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

Shadowing a Veterinarian

                                                                       

As a veterinarian, I am often approached to have young people follow me around and learn what I do. These bright young minds are lovingly termed “shadows.” Through the years, I have seen a wide range of shadows – with varying degrees of interest, talent, and experience. Some of them seem to have been forced by gun point to show up and follow me around while others are overly excited to be there and willingly volunteer to take time out of their days and see what veterinary medicine is all about.

            I will always remember when I was an eighth grader and had my first opportunity to shadow our family vet, Dr. Darla Boyk. She had a very interesting surgery schedule that morning. It included an exploratory surgery of a dog that had become obstructed due to eating telephone cord (an uncommon foreign body obstruction these days). She also had to spay an old fat dog. I distinctly remember her telling me that that was part of the reason that veterinarians ask owners to spay their dogs when they are young. Younger animals tend to have minimal abdominal fat accumulation. She illustrated her point with the greasy fat material coating her surgical gloves making surgery much more complicated and slippery.  

I was definitely one of the eager-to-be-there types of shadow. I remember being so nervous and excited about shadowing a real life vet that I nearly shadowed her directly into a bathroom stall.  I am sure Dr. Boyk was probably simply trying to hide for a few minutes from the overly-eager eighth grader nipping at her heels.

            As life would have it I have gone from being the shadow to the shadowed. As I had experienced my first surgery many years ago, many of my shadows get to experience watching surgery for the first time.  My technicians know that I love to give these rookies a “spiel.” You see, many of these young people have never seen blood or guts before (other than Hollywood-produced gore). Many people don’t realize how weak their stomach is or how easily they buckle at the knees when faced with real life gore.

 I always tell my shadows that if they start feeling faint they should sit directly on the floor, not on a stool or chair, as it’s a much shorter distance if they do pass out. Recently, a first-timer came to visit and watched a particularly nasty dental cleaning. Apparently, it was too much for her. She was upright and carrying on a conversation one second, then turned white as a sheet and crumpled to the floor the next. Thankfully, she recovered quickly and even managed to stay for the rest of the day with her parents’ blessing. Hopefully, it will be a great story to share when she becomes a successful veterinarian in the future.

If you or some young bright-eyed student that you know is contemplating becoming a veterinarian, I highly encourage you to seek out a veterinarian who allows people to job shadow to get a feel of the veterinary medical field.  It is a very important first step on the long road to becoming a veterinarian.  I thank Dr. Boyk now for her patience and for the opportunity to witness firsthand what a vet does at such a young age.  I am glad that I now have the privilege to help those just starting down the road toward becoming the next generation of veterinarians.

By Dr. Marisa Tong

 

Why I Want To Be a Veterinarian

                                                                            

                                    

                                                              
                                                                    

       

            On June 21, 1985, my wife, Bonnie, and I were married. The next day we moved to Delphos to begin our new careers as veterinarians. With forty years of education between us, we were eager to put all of that knowledge to use, and terrified it wasn’t enough. And it wasn’t. Knowledge is something you can’t have too much of, and we quickly discovered it’s vital to learn new things every day, both about our jobs, and about life. I guess that’s why they call it practice.

            Whenever one of these milestone anniversaries come around, I can’t help but recall another event which occurred four years before- my veterinary school admissions interview with Dr. Walter Venzke. He was a colleague of my dad, and I had known him since I was a little boy, but with the pressure of the interview and what seemed like my whole future at stake, I was one nervous twenty year old kid.

            So when he gave me an imposing look over the top of his glasses, and asked the first question in his legendary gravelly voice, I choked. I really don’t remember what I said, but I’m pretty sure “Um… Um…Uh,” wasn’t the worst part. Apparently, he didn’t hold my poor response against me, and I’ve always been grateful.

 Still, whenever I think of his question, “So you think you want to be a veterinarian…Why?” I can’t help but wish for a do-over. But until I had an encounter a few days ago with a wonderful pet owner named Deb, I’m not sure I would have done it justice.

We’ve known Deb for quite some time now. When she first joined our veterinary hospital family, she had three dogs- Buckeye, Chopper, and Rusty. Deb took exceptional care of them, veterinary- wise, as well as tending to their daily needs. We would frequently spot her around town, walking all three together.

