Brushing Up on Pet Dental Care

Stephanie Groves, DHI Media Staff Writer

                Bacteria and plaque-forming foods can cause build-up on a pet’s teeth, which can harden, resulting in tartar, gingivitis, receding gums and tooth loss. One solution is regular dental cleanings.

                A pet’s “bad breath” or chronic halitosis may be a sign of a serious health risk, with the potential to damage not only Fido or Fluffy’s teeth and gums, but also their internal organs.

               In recognition of National Pet Dental Health Month, veterinarians address the significance of proactive oral care for all pets all year round but especially during the month of February. Delphos Animal Hospital’s Dr. Bonnie Jones, D.V.M., said National Pet Dental Health Month is an annual event when veterinarians may do promotions or offer discounts to increase awareness for pet dental care.

               “We want to emphasize that pet dental care is most effective when done on a daily basis and that dental cleanings should be done all year round, not just in February,” Jones said. “Many pet owners think that giving their pets tartar-control food and treats alone is adequate. We find that doing multiple things, including daily toothbrushing or wiping, providing hard rubber chew toys and dental treats, or using water additives, when all done together is most helpful. In the end, the pet owner needs to discover what is easiest to do for their pet’s dental care, while being certain to do it daily. Anything that provides mild abrasive action to the teeth will be helpful but it needs to be done regularly; once weekly or once monthly will not be effective.”

              She explained with dogs, daily toothbrushing is ideal using fingerbrushes, dental wipes or a small toothbrush.

“With cats, it’s a little trickier since they have fewer, smaller teeth and it’s harder to get brushes into their mouths,” Jones explained. “Cat dental care is best accomplished using flavored dental wipes or gauze. There are flavored toothpastes for dogs and cats as well. For some pets, especially cats, using gauze dipped in chicken broth, tuna, or clam juice works really well, as the flavoring provides a positive experience for the pet.”  It all comes down to what works best for the pet owner and pet.

              “Before a client leaves the veterinary hospital with their pet after a professional dental cleaning, we educate them on the importance of and techniques for providing pet dental care to prolong the benefits of the cleaning,” Jones said.

Dr. Marisa Tong, associate veterinarian at Delphos Animal Hospital, added that the sooner pet owners get started cleaning their pet’s teeth, the better.

             “Never use human toothpaste, as it can make pets sick,” Tong said. “Even though the mint flavored/smelling pet toothpastes make a pet’s breath smell better, poultry flavored is often preferred by the pet.”

The ASPCA and Dr. Jones recommend taking these steps to make brushing easier for both the pet and pet owner:

• A veterinary exam before beginning any preventive pet dental health program will be helpful as your veterinarian can make suggestions for a dental cleaning or what will work best for your pet. If your pet already has dental disease, brushing can be painful, setting the dental health program up for failure.

• Most importantly, acclimate your dog or cat to toothbrushing at an early age by massaging the pet’s lips with your fingers in a circular motion for 30 to 60 seconds once or twice a day for a few weeks. Then move on to the teeth and gums.

• When your pet seems comfortable with mouth handling, put a little flavored pet toothpaste or a paste of baking soda and water on the lips to get it accustomed to the taste.

• Next, introduce a toothbrush designed especially for pets — it should be smaller than a human toothbrush and have soft bristles. Fingerbrushes or pet dental wipes that you can apply over your finger are also available for cats and smaller mouths.

• Finally, apply the toothpaste to the teeth using a gentle abrasive action.

                Tong said it is ideal to “flip the lip” and perform dental assessments every six months and dental cleanings annually.  “Dogs and cats that have annual cleanings live longer and carry less bacteria in their mouths,” Tong explained. “It’s recommended to anesthetize cats and dogs for ultrasonic dental cleanings. Some pets, especially smaller pets and those on soft food diets may need ultrasonic cleanings more often.”

               During a dental cleaning, the patient is given an injectable anesthetic then intubated (an endotracheal tube is placed inside the wind pipe of an anesthetized patient). The endotracheal tube is then connected to a breathing circuit used to administer oxygen and inhalant anesthetics.The patient is monitored for heart rate and oxygen levels in the blood via equipment and veterinary staff members throughout the procedure.

