Canine "Bloat"---When Bigger is Not Better

                                                        


Officer Aaron Montgomery & K-9 Grizz

                                  Many dog owners have a strong affection for the larger dog breeds.  For some, the bigger the better is the rule. Besides having a higher grocery bill, large and giant breed dogs are unique in another way. Lima Police K-9 Officer “Aron” reminded me of this when he developed a life threatening emergency one evening. 

 

                        Aron, a 90 pound German Shepherd, along with three fellow K-9 officers, has done his share to provide safety and service to the City of Lima.  All four K-9 officers are highly trained by police handlers whose bond to their four-legged partners is among the strongest I have ever witnessed.  As a result of the closeness that these canine and human officers share, the handlers have a keen sense of when something is very wrong with their canine partners.

 

                        Such was the case late one evening when Investigator Jason Bugh discovered that Aron was in trouble as he began wretching persistently.  Investigator Bugh quickly realized that Aron was also having extreme abdominal discomfort. The next vital realization the handler had was that Aron’s abdomen was beginning to bloat.

 

                        K-9 handlers receive frequent training, including first aid and emergency care for their dogs.  Having known Investigator Bugh for a long time, I have always found him to be a conscientious and perceptive dog owner.  So when he paged me just after midnight and expressed that he thought Aron might die, I knew he was right.

 

                        From Investigator Bugh’s description of Aron’s symptoms, it was clear that his partner was experiencing gastric dilatation and possible volvulus (GDV), better known as “Bloat.”   This condition is dreaded by many large or giant dog breed owners because its symptoms are fast, furious, and deadly.

 

                        GDV occurs in large, deep-chested dogs when their stomachs fill with food, fluid or air.  The stomach of these dogs is C-shaped and often pendulous in their large abdomens.  Over-filling of this type of stomach, especially if the distention is followed by activity, can result in bloating and swinging of the organ within the abdomen.  With enough swaying motion, the stomach then flips over on its long axis, causing obstruction of the stomach at both ends. 

 

                        This anatomical abnormality sets off a chain of events that quickly become life-threatening, ranging from progressive distention of the stomach with air, to torsion of the spleen, decreased cardiac output, shock, and death. Because of the seriousness and rapidity of these events, treatment needs to be immediate and aggressive, and usually consists of surgical intervention to correct the stomach distention and torsion.

 

                        Depending on the duration and severity of the torsion, the dog may also need to have its spleen and/or parts of the stomach or intestines removed if there has been compromise of the blood supply to these organs. The mortality rate associated with GDV may be as high as 28%, but if diagnosed and treated swiftly, GDV dogs can survive. 

 

                        Aron was very fortunate that his handler acted fast and appropriately.  I advised him to take Aron immediately to a 24 hour emergency surgery service provided by the Northeast Indiana Veterinary Emergency Services in Fort Wayne. A highly skilled veterinary team corrected his GDV and removed his compromised spleen.

 

                        As I reflect upon Aron’s crisis, I want to prevent others from repeating his experience. Aron most likely developed GDV because he was on a feeding regimen of four cups of food fed once daily.  This is a common practice for police dogs whose jobs make it inconvenient to feed them more often. For GDV-prone dog breeds, once daily feeding and feeding from elevated platforms, definitely sets them up for failure.

                       

                        While the absolute cause of GDV is unknown, I have always taught pet owners who own large breed, deep-chested dogs to feed their pets at least three smaller meals daily.  I also instruct them to never exercise their dogs for at least an hour after eating or drinking.  Even swallowing a lot of air during barking or play can contribute to a gastric dilatation episode.

 

                        Some large breed dog owners may choose to have their dog’s stomach “tacked” to the inside abdominal wall at the time of neutering in an effort to prevent GDV.  This surgery, called “gastropexy,” can prevent the stomach from twisting, but it will not stop it from bloating.

 

                        While Aron’s story has a happy ending as he continues to improve after surgery, I hope to never receive that dreaded after hours GDV phone call again.  If you own a large, deep-chested dog breed, talk to your veterinarian about GDV prevention and know what action you should take in the event that it happens to you.