Sadly, two of them, Buckeye and Rusty, passed away just months apart, leaving a huge hole in Deb’s heart. Not long after, our Saturday receptionist introduced Deb to a two year old Labrador- Golden Retriever mix named Mimi, who needed a new home.  I’m certain it was love at first sight, for both of them.

A little over a year later, Chopper died at the age of sixteen, and Deb and Mimi became even closer. Time has a way of marching on, though, and Mimi too soon reached her senior years, complete with a diagnosis of diabetes.

 That’s when Deb, the consummate pet owner, became the consummate caregiver. A person who takes on the care of a diabetic pet goes above and beyond. It truly becomes a job that requires a great deal of patience and dedication, and Deb was up to the task. For over three years, she carefully monitored Mimi’s diet, checked her urine glucose, and gave insulin injections twice a day. Unfortunately, one morning last week, Mimi’s time ran out and she died in our office before Deb could get there from work.

I was present in the exam room when Deb and her grand-daughter, Jasmine, said good-bye to their beloved Mimi. I’ve known Jasmine since she was a little girl, but until I observed her comforting Deb, I hadn’t realized what a fine, young woman she had become, with the same compassion and love for animals as her grandma. Even though this was a profoundly sad and humbling moment, the love I witnessed made me appreciate how fortunate I was to have chosen this as my life’s work.

            So Dr. Venzke, wherever you may be, if granted a second chance to answer your most important question, this is what I would say:

            “I want to be a veterinarian to help nice people with their animals; to educate and aid them in any way I can to provide the best care possible; to be allowed at least a small role in their family’s life and have them ask “What is the best pet for my children?”; to watch those children grow to love animals, as well, and when they have children, to have them ask the same question all over again. I also want to have the compassion to comfort owners when they grieve the loss of a pet, and embrace their joy when they allow another into their heart. That’s why I want to be a veterinarian, Dr. Venzke. That’s why.”


By Dr. John H. Jones

Top 10 Flea Myths

                                                                       

Think you know about fleas and their impact on your pet? Read these common myths to test your knowledge.

 

1.  Myth:  A few fleas are no big deal!

Reality:  You’ve heard the expression “breeding like rabbits”?  Well, rabbits have nothing on fleas-a few fleas can turn into a massive infestation in a hurry.  And if your pet is sensitive to flea antigen, even one or two bites can make him very uncomfortable.  Your pet deserves to be completely free of fleas.

 

2.  Myth:  Pets need flea preventive only a few months out of the year.

Reality:  In many warm, humid areas, fleas thrive year round.  Even in more seasonal climates, a warm spring or fall can extend the flea season to nine to 10 months of the year.  Plus, fleas can survive on your pet and inside anywhere!  Year-round flea control is best for your pet.

 

3.     Myth:  I’ve never seen a flea on my pet, so she doesn’t need flea control. 

Reality:  You may be in flea denial!  Just because you don’t see fleas, doesn’t mean that they aren’t there.  Our staff can use a special comb to detect fleas and their waste, so ask us to do this if we haven’t already.  Even if your pet’s clean, she can pick up fleas at any time, so it’s a good idea to protect her.

 

4.  Myth:  I can get good flea products at the pet store.

 

Reality:  Over-the-counter flea control products are not as potent and therefore, not as effective as the prescription products you can get from veterinarians.  Some are even toxic, especially if administered incorrectly.  We can prescribe the best product for your pet and his lifestyle (does he swim? hunt rodents?) and show you exactly how to apply it.

 

5.  Myth:  Once I treat my pet and the fleas go away, my work is done.  

Reality:  One of the biggest mistakes pet owners make is to stop giving a flea product after the fleas go away.  One of the reasons you need to provide continuous control is this:  Pets can become ultrasensitive to fleas if they’re intermittently exposed.  In other words, if you notice fleas, treat them, and three months later they come back, and then you treat them again and three months later they come back again, your pet is more likely to develop flea allergy dermatitis- a miserable condition that causes itchiness, lesions, and hair loss.  Don’t let the fleas come back at all, and your pet is at a much lower risk for flea allergy. 

 

6.  Myth:  I only need to treat my one flea-ridden pet, not the other pets in my household.

Reality:  All pets in your household need to be treated- especially the cats (fleas’ favorite host), and even the guinea pig.  Some pets are more sensitive to fleas than others, so if you treat only the pet that’s scratching, she’s likely to be reinfested by other pets that also have fleas but aren’t giving you any itchy signals.