              Registered Veterinary Technician (RVT) Angela Unverferth added ultrasonic scaling uses a rapidly vibrating metal probe and cooling water mist to remove plaque and tartar on the surface of the pet’s teeth and below the gumline.

“A routine cleaning takes about 30-45 minutes,” Unverferth said. “I start with the backside of the teeth and work forward.”

After the cleaning, the patient’s teeth are polished and a dental sealant can be applied to slow the expected recurrence of plaque.

             “There are once-weekly dental sealant (Oravet) applications available for pet owners to use at home as well,” Tong explained. “We also make the best use of time when a pet is under anesthesia by doing toenail trims, ear cleanings and anal gland expressions as courtesy services included with our dental cleanings.”  Tong said the patient is slowly awakened once the last phase of the polishing begins so as not to keep it under anesthesia any longer than necessary.

             “Once the patient is off inhalation anesthetics, they begin breathing room air and must start swallowing before we extubate (remove) the endotracheal tube,” Tong detailed. “The patient will begin breathing more deeply as they are becoming more awake.”  The patient is then transferred into a recovery area where he/she is further monitored by staff.

              Jones also wants pet owners to be aware of the dangers of allowing Fido or Fluffy to play with, gnaw on or ingest certain dangerous toys or foodstuffs.

              “Dogs sustain many tooth fractures from chewing on items sold as toys. Nylon toys, pig’s ears, deer antlers and thick soup or knuckle bones can readily cause damage to pet dental enamel, even though it is the hardest surface in the body,” Jones explained. “Soup bones may get lodged around a pet’s lower jaw behind the fangs. We’ve had to saw these bones off from around the jaw with the pet under anesthesia.”

              Also, after chewing on and breaking chew bones, pets can get pieces stuck between their teeth and/or lodged in the roof of their mouths. They also have a likelihood of becoming obstructions in the intestinal tract or causing gastrointestinal inflammation and/or constipation,” Jones said.

Keeping Man’s Best Friend Healthy

Delphos Animal Hospital, Lima Police Work Together for Canine Unit

By Kate Ellis
kellis@the419.com

LIMA – Police dogs often stand in between officers and criminals, and just like their human counterparts, injury in the line of duty is a possibility. So when Ron Conner, who has since retired, became the first sergeant of the canine unit at the Lima Police Department, he chose to ask a veterinarian he was familiar with to take care of the dogs.

Thirteen years later the Lima Police Department still works with the Delphos Animal Hospital, which provides emergency care in the event of trauma, as well as preventative care for the canine unit. Both parties agree the relationship is great.

“In the event that there would be a canine related injury, we usually contact them and advise them of the circumstances,” said Nick Hart, a sergeant with the canine unit at the Lima Police Department. “It’s been my experience that they have us rush the dogs right out, regardless of what their appointment schedule is.”

Although it is rare for the dogs to be injured, Lima Police have a direct line to the hospital, so if anything does happen care can quickly be administered.

“They seem to make us a very high priority,” Hart said. “We trust them a lot.”

Grizz, a 2-year-old male German Shepherd dog, was the most recent injury that happened in the line of duty. The injury occurred during the apprehension of a suspect police believed to be involved in a Dollar General burglary. The suspect had fled and officers gave chase, along with Grizz. When the suspect dove under a porch Grizz was sent underneath to follow him. The suspect began to punch and kick him in the face, still trying to escape.

Grizz eventually was able to get ahold of the suspect’s leg, and held him. At that point the suspect was apprehended, and placed in handcuffs.

Grizz had been struck in the muzzle, and had minor injuries from the scuffle.

“Initially there was some bleeding around (Grizz’s) teeth,” Hart said. “That’s what lead to the concern that he would need to get checked by the vet.” When an injury occurs handlers are able to communicate to the hospital, and the hospital can determine if the dog needs to be seen.

“His handler paged us through our emergency line,” Dr. Bonnie Jones, veterinarian and co-owner of the Delphos Animal Hospital, said. “I asked him a series of questions over the phone. It was apparent the dog was acting very normally, with no visible wounds, but he described that he had been kicked pretty hard, so that may not necessarily show up.”