 

By Dr. Bonnie Jones

 

This column is in honor and memory of Investigator Jason Bugh
(deceased 5/1/10) and Canine Officer Aron (8/18/00-12/8/12).

A Near Perfect Farm Call By Dr. John Jones

                                                

             It was a perfect summer day. The temperature was in the seventies, the humidity low, and the clouds were high in the vibrant blue sky. So when I saw the message from Amy Stechschulte that read “limping fair pigs”, I was almost relieved to have an excuse to leave the office.

            I first met Amy and her family two years ago when they had a minor rectal prolapse problem with one of their 4-H hogs. Last year involved a few visits, unfortunately, as they dealt with some sick pigs. Ironically, I happened to be thinking of them the morning Amy called, and wondering if they even had any pigs this year. Evidently, they did, but until the limping pig epidemic started a few days before, no problems had arisen.

            As I approached their well kept farm, I saw four kids manning a “sweet corn for sale” stand in the front yard, and when I turned into the driveway they all made a bee-line to the barn. It was a scene I think Norman Rockwell would have appreciated. I know I did.

            When I started veterinary practice thirty years ago, I was only seven years removed from my own 4-H days. At that time every animal, except rabbits, going to the county fair needed a health certificate signed by a veterinarian. In addition, hogs needed to be blood tested for a disease called pseudorabies. Although I enjoyed the camaraderie of the kids, and the chance to relive my youth vicariously, the work could be exhausting.

            From late May until nearly September, I stayed busy preparing papers for children from Putnam, Paulding, Allen, and Van Wert counties. That involved a lot of driving, crawling in and out of pens, boot washing, and coverall changing. Moreover, stooping down to get blood out of a pig is very hard on one’s knees, and just about everything else. By the end of summer, I was ready for the fairs to be over.

            After a few years, pseudorabies was eradicated from Ohio, and the Ohio Department of Agriculture deemed testing no longer necessary, nor was the requirement for county fair health papers. “Yippee!”  I felt like a kid given summer vacation. I didn’t think I would ever miss those days.

            Then last year as I was walking through the aisles of 4-H and FFA animals at the Allen County Fair, it hit me. I hadn’t a clue who most of those kids were.  Unless they had a problem earlier in the summer with their project, I knew nothing about them, or their animals. The sense of loss was profound.  Apparently, I missed those summers with the kids more than I thought.

            At the Stechschulte farm, my assistants were three sixth-grade boys and a fourth-grade girl. Inside their barn, the pens were neatly arranged and immaculate, as were the hogs. In spite of this great care, though, four of the pigs had become lame.

 Modern show pigs have muscles of such mass and definition Arnold Schwarzenegger would be envious. This conformation combined with the increased walking the kids do to train the pigs in the weeks leading up to the fair, puts a great amount of stress on the joints, especially the hock joint in the rear leg.

            I appointed Logan to be in charge of the hog snare, a noose-like device used for restraint, much like a twitch on a horse. He held each pig still while I took their temperature and performed an exam. Three of the pigs had swollen hocks, and two had a slight fever.

            Our plan was to treat each pig with an injection of Draxxin, an antibiotic used to treat an infectious arthritis caused by Mycoplasma bacteria, and two different anti-inflammatories. Because each drug had virtually the same dosage, was clear as water, and my coveralls had only so many pockets, I assigned each of my other three assistants the task of holding syringes. Abby was “Dexamethasone Girl,” Caleb held the Draxxin, and neighbor Max handled the Banamine. As the Amish say, “Many hands make light work,” and soon our job was done.

            Thank you, kids, for taking me back to the old days, even if it was for just a short while. And thank you, also, for the help with your fine bunch of pigs. It was a nearly perfect visit for this old vet. I only wish I had bought some corn.

 

Rodentophobia By Dr. John Jones

                                                                  

          

               The huge beast was coming straight for me. Mouth agape, saliva dripping, I could see the rows of razor-sharp teeth. It lunged. I tried to move but my legs were in cement. I was paralyzed with fear…and then I screamed.

            Was that the end of me? No, just the latest installment in a long history of nightmares about my favorite creatures.