 

7.  Myth:  I can’t afford to give a flea preventive monthly.

Reality:  Can you afford to change your oil in your car to keep it running smoothly and help cut down on expensive repairs?  Providing preventive health measures for your pet is that same approach.  Compared to the stress and cost of treating flea-related illnesses- and possibly paying someone to decontaminate your home-monthly control is a low-cost alternative.  If you can’t afford to pay for a year’s worth at a time, ask us about purchasing single doses.

 

8.  Myth:  My pet stays in the back yard, so he won’t pick up fleas.

Reality:  Your yard is constantly being visited by wildlife such as raccoons and opossums, as well as other neighborhood pets (cats are notorious roamers).  These animals can spread fleas and flea eggs, which can infest your pet when he goes outside.

 

9.  Myth:  All flea preventives protect pets from fleas only.

Reality:  Flea products are often combined with agents that control other parasites as well, helping protect your pets from additional diseases-some of which can be transmitted to you.  So keeping pets on flea control is best for the whole family.

 

10.  Myth:  Flea products are toxic!

 

Reality:  Unlike “natural” products, prescription flea control agents have been extensively tested and approved by the FDA.  Delphos Animal Hospital Veterinarians and staff members use these products on their own pets, and they can answer any questions you have about safety.

“I Don’t Always Bark, But When I Do…I Bark For Life!”

 

 

                 

                                 I want to make one point perfectly clear.  I do NOT have cancer, nor do I want to have cancer.  However, cancer has touched my life… in more ways than one.  For those who know me well, or even not so well, you probably know at least one fact about me.  I am passionate about “Finishing the Fight” against cancer.  In the spring of 2013 I found a way to combine my love of caring for pets and their people with my passion to prevent and cure cancers in both, through the Delphos Relay for Life mini-relay, “Bark for Life.”

                                The first question I am commonly asked is “What is Bark for Life?”  According to the American Cancer Society, “Bark for Life is a fundraising event honoring the life-long contributions of our Canine Caregivers.  It presents an opportunity for people to be empowered through their canine companion partnerships and to contribute to cancer cures thorough the mission of the American Cancer Society (ACS).”

                                More specifically, I would define the Delphos Bark for Life as a fun, easy way to raise money for the ACS by collecting donations from friends, family members, co-workers, business associates and even people you do not know, to take your dog(s) for a walk in beautiful , shady Leisure Park on a lovely, summer day in the middle of June.  And, to top it off, you get to enjoy FREE ice cream provided by Delphos’ Creamery, FREE brats and hotdogs grilled by cancer survivor Pam Wade, and a FREE pedicure for your  dog(s) courtesy of Elida Dog Grooming…all for an advanced  registration fee  of  $10.00 per dog!

                                Another question I am commonly asked is “Why?”  Why am I passionate about Bark for Life and why do I rally for Relay for Life?  When I first introduced the Bark for Life concept to my staff, I asked them to ask themselves “Who among us has not been touched by cancer?”  Several of my employees have lost parents or other relatives to cancer, and currently, one employee has a daughter fighting for her life and another just lost a sister because of cancer diagnoses.

                                More personally, my father died of oat cell carcinoma of his lungs, my husband’s father succumbed to lymphoma, and his maternal uncle lost a battle to leukemia.  With these loved ones in mind, why wouldn’t I rally?  Sadly, odds are that when we are rallying, the life we all may be fighting for could be our own, as cancer does not discriminate! 

                                Those who have attended the Delphos Bark for Life in the past would agree that it is not only a walk in the park for a great cause with your canine family member, but also a really good time in the company of other dog lovers.  You will enjoy seeing people smile as dogs congregate with tails wagging, eager for a walk and something new to stimulate them.

                                So, Delphos Bark for Life is something I AM passionate about because I have seen its success in raising almost $18,000 in just two years.  Delphos area ACS representatives have shared with me that my Delphos Bark for Life team has been a leader for the entire state of Ohio for funds raised and increasing awareness for this growing fundraiser.  I will be the first to sing the praises of my Delphos Animal Hospital staff family, as they have been phenomenal in their efforts to make Bark for Life a highly successful event for the Delphos Relay for Life.