Grizz was brought to the hospital the next morning. “The dog, by all rights, probably should have been sore,” Jones said. “He was pretty unscathed. We watched him walk, he was appropriate with his commands, didn’t show any pain when we checked him over.”

Grizz was deemed healthy, and he was eager to go back to work.

While always available in a time of injury, the hospital also provides primary care: check-ups, health screenings for potential new dogs, and recommendations for diet. In addition the hospital has provided skin care for allergies and dealt with kidney disease. Dental care and eye care is also important for the dogs. Eyesight is important for the dogs; handlers rely on their vision. Jones has trained handlers to look for signs of eye failure, as well as other medical issues.

“We help (the handlers) do the health part of their jobs for the dogs,” Jones said. “I’ve trained them how to pass stomach tubes, they all carry stomach tubes in their vehicles. That’s an emergency that German Shepherds and other deep chested dogs would experience.”

The 13-year relationship between the Delphos Animal Hospital and the Lima Police Department began as a personal one. Conner, now retired, had begun to take his own pets to the hospital for care. After getting familiar with the practice, he asked if the hospital would be willing to begin taking care of the canine unit. Jones and her husband, who is co-owner and also a veterinarian at Delphos Animal Hospital, agreed.

“The dogs change, the handlers change, but they are all very consistent in their roles, handling the dogs, and caring for the dogs,” Jones said. “It has been a very positive relationship, I don’t think there is anything I would change about it.”

The dogs mean a lot to the canine handlers, which makes the relationship between the two important. Hart has a 6-year-old male named Bailey.

“Honestly, I’d feel naked without him,” Hart said. “He is your partner every day and every night for the last four years, no matter what I’m doing he is with me. At least a couple times, if not for him we may have had to resort to a lethal force situation. They keep me out of trouble.”

Jones knows how important the dogs are to their handlers.

“When they have had, what the handler deemed an emergency, I mean these dogs are like their kids, and you have to reassure them just as you would any pet owner that their kid is okay,” Jones said.

A Car Wreck and the Miracle Cat

It all happened so quickly. It sounds cliché, but life can change in an instant. It was a dark and icy night. I was driving. And then I wasn’t. I had both hands clutching the steering wheel and traveling at a responsible speed. But that ice-covered curvy country road proved too much for my little car that wintry night. As I went careening off the road and into the ditch I couldn’t even begin to tell you what was going through my mind other than a bit of resolve that I had no control of the situation and a healthy dose of panic.

I had collided with a telephone pole and at some point my airbags had gone off. I don’t remember that happening — again, it all happened so quickly. After a few moments as the landscape was suddenly at a new angle out of my front windshield I tried to collect my thoughts to devise a plan of action. My driver’s side door wouldn’t budge — the telephone pole that I had hit ensured that. I saw a few pairs of headlights go by — and as I started crawling out the passenger side someone finally stopped to help.

The Good Samaritans who stopped had called the sheriff’s department for me and stayed with me until they showed up. Long story short — living in this part of the country, you’re always sure to come across someone you know. It turns out that these two do-gooders were clients of mine and they actually had an appointment for me to spay their cat in two days’ time.

As a veterinarian, I am blessed to get to see a lot of people and pets during my day. And as much as I would love to say that I have a photographic memory for every single one of the pets and people that touch my life — I am only human. I don’t always connect people with their pets especially outside of the office. But the Good Samaritans’ cat was a memorable one.

I first met Barney, the girl kitten, when she was a tiny mite of a thing. She was a few ounces short of a pound and had been rejected by her mother. She had every type of parasite you could think of, an upper respiratory infection, conjunctivitis and an awfully long road ahead of her if she was going make it to adulthood. Her owners took this information with aplomb and set about following my instructions to the letter.

It’s generally a well-known fact that God makes a lot of kittens for a reason. Many of them do not make it to adulthood — especially if they are facing the infections and parasites that Barney had to battle. Their tiny bodies and developing immune systems often can not handle these afflictions. When kittens are as young and sick as Barney was when I first met her, it often doesn’t end well no matter the best of our intentions.

