer for animals almost daily. In spite of the deep sadness that accompanies the majority of euthanasias, I am able to separate myself from that sadness by realizing I am terminating suffering or the ravages of disease.

                        Because veterinarians perform “cradle to grave” care for their patients that age more rapidly than humans, we get to know our patients and their people quite well and quickly.  The depth of love for and devotion to four-legged family members is revealed in different ways and at different times by pet owners. Thankfully, most pet owners who seek regular veterinary care are genuinely and emotionally invested in their pets.

                        As I tell my clients faced with the decision to end their pet’s life, letting go of that adored pet is the greatest act of love you can show them when the time is appropriate. I will assist in the decision-making process as needed by clarifying the choice with a few questions:

1)      Are your pet’s good days (or good hours in a day) outnumbering the bad?

2)      What do you think your pet’s quality of life is?

3)      Are you comfortable with your pet as it is?

                        When faced with quantitating good times versus bad, the decision becomes more “black and white” for most people.  If they still aren’t sure, I will ask them to use the “Penny Jar” principle.  They are instructed to put a coin in a “Good Day” jar when the pet is having a “good day,” and a coin in the “Bad Day” jar when they are not. This routine helps many justify the decision while they are preparing themselves for it.

                     Some euthanasias are easier to perform than others, technically as well as emotionally.  Veterinarians often develop strong, emotional attachments to their patients, for a multitude of reasons.  Caring for a patient that is blessed to live a long life commonly leads to a deeper attachment to that pet. Certain pets also remind us of our own beloved pets, past or present.  And, some patients are in the “too good to be true” category, either because they are incredibly cute or beautiful, but mostly because they are really cooperative, extremely forgiving, and easy patients to care for.

                    What prompted me to write this column was what I consider perhaps “The Most Perfect Euthanasia” of all. 

                        I have been caring for “Darla,” a much-loved truly “golden” Golden Retriever for over 13 years.  Her 14^th birthday would have been on July 31. Her people always gave her the best of love and veterinary care as recommended.  She earned her “frequent flyer” card at our hospital as a regular on the toenail trimming circuit as well.  We always knew when Darla was in the building because she would announce herself with several jubilant “woofs” upon entering the door. Plain and simple, Darla was a true delight…happy, beautiful, loving and always forgiving.

                        Like many senior pets, Darla began to be plagued by tumors when she was 11 years old. Her attentive owners expressed their concerns expediently as we began a journey of removing and biopsying three different cancers.  While her first cancer was a more benign tumor called squamous papilloma, her second and third cancers were digital and oral melanomas that eventually seeded themselves in her lungs. It recently became clear that Darla had lost her fight with cancer when she began having difficulty breathing, especially when she exerted herself.

                        With Darla’s welfare always at the forefront of their loving care, her owners decided it was time to say good-bye to Darla, and her departure was scheduled to occur at her home.  On the most perfect evening, in a picturesque backyard with more than beautiful landscaping surrounding a lovely pond, I assisted Darla across The Rainbow Bridge after she ingested one last handful of favorite treats, with her people by her side.  I am absolutely certain Darla was smiling as she left her earthly life and went to Heaven.

                        Do I enjoy euthanasias? No. But, this was as close to perfection as it gets.  Everyone should have a “Golden Ending on a Golden Pond.”

 

By Dr. Bonnie Jones