            “It was rats, wasn’t it?” was all my wife needed to ask the next morning.  

            “Yup.”

            So now you know my big secret. I have rodentophobia. I am afraid of rats. I don’t mean just a little bit. I’m talking “heart-attack-city,” “scream like a little schoolgirl” scared. Rats are my main nemesis, but to be honest, I get the willies from just about all those furry little vermin—mice, gerbils, hamsters, guinea pigs, although I can appreciate a nice squirrel…in a tree. I tolerate rabbits because I convince myself that technically they are not rodents. Rabbits are lagomorphs, a closely related but distinct family.

            I don’t really know why I am so afraid of rats. I like spiders and snakes—well, not really, but they don’t scare me. One of my earliest memories is of playing with a pet hamster, which I did like. My brother, who is 14 years older and also a veterinarian, thinks he knows why I am afraid. He says he used to put his pet white rat in my crib with me. Knowing him, I believe that.

            People are amazed I made it all the way through veterinary school and never had to deal with any rats. The only rat I saw during those years was in the large animal section of the building where the feed and hay were stored. That wasn’t a good day.

            A few farmers know of my affliction, and some are even sympathetic. One time at a dairy farm, I saw a flash of brown out of the corner of my eye. “What was that?” I asked, knowing that the farmer had seen it too. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Doc,” was all I got from the kind but expressionless face. I knew.

            My most horrible real-life nightmare occurred late one Saturday night on an old farm north of Ottoville. I was there to see a sick steer. At least I think it was a steer—that part of the memory is a smidge hazy. After walking into the dimly lit barn, it took my eyes a few moments to adjust. And then I saw them. Not just one or two, there must have been dozens, maybe hundreds. They were everywhere—in the feedbunks, on the rafters, and worst of all, some were crawling through tunnels in the manure just inches from my boots. I can still remember how the little bit of light glimmered on their greasy coats. I don’t know how I survived. As to what was wrong with the cow or steer, or its outcome, I can’t remember—it was hard to concentrate on anything but rats.

            I read in Time magazine years ago that G. Gordon Liddy, from the Watergate days, was also afraid of rats, as a boy. To overcome his fear, he decided one day to kill a rat, cook it, and eat it. He reasoned that the rats would then fear him. I won’t be doing that.

            So after all this talk about rats, you might be asking yourself, “What is the point?” and “How is he going to relate this column to sheep?” because you know it is coming.

            The point is I like cats. In my opinion there is no better rattrap or poison than a good cat, or better yet, a bunch of cats. Most people think of dogs as man’s best friend, but in my mind, cats are right up there.

            But there is a problem with cats and how they relate to the sheep business. That problem is Toxoplasmosis, a protozoal disease that causes abortion in sheep and goats, as well as birth defects in humans.

            Cats transmit this organism to sheep and goats through fecal contamination of feedbunks and hay. Many sheep veterinarians are very anti-cat, and think the only way to protect sheep from this disease is to eliminate all the cats on the farm.

            In truth, most cats only shed the Toxoplasma oocysts or eggs for a short period of time in their lives. Kittens usually begin to hunt between four to six months of age. They obtain the Toxoplasma agent from the tissues of their prey, become infected themselves, and pass oocysts in their feces for a two or three week period before developing immunity, and cease oocyst shedding. Mother cats nursing litters, or cats infected with feline leukemia or feline immunodeficiency virus, that is, cats with compromised immune systems, may shed oocysts at inappropriate times.

            Therefore, keeping a healthy stable of older, neutered adult cats, avoiding kittens when ewes and does are pregnant, maintaining litterpans in barn aisleways, and nixing the purchase of feces contaminated hay, should help make your sheep and goats safe from Toxoplasmosis, and you and your veterinarian safe from rats.

            As luck would have it, the morning after my nightmare I described at the beginning of this column, on my way to the barn, I stumbled across the back-end remains of a small rat. I didn’t even know there were any around, and believe me, I look. A search revealed no other signs of rats nor the front end of that one. I guess my cats are still doing a great job. Nevertheless, it wasn’t a good day for me, or the rat.