I can safely say Barney would likely never have made it if it weren’t for Damien. Damien is the young man who had taken it upon himself to care for the tiny little creature. He hand fed her and gave her all of the medicine and treatments as directed. With every successive office visit I remember being completely impressed with her medical progress and Damien’s ability to care for her.

Barney is happy and healthy now and a feisty little thing. Damien is also the young man who had helped me out in my hour of need. He gave up his seat in the warm van on the side of the icy road while we waited for the sheriff. The same young man had also worked diligently to save a tiny kitten.

I walked away from that accident, and I know that I am incredibly blessed. It could have ended a lot worse. For someone whose daily job is to help those creatures who can’t always help themselves, it is extremely humbling and uplifting to meet so many truly good people like Damien who are willing to put forth incredible effort for one so helpless — and to know that I have guardian angels like him looking out for me as well. 

Author:  Dr. Marisa Tong

Of Wales and Border Collies

 

                        I want to thank all the Welsh people who called or wrote after my last column.  By Welsh people, I don’t just mean descendants who live around here, I mean people actually from Wales.

                        Mrs. Alice Bushong of Elida sent my column to her cousin, Annie Gwendoline Jones, who lives in Aberhosan, a village in the valley just south of mine, on the other side of Geoff’s mountain.  She in turn showed it to a friend of hers, Mr. Emyr Roberts of Machynlleth.  He wrote me a very nice letter, and said it was heartbreaking that I was so close and didn’t get to meet them.  Someday I hope to make him regret writing that.  Our world is not as big as you think.

                        To Linda from Celina:  Everyone we encountered in Wales spoke English, and most spoke at least some Welsh.  We did hear a Welsh conversation in a restaurant in Machynlleth, but I have no idea what they said---hopefully, it didn’t have anything to do with food poisoning.  At one stop we made, I did have my own private Welsh tutor, although I’m not exactly sure what I learned.

                        Regrettably, we only had two full travel days in Wales.  In the last column, I described what we did on the first day.  Today, I want to tell about the second.

                        Our journey began with a stop at “Ewe-phoria,” a sheep and sheepdog education center, just a few miles from Johanna’s bed and breakfast near Corwen.  It was run by Aled Owen, a famous sheepdog trainer whose dog, “Bob,” was a three-time world champion.  “Bob” is semi-retired now, and we didn’t get to see him.  But, Aled had another dog, “Gwen,” who was younger and was used for the sheepdog demonstrations.

                        For those of you who have never seen a Border Collie herd sheep, their style is not unlike that of a wolf stalking its prey.  Actually, it’s exactly like that, only controlled…hopefully.

                        Most Border Collies have what is called “eye,” a hypnotic stare that they utilize when herding stock.  Some dogs are “strong-eyed,” some are “loose.”  Gwen was a loose-eyed dog.  He did what he was supposed to do, and got the job done, but he didn’t look at the sheep much.  Gwen wasn’t a very “flashy” worker.

                        The downside of a dog that is too strong-eyed is that all they want to do is lay down and stare at the sheep.  It’s hard to get them to move, thus limiting their usefulness to the shepherd.  Most handlers want a dog that is kind of in the middle, a dog like my own future international champion, “Robbie.”

                        From “Ewe-phoria,” we set out for what would be the highlight of my brother-in-law Gary’s Welsh experience, Caernarfon Castle.  Gary was really into castles and any kind of ruin that resembled a castle.

                        On the way to Caernarfon, we spotted a ruin near the little town of Llanberis, which was very close to Mount Snowdon.  We parked our car, and had to walk a short distance to get to the ruin, or as Cindy, Bonnie’s sister, liked to call them, “roo-wens.”  Along the road we were taking, we spotted a couple of farmers who were using two Border Collies to herd a group of sheep into a small pen in the corner of a field.

                        Cindy and Gary wanted to get to their “roo-wen,” but Bonnie and I hung back to watch the dogs.  I really liked how the dogs worked---they had the right amount of “eye.”  We watched from afar for a few minutes before mustering the courage to get a closer look.  The men seemed cautious as we approached, but they warmed up immediately after I introduced myself.  Evidently, being “John Jones from Ohio” opens up quite a few doors in Wales.  I don’t know why.

