The gift of text....

I was recently told I had the 'gift of text.' In short order, that means I write a lot. I also talk a lot. This past weekend, I did a lot of listening. Thought I would share with you my experiences (through my gift of text.) :)

It all started with an unusual house call. As a vet, I make a lot of farm calls to deal with cows, horses, etc, but I also make house calls for dogs and cats. The most common house call I make is generally to put someone's pet to sleep for them. Letting a beloved pet pass on in its own bed is comforting to a lot of people - the pet doesn't have to deal with the added stress of coming to the clinic. It's much harder emotionally on me and my staff going into the family's home, but it's a service that I'm proud we offer.

Sometimes we also make house calls to do routine vaccines for multiple pets - instead of owners having the hassle of bringing 4 or 5 pets to us, we go to them. I always take along a technician to assist me - owners are not allowed to hold their pets as I'm examining them or giving them injections. I don't like getting bit. My staff ensures that I don't get bit.

I am going somewhere with this - hang with me.

Last Wednesday I was asked to go on a house call to vaccinate twenty dogs. Yes, that right. Twenty. 20. I was asked to do this by our local animal control officer. You see, in our county, you are only allowed to have 4 dogs max unless you have a kennel license. In order to get a kennel license, all dogs have to be healthy, vaccinated, and licensed with the county. These dogs were healthy, but not vaccinated or licensed. So, they were in a bit of a panic to get them so or else the county would take them away. There were a myriad of phone calls to this owner from my clinic - and the long and short of it is that I knew I was heading into an unusual circumstance. They could not give me directions to their house. They could not tell us the names of all the dogs. They could not tell us what breed of dogs they were. The animal control officer (who is a good friend of mine) asked me to call him when I was leaving to go out there - he wanted to meet me there to ensure my safety. He described them as 'unusual people' and some of the dogs were very large and he feared, quite vicious. He means well, but sometimes he underestimates me. :)

We were told that some of the dogs (12, in fact) were chihuahuas. The rest were large mixed breed dogs. So, me, my technician Jenny, and my high school mentee student, Ashley loaded up with our rabies snare pole, multiple muzzles, leather gloves, and lots of vaccine to our unknown destination. We had an address, and thankfully, I was able to find my way there. (The animal control officer had been called away to another house and was unable to meet us.)

On the way to this call, I really fought the urge to make fun of these people. I knew that more than likely, we were going to encounter poverty and ignorance. I was convicted that this was not grounds for judgment. They had already had their life attacked by the law that day - it was not up to me to make their day worse by judging them. I was there to provide a service for their pets, and I made up my mind to do so with the same care and dignity I try to deliver with everyone.

We pulled up to the gate - and they did not open it for us. :) We got out and let ourselves in (they were standing there watching) and I went and introduced myself and my crew. I looked them in the eye, shook their hands firmly as I asked their names. I smiled at them. They smiled back. I was introduced to the ladies sister - and was told that she has dementia and might say strange things to us. I went and shook her hand. She smiled.

I was overcome with compassion before I even arrived at their house - that was not of me. It was this compassion that stayed with me for the next several days and is the subject of this blog. (Aren't you glad we are finally getting around to that?)

We vaccinated 12 healthy little chihuahuas - and didn't get bit once. For those of you who don't know this breed of dog, they are kindly referred to in the vet profession as 'land sharks' - they often bite. Their small size makes them difficult to restrain, but my Jenny is a master. I have to brag on one move she made for it was vet tech perfection! The owner was handing the little dogs to Jenny one by one. As she did so, some would try to bite her. In one particular instance, the dog turned quite quickly to bite Jenny on the hand that was trying to hold him. Jenny (in one of the more impressive moves I've ever seen) let go of him from underneath, and as he fell, she caught him by the back of the neck in a 'scruff.' This rendered his teeth unable to reach any of us. I then took his back legs and gave him his shot. It was so quick and so smooth - my mouth fell open. You can't teach skill like that, folks.

Jenny and Ashley followed my lead and were so kind and friendly to these folks. They were an older couple and they bickered back and forth as is they had been married for years. Turns out they were just boyfriend and girlfriend, but the manner in which they regarded each other told us they had been together a long time. It was quite amusing.

After the chihuahuas were done, we entered the bonus round: seven dogs of various breeds - all large - all chained to trees in the backyard. I was impressed with their health, the amount of shade provided to them, and how clean their limited surroundings were kept (no dog crap to be seen.) We had the owners muzzle them, and then Jenny would restrain them for me. One in particular gave us a bit of a fit - a 13 year old, 120lb Rottweiler. The owner kept telling us to go up and pet him on the head - but we knew from the look on the dog's face that to do so would result in us losing a limb. She muzzled him and as we approached him he began to growl fiercely. She said "Oh, he doesn't like that muzzle, I think he'd do better if we took it off." Jenny and I remarked in unison "no!" - we'll leave it on, thank you very much. :) Jenny practically sat on him and he took his shot bravely.

I really am rambling at this point, but I have to remark on one more thing. After we were done, I did my normal chatting with the owners just to be polite and caring. The gentlemen took the opportunity to ask me a question. He asked me (straight faced and serious) why the female dogs only had puppies every 3-4 years (as opposed to yearly) - then remarked that they always kept the males away from them unless the males broke their chains.

Did you catch that?

I asked him if the female dogs appeared to be cycling - coming into heat (swelling and bloody discharge from the rear end) every six months or so like normal? He said they were - but then remarked AGAIN that they always kept the male dogs away from them.

I gently explained how dog reproduction works. The males have to breed WITH the females when they are in heat to make puppies. I really did want to come up with some other story as not to encourage them to breed even more, but I am not quick enough for that. He seemed to understand what I was saying and thanked me. We said our good-bye's and left.

I talked with Jenny and Ashley on the way home, we chuckled a bit about that last comment. We wondered if they had any children. :) But then I talked about how important education is - it is evident that these two missed out. We don't know what life circumstances they had to endure as young people. Our blessing is that we were able to be educated - and well - in our life. I felt warm fuzzies for them for the care they provided to her sister. They didn't have to do that - they could have the state take care of her. But they do it. I'm sure it's not easy, but they do it anyway. They are poor, they are uneducated, but they take care of their own.

It's a good lesson.

I learned more good lessons as the weekend went on - next blog, please. The compassion story does continue.