 

The Lima News- October 3, 2004

The American Southdown Journal- Fall 2004

Taming the Itch That Just Won’t Quit

                                   

                                ‘Tis the season…that time of year when pets and pet owners have restless days and sleepless nights because the itch won’t stop itching. In the veterinary profession, we call it “peak allergy season.”  When hay fever suffers are the most miserable, generally pets are, too.  The difference is that most allergic pets reflect their allergies through itchy skin rather than respiratory and eye symptoms like their human counterparts.

                                When presented with a pet that is scratching, I will first ask a series of questions about the pet’s diet, and the timing, extent and severity of symptoms.   Next, I perform a thorough physical exam of my patient.  If warranted, I will conduct testing that might include skin scrapings for mites, allergy or thyroid blood testing.  Once I have obtained a complete medical history, conducted an exam and reviewed test results, by the process of elimination a diagnosis will be close at hand. 

                                In recent years, I have observed a significant uptick in pets being diagnosed with food allergies.  These patients are commonly diagnosed before two years of age and will begin having symptoms as early as the first few months of life.  The typical food allergic patient may have recurrent yeast ear infections or Staph bacterial infections, especially on the lower abdomen.  Often their sole symptom is mild to moderate generalized itchiness that may be responsive early on to oral antihistamines, such as Benadryl.

                                As time goes on, the food allergic patient will get progressively worse and multiple skin problems will ensue. These include difficult to resolve ear infections, ongoing rashes or Staph bacterial and/or yeast skin infections, anal itching, facial rubbing, or foot licking.  I teach clients the following phrase taught to me: “Ears and rears…think food allergy first” because the correlation rings true more than 90% of the time.  And, ears are skin on the inside of the body and that is why they are often involved, too.

                                Do not be surprised if your veterinarian asks you to alter your pet’s diet to resolve its skin or ear problems. This change can be a simple fix for your pet’s discomfort.  Keep in mind, that there are very specific rules you will need to abide by to guarantee you don’t inadvertently “cheat” on your pet’s diet:  your pet’s treats must contain the same ingredients found in its food.  Pet toothpastes, supplements and medications, including heartworm preventives, that contain food flavorings,will need to be changed to products without food ingredients.  Trash raids and snacking outdoors on animal feces and other items must be avoided as well.

                                For some good news, marshmallows are considered hypoallergenic  ( “faux food” as I like to call them) making them a good choice for hiding oral medications or as occasional treats for food allergic patients. The bad news is cheating on your pet’s special food allergic diet can result in your pet’s skin problems relapsing for as long as 30 days!

                                While food allergies are becoming increasingly more common, I would be remiss if I didn’t address the other reasons why pet’s itch.  And, sadly, as much as 50% of the skin problems veterinarians diagnose at this time of year are STILL flea-related. As always, prevention is the best plan when it comes to flea control! Once you realize you have a flea problem, it has already existed for 4-8 weeks, plenty of time for multiple flea generations to be living with your family in your home! It will take you a minimum of 8 weeks with aggressive flea control measures to eliminate your environmental infestation.

                                Please listen to your veterinarian’s advice regarding flea control: use veterinarian-recommended flea control products on ALL of your pets, consistently, properly, and ALL YEAR ROUND!

                                Once your veterinarian has ruled out fleas and food allergy, she will then be able to determine what the underlying cause for your pet’s skin problem might be.  If your dog is diagnosed with environmental allergies, you should ask your veterinarian if a newer canine allergy medicine called Apoquel is right for your dog. This medication is not a steroid, antihistamine or cyclosporine.  It is a neurotransmitter inhibitor that tells the dog’s brain “You’re not itchy,” no matter what the cause might be.

                              Apoquel has been very helpful for many of my patients, especially those with multiple, previously uncontrolled allergies.  Dog owners love that this medication works as quickly as four hours and has seemingly no side effects, unlike other allergy medications.  Apoquel’s current disadvantages include limited availability and cost. 

                                If you are growing tired of hearing your pet’s thumping or slurping, see your veterinarian.  With a proper diagnosis, we’ll help you put an end to your pet’s allergic misery so everyone can get a good night’s sleep again!

 

By Dr. Bonnie Jones