                        Mr. Owen and Mr. Jones were treating the sheep for “footrot,” a contagious bacterial infection that attacks sheep feet and makes them very lame.  Footrot was a problem everywhere we traveled to in Wales and Ireland.  Apparently, all the rain is good for the grass, but bad for sheep feet.

                        The farmers were trimming the feet very short and applying a topical medication.  I probably violated international veterinary practice acts when I suggested that they also give the sheep an injection of LA-200 as an additional therapy.  LA-200, an antibiotic, will remain in the sheep’s system for three days, providing a longer treatment without the sheep having to be re-caught.  They had never used this drug for footrot before, but said they might try it in the future.

                        I also told them how much I liked how their dogs herded the sheep, and I could tell both were pleased by that.  Mr. Jones proudly exclaimed that he had just sold the father of one of the dogs for 4000 pounds, which is a little under $8000… I thought they were good dogs.

                        Mr. Owen was an older man, and much more talkative.  He was also a very willing tutor and tried to teach me some Welsh words.  He said I had a very good accent; I guess I must have spit on him, such is the nature of the language.

                        I hesitate to try to reproduce any of the words here because every time Mr. Owen would teach me a new one, Mr. Jones would giggle.  I thought he was teaching me things like “How are you,” “please,” and “thank you,” but in case it wasn’t really “thank you,” we’ll just let it go at that.

                        After a few minutes of chatting with Mr. Owen, I could sense Mr. Jones getting a little impatient; they still had quite a few more sheep to treat.  One of his expensive dogs “rolled over” a couple of the sheep while they were waiting.  I guess the dog was getting a little impatient as well.

                        So we thanked them for the visit, and said our “good-byes,” I think, and caught up with Cindy and Gary at the “roo-wen.”  Then, it was off to the very massive and well-preserved Caernarfon Castle.

                        My only regret about our stay in Wales, besides the short time, was that I didn’t “ask the Welsh.”

                        Before I started training my puppy, “Robbie,” I had read a book called “A Way of Life,” by H. Glyn Jones, another famous Welsh dog trainer.  From the book, I couldn’t tell where he lived, but I knew he had gone to sheep dog trials in Ruthin and Llangollen, which were not far from Johanna’s house.  Since we had come so far and I didn’t want to miss him if he happened to be her next door neighbor, I asked Johanna if she knew him.  “Oh my God, no!  Go ask the Welsh!” was her reply.

                        But, I didn’t.  It was just one of those “woulda, coulda, shoulda” things that I wish I had done.  And, Aled surely would have known him---he was in the book.  I guess I didn’t ask Aled because “Ewe-phoria” was his “stage,” and I hated to ask him about another trainer while he was on his own stage.

                        So, if any of you know Glyn Jones, tell him “John Jones from Ohio” was asking about him.  And thank him for the great book.

                        Wales was magnificent; it was everything we had hoped it would be.  Mind you, we spent all of our time in North and mid-Wales.  I hear the southern part is more industrialized, and maybe not as idyllic.  But, where we were it was, it most absolutely was.

                        At the end of my last column, I compared my two valleys, and I thought my “valley” in Ohio was “greener.”  It probably is, but there is something about the other that I just can’t get past---something about it that keeps pulling me back.

                        I also wondered how my great-grandparents could have ever left a place like that.  Heck, I don’t even know how I did. 

 

Author:  Dr. John Jones, December 2005

 

Confessions of a Killer

 

            I am a killer. My father was a killer. My brother is a killer. My niece is a killer. My wife is a killer.

            If you read that aloud with a gruff, almost grunting, British accent, you might think I was rehashing a scene from HBO’s “Game of Thrones,” featuring a nefarious character fittingly called “The Hound.”  No, I was simply overdramatizing a task we veterinarians are often called upon to perform- euthanasia.

            I must confess, though, I do watch that show. Like most HBO programs, “Game of Thrones” has its fair share of gratuitous sex and violence, but I don’t watch it for that. I watch it for the acting. Seriously.

            My friend, Dr. John Dodam, who teaches at the University of Missouri, when talking with his students about the different pathways taken to become a veterinarian, likes to mention his former classmate who was a theatre major. Let me clarify that point. He wasn’t a theatre major; he only took a couple of classes, okay maybe four, for the Humanities requirements. Besides, he thought they might ameliorate a shyness problem, and help give him a voice.