                                By education and profession, I am a scientist.  I have learned and I believe that cancer is a mistake.  It is the result of a rogue cell in our bodies that gets away with murder. We need and must discover ways to stop or change these rogue cells, and turn them into cancer fighters instead.  Research funding is the key to turning the “bad guy” cells in to “good guys.” Cancer studies today are highly sophisticated and increasingly successful, but the need for them is never-ending, as cancer knows no boundaries.

                                I hope this gives you an understanding of why I am passionate about involving dogs in ACS fundraising through Bark for Life.  Please know that dogs and people are in cancer trials together and that canines DO benefit from cancer research as well.  In addition, I have surveyed cancer survivors as to how their pets helped them in their fight and their responses are always the same:  dogs demonstrate unconditional love, bring  joy and security, and they do not judge.  In short, just as cancer doesn’t discriminate, dogs don’t either.

                                Will we see you and your dog at Delphos Bark for Life? 

 

By Dr. Bonnie Jones                            

           

 

 

 

The Lesson of Barack Orama

                                             

            Until Barack Orama was born, I had never raised anything other than white Southdown lambs. He changed that, if you haven’t already guessed. As for his name, I hope it doesn’t offend anyone because I know at least a few readers are fans of his namesake. I also know that a good deal more are not. But with a brother named Joe, and being a ram, what else was I going to call him?

            I was present for Barack’s birth. As the seemingly lifeless lamb emerged from his mother, all slimy and black, my first reaction was, “Uh-oh, this can’t be good.” I had seen dark lambs like this before, and it usually meant they had been dead for quite awhile. A brief pause and vigorous shake later, however, little Barack was very much alive.

            My next concern was the ewe. Although this was her fourth lambing, she didn’t exactly earn “mother of the year” honors on her first go-round, and probably would have been on my infamous “list”, had my wife’s husband not paid way too much money for her own mother. The last two years she’s done a great job with her lambs; my anxiety this time stemmed from wondering how she would bond to the uniquely shaded baby. Happily, she never missed a lick, for Barack, or his older brother, Joe, and seemed to love both equally.

Two days later, the family was moved to a larger pen containing three other ewes and their lambs, and I witnessed a behavior I hadn’t seen before. Instantly and in unison, the heads and ears of all three ewes went up, and their front legs went rigid into “stomp-mode.” I imagine they saw in Barack a dog or coyote. Fortunately, this passed within a few seconds when they realized he was not, and there were no more incidents.

That’s not to say Barack’s early days were all “kumbaya.” After Barack and his family were released into what I call the “general population” of ewes and lambs, he kept to himself, and didn’t interact and form friendships with non-sibling lambs like so many of them do. At night, most of the lambs would lounge in the corners of the pen, often two or three deep, making skin contact to stay warm. Barack never did that. I found this odd, and as it was early March and still dreadfully cold, also sad.

Those feelings evaporated a few mornings later. While rounding a gate-post during chore-time, I was nearly run over by a romping band of lambs led by young Mr. Orama. Apparently, with familiarity came acceptance, and Barack was now just one of the pack, except I always knew who he was, no eartags required.

  So where did Barack get the black wool? From his parents, of course, and the intricacies of genetics. Wool genetics, with many natural colors, plus patterns such as spots and facial stripes, is a complicated and mind-boggling science. Yet, a solid black lamb like Barack is the result of a simple recessive gene, one inherited from each parent.

If you recall from biology class, a gene is the basic unit of heredity passed from parent to offspring. Located on a chromosome, a gene is actually a distinct sequence of building blocks called nucleotides. It is thought that 3.2 billion of these nucleotides make up the human genome. I’m not sure how many make up the sheep genome, but since sheep have 54 chromosomes compared to the human 46, there’s likely to be as many, if not more. It is the specific order of these nucleotides that make every living thing what it is. A change in\the sequence of even one can produce dramatic effects, such as making what should have been a white lamb have black wool.         

When studied at the molecular level, the genetic differences which made Barack look like Barack, and Joe look like all the other lambs, are infinitesimally small. The traits they share as brothers and sheep vastly exceed those which set them apart.                                                                                                                                                                                                     

            People are a lot like that, too. It has been estimated that we humans share 99.9% of our genetic material. What this means is that in spite of all our various shapes and sizes, skin colors, hair colors, eye colors, and, perhaps, even choice of partner, the things we have in common far, far outweigh any differences between us.

 

By Dr. John H. Jones