            As for euthanasia, I know I write about it and death way too much in these columns, which is ironic because I’m actually a pretty happy, optimistic guy. But veterinarians deal with death almost on a daily basis; in fact it’s a rare day when we don’t. To put things in perspective, consider that we care for our patients for about the same length of time a pediatrician does, except when our patients come of age, they don’t graduate from high school, they die. Thus exposed is the one major flaw of our dog and cat friends - they don’t live long enough. In spite of their short lives, many tell a compelling story. After all, death is but the final act in the drama that is a life.

             Saresa joined our family more than fifteen years ago. She was found at the bottom of a window well behind our office on a cold, rainy day in November. The long-haired, gray and white kitten, soggy and hungry, looked pathetic, but was otherwise healthy. With a little care, she grew to be a beautiful cat, regal in appearance and attitude, and soon became Queen of our house.

             Unfortunately for Saresa, like in “Camelot,” her reign was short- lived as she became what we call an inappropriate eliminator, meaning she took to urinating on our bedspread to show her disapproval of another family cat. Though thrown out of the palace, she was given the keys to a new kingdom- the barn. She seemed to enjoy her new life, and claimed the central part of the barn, where the food-bowl was kept, as her new domain.

             With the passage of time, a substantial weight gain, an arthritic shuffle, and an unkempt barn-coat, she came to resemble “Grizabella,” the former glamour star from the musical “Cats.” This summer, however, she began to lose weight even as her appetite was voracious.

               A simple blood test revealed hyperthyroidism, and further exam, a mass on her thyroid gland. Medication to counteract the increased thyroid hormone seemed to help for awhile, but with winter coming on and her condition failing rapidly, she was moved to her new assisted living home above our office.

              Sadly, it wasn’t long before food became not a friend, but something to avoid, and when the lump in her throat made it difficult to breathe, Saresa let us know it was time. I sat beside her on her loveseat, gently gave her an anesthetic injection, then held and petted her as she drifted off. When she was in a deep plane of sleep, the euthanasia solution was administered, and within two beats of her heart she was gone- her death peaceful, painless, and quick.

             A death can be beautiful. My mom taught me that on April 12, 1991. Although profoundly weakened by her chronic disease, she was aware and in control until very near the end. We had a final goodbye, a final “I love you”, even a final wave. I’ll never forget her skinny little arm and hand rising above the blankets. Of course, the memory makes me sad, but it also makes me smile. The wave was so her.

             I want to die like that, with dignity and grace. But if I can’t, truth be told, I wouldn’t mind going like the cat. 

            I am proud to be a veterinarian, and I’m grateful I have the ability, the resources, and society’s blessing to end the pain and suffering of my patients. Every life and every story should have a good ending.

Author:  Dr. John Jones

“How Green Is Your Valley”

 

                        “How Green Was My Valley,” a 1941 movie starring Walter Pidgeon, Maureen O’Hara, and a young Roddy McDowall, told the heartwarming and sometimes tragic story of a Welsh coalmining family in the late 1800’s.  I had always wanted to see this movie, but could never find it on TV or in a video store.  A couple of years ago my wife did locate it, I think in a catalogue, and gave it to me for my birthday.  Although kind of corny and schmaltzy by today’s standards, it nevertheless was about my people, and according to the video jacket, “one of the best films ever made.”

                         Last week, I had the opportunity to see how green my valley really was.  My wife and I, and her sister and brother-in-law, went “on holiday” as they say, to Ireland and Wales, homelands of some of our ancestors. 

                        Three years ago, my Uncle Hugh wrote his autobiography, telling not just the story of his life for his children and grandchildren, but also as much as he knew or could find out about our ancestors.  Although not a New York booklist bestseller, it did make mention of me, so is, therefore, one of my favorite books.

                        Included in this book were several old photos including a grainy snapshot of some buildings and mountains with “Melinbyrhedyn” written across the top front of the picture.  The largest building, a church, was the birthplace of my great-grandmother Jones, Mary E. Thomas.  Her father was the sexton of the church building, and they lived in a tiny dwelling built on the rear.

                        All four of us had goals for this trip.  Gary wanted to see castles, the Egan sisters wanted to do an “Amazing Race” tour of Ireland, and myself, all I wanted to do was find this 130 year old picture.

                        We stayed three nights in Wales, near Corwen, in an old hunting lodge -  manor house run by a somewhat uptight Englishwoman named Johanna, who I think could have used a little more “fibre” in her diet.

                        What she lacked in warmth and hospitality, however, she made up for by having a really good map, a map far better than any of the ones we had, a map that had a little, bitty unnamed road leading to a little, bitty village called Melinbyrhedyn.  And, God bless her, Johanna let us borrow it.

                        We drove for about an hour and a half southwest through some of the most beautiful countryside and mountains you could ever imagine.  And sheep!  There were literally millions of them.  It was heaven if you like sheep, and I think you know I do.  Most were of the Welsh Mountain breed, but as we got closer to Machynlleth, close to my ancestral village, we saw more and more Welsh Hill Speckled sheep, a stylish breed with distinct black markings on their faces.

                        Based on the map, we drove through Machynlleth, and took the first left out of town.  We quickly passed a little golf course that made the Delphos Country Club look like Augusta National.  But I bet they don’t have sheep greenskeepers at Augusta like they do in Machynlleth.

                        About a mile later we came to a fork in the road.  A weathered wooden sign, bearing the name “Melinbyrhedyn,” pointed down a one lane road that can only be described as a “hedge tunnel.”

                        This road led up a hill, and at the top of the hill we crossed over a cattle guard, which I thought was a little strange, as there were no cattle in sight.  As we rumbled over the guard, the hedges gave way and we could see the valley below.  The hills were covered mostly with bracken fern, and there was a little river running on the valley floor.

                        On the far side of the river sat a tiny village, and as we made our way down the hill, comparing the mountain pattern in the old photo to the mountain pattern before us, it was evident that I was “home.”

                        The stone church wasn’t very large, but its lines were still straight and true.  A stone at the peak showed that it was built in 1851; my great-grandmother was “built” in 1857.  We snooped around the church a bit, and knocked on the door of the residence in the rear, but nobody was home.

                        In fact, it didn’t seem like anyone was home anywhere.  We continued our snooping down the lane behind the church, and were very close to the neighbor’s house when I heard a somewhat apprehensive “Hellooo.”  I looked up to see a mop of gray hair and a pair of piercing blue eyes peering over the wooden fence around the patio.

                        “Hello, I’m John Jones from Ohio.  Would you like to see what your house looked like 130 years ago?”  I said as I held up Uncle Hugh’s book for the man to see.  The apprehension withdrew from his face, and was replaced with a big smile and a “Would you come in for tea?”

                        One would think that the highlight of my trip would be finding the church.  The real highlight was meeting Geoff.  Geoff and his wife, Margaret, were just the nicest people.  Geoff was a retired engineer from England, and they had first come to Melinbyrhedyn in 1982 to visit a friend-and never really left.

                        They were, that day we were there, actually unpacking and moving into the house they had used as a “holiday house” for years, to live in Melinbyrhedyn permanently, and to increase the population to eight.

                        Yet, they took the time to chat with us, show us old photos that looked eerily like mine, and gave us some refreshing tea.

                        During our conversation, Geoff mentioned that he had heard us coming down the hill...Aha! I knew it.  That cattle guard wasn’t for cows, it was for us.  The guard was their “community watch” program.

                        As we were saying our goodbyes, Geoff asked if we would do him a favor.  At the fork in the road, he wanted us to take a left and climb up the mountain before going back to Machynlleth.  “Please do it for me,” was the last thing I remember him saying.  As we drove up the hill, it felt good knowing the village was in such good hands.

                        We did exactly as Geoff said.  And, oh my!  The view from the top was the most magnificent and beautiful thing I have ever seen.  Mountains and sheep for as far as you could see.  Thank you, Geoff, for this great gift.

                        Although we only stayed for a few minutes, it seemed like dozens of thoughts raced through my head.  I wondered if my own sheep would like to live on this mountain.  I thought of my dad, and how much I wished he were here to see all this beauty, and of course I thought of my great-grandparents.  How could they have ever left a place such as this?

                        But leave they did. With three little boys, they came to Venedocia sometime before 1882, the year my grandpa was born.  He was the first American-born Jones.

                        How green was my valley?  Pretty darn. But as we came down the mountain, I realized it wasn’t as green as my valley here in Ohio.  I don’t know what forces drove my great-grandparents from Wales, whether it was the abject poverty of the mines, or just the hope of something better in America, but I do know that their decision to leave had a profoundly positive effect on my life.  America has been very good to my family and me, and for that, I am forever grateful.

                        The choices you make can affect generations to come.  Make good ones.

Author:  Dr. John Jones, September 2005

Veterinary Clients are Truly Inspirational

                                I have been writing these columns for 12 years now, which equates to multiple generations of my own four-legged family members.  Writing is one of my greatest passions, next to caring for pets and their people.  I took the opportunity to learn journalism during my high school years, but much to my father’s dismay, I chose veterinary medicine for my lifelong career instead.

                                One of the biggest challenges for journalists is repeatedly coming up with fresh topics to write about.  Or, as I like to describe it, “being inspired.”  My husband and I have both realized over the years that writing about what you have experienced, observed and know is always easiest and most entertaining. 

                                Where is this leading?  To my clients, of course.  They both inspire and provide me with thought provoking material to write about every day and, admittedly, some inspire me more than others.

                                Over the past 30 years, I have assisted multiple pets across “The Rainbow Bridge.”  Just when I think it can’t get more difficult for pet owners to “let go,” another heart-wrenching experience comes along.  Such was the case of Kelly and Dave Frost when they had to make the difficult, but necessary decision to say “good-bye” to “Jack,” their beloved, kind-hearted Golden Retriever, following  a 16 month battle with cancer.

                                “Jack” was infinitely blessed to be adopted by a family who loved him to the nth degree and always provided him with the best veterinary care possible.  Kelly and Dave also sent Jack to “military school” (a.k.a. obedience training) to help him be the best dog he could be.  He was gifted with a fellow Golden Retriever, “Riley,” to remind him he was a dog, followed by two lovely children to play with and watch over as they grew.  With a family he adored and frequent trips to the lake, Jack’s life truly was “golden.”

                                 I am forever inspired by how Kelly and Dave consistently give careful consideration to what is best for all of their dogs in their hour of need.   So, when Jack was diagnosed with multiple myeloma (cancer of the bone marrow), there was no question they would do whatever it would take to prolong a good quality life for him.  They made frequent, sometimes weekly, trips to Ohio State’s veterinary oncology department for evaluation and testing.  Jack’s test results were numbers that became all too familiar to them.

                                Gratefully, the Frosts experienced the joy of Jack’s cancer remission, then the fight to maintain it with multiple changes in his chemotherapy regimen.  But, at all points in time, they were ever mindful of what was best for Jack, as well as the fact that his battle would have to end.  Being certain that the fight was indeed over when the time came was of utmost concern for them.  So when a final trip to Ohio State made it clear that the end was near, Kelly and Dave brought Jack home to be with him in his final hour of need.

                                The common question for pet owners caring for end of life pets is always the same:  “Am I making the right decision to ‘let go?’” when given the choice.  Of course, this was the Frost’s debate as well.  I reassured them when the time came for Jack to leave us, their decision would be and was the greatest act of love of all. 

                                I know Jack’s family continues to struggle with his loss because he was more than a precious family pet.  In talking with them during many visits and phone calls, it was more than apparent that he was their “Heart Dog.” “Heart Dogs” dig in a little deeper and the loss is incredibly more painful.

                                I, too, have had a “Heart Dog.”  The pain associated with the loss seemed like it would never end.  But it did…several months later when my husband placed a new puppy in my lap.  Painful as it may seem, I hope you have a “Heart Dog,” too, because “How lucky I am to have something that makes saying good-bye so hard.”---A.A. Milne Winnie-the-Pooh                 

Thank you to the families of “Rusty” Becker, “Miss Lena Grace” Robinson, “Layla” Roach, “Kirby” Bowersock and, of course, “Jack” Frost.  You truly inspire me.

Author:  Dr. Bonnie Jones