Call it an early birthday present — Ace is home and doing remarkably well.
After surgery to remove his bladder stones, and an overnight stay at the animal hospital, I picked him up yesterday evening.
I was warned he could be leaky for a few days, and that his pee could contain blood — much like that I’m still scrubbing out of my living room carpet from the morning before surgery — but, sequestered in the kitchen, he made it through the night.
When I let him out this morning (after relieving myself, it should be noted), he walked down the stairs, did his business, and came back to lay down on the front porch, just as he normally does.
All of which leads me to marvel, yet again, about what a stoic and resilient beast he is — far more so than I.
I turn 62 tomorrow and, believe it or not, I am happy to do that. I am happy for my year as a 61-year-old to be over. It included, in this order, quintuple bypass surgery for me, the death of my father, and the death of my mother.
When Ace became completely blocked up this week by what X-rays showed was a horrific number of bladder stones, and the veterinarian recommended, even with some risks, immediate surgery, I balked.
Might it be possible, I asked, to wait until after Sept. 5? My 61st year has been a particularly accursed one, I explained, and I don’t want to give it one last chance to hurt me.
Between saying it out loud, and the look on my vet’s face, I realized I was being ridiculous. Tomorrow is fine, I agreed. That was Tuesday.
Thursday, Ace was home, having emitted just one tiny whimper on the drive. On my ride home from the hospital, after heart surgery, I emitted a dozen whimpers, six grunts, four goddammits, and more than a few dirty looks at my brother for hitting bumps.
During the night, I heard Ace moan once. I, due to back problems, probably moaned 10 times last night.
I took three months to recover from my surgery; Ace looks like he is going to take about three days.
True, they were different kinds of surgeries. True, Ace is on pain pills, more than I would ever be permitted. Ace was prescribed Tramadol — and is to be given eight 50-milligram pills a day. My doctor, who prescribed the same for my back pain, at the same dosage, says I can only take two.
Still, on the one-to-ten scale of stoicism, Ace rates at least a nine, while I can barely eke out a two.
Ace — in his early 80s, if you compute his age in human years — is handling old-man-hood much better than I am.
He didn’t like being sequestered in the kitchen. He prefers following me from room to room and keeping me in sight. But he put up with it, and with no leakage or accidents the barriers have already been lifted, at least during daytime hours.
He is mostly sleeping, and mostly sleeping with his eyes wide open, which I’ve never been able to figure out how he does.
There were hundreds of little stones, enough to make a nice bracelet, should there be a jewelry maker out there who is interested in — and not too grossed out by — taking on the job.
I also brought home a dog without the monstrous front claws Ace used to have. I’ve written before about our efforts to control those. Since Ace was going to be under anesthesia anyway, I requested he be given a pedicure. In retrospect, given the vet spent hours meticulously removing all the stones from Ace’s bladder, I feel a little guilty about that.
On the other hand, it symbolizes the fresh start that I hope comes for both of us when I turn 62 tomorrow.
He, with his bladder purged of rocky deposits, and his claws at a reasonable length. Me, with a still-ticking heart, my favorite season virtually upon us and, most importantly, my dog back at my side.
Posted by John Woestendiek September 4th, 2015 under Muttsblog.
Tags: 61, 62, ace, animals, bladder, bladder stones, dog, dogs, health, pets, resilience, resilient, stoic, stoicism, superstitions, surgery, veterinarian, veterinary
A Jack Russell terrier who was taken to a Utah vet to get her teeth cleaned ended up getting what would have been spay surgery — had she not already been spayed.
“Somewhere along the line maybe we made a mistake,” Terry Emmons, the owner of Heartsong Clinic in Clearfield admitted in an interview with KSL.
Maria Jones of Utah County took her 4-year-old Jack Russell, Pepper to the clinic last week after calling earlier to schedule a teeth cleaning.
“That’s what I wanted. That’s what she needed,” Jones said.
But somehow, on the intake form for Pepper, the spay box was checked.
“She signed the paperwork and we took the dog back,” Emmons said.
“The doctor went in to spay her and the parts that you take out … weren’t there.”
Jones said she doesn’t know how that box got checked. She remembers seeing the checked box on the form, but says she assumed it was checked because Pepper had been spayed in the past.
Whether the mix-up occurred when Jones booked the appointment, or upon checking in, isn’t clear.
Said Emmons, “I’m not sure it was our error, but at least somewhere along the line, maybe we made a mistake.”
That mistake will leave a scar atop the scar Pepper already had.
Jones said she didn’t have to pay for the spay surgery, but the clinic did charge her $35 to cover the cost of the anesthesia.
Posted by John Woestendiek August 6th, 2015 under Muttsblog, videos.
Tags: animals, cleaning, dog, dogs, heartsong clinic, jack russell terrier, maria jones, mistake, misunderstanding, pepper, pets, spay, spayed, surgery, teeth, tooth, utah, veterinarian, veterinary, vets
Seems like Ace and I, as we keep piling on the years, take turns these days experiencing health problems — from the pesky to the potentially fatal.
Saturday was his turn again.
He woke me up about 5:30 a.m. to be let outside, not all that unusual. But then he declined to come back in. He just wandered about the backyard, stopping here and there, straining to pee, but to no avail.
Once he did come back in, he wanted out again two minutes later, where he again attempted, unsuccessfully, to complete the task.
As I do with my own ailments, I got on the Internet to Google the possibilities — urinary tract infection, stones of some sort, or some other kind of obstruction that was blocking him from doing what he needed to do.
Given it was already 10 a.m. when I called his vet, and that they close at noon on Saturday, I wasn’t too surprised when I was told all slots were filled. But I was promised that a vet would call me back.
When he did, about 30 minutes later, I told him Ace was struggling to pee and that, to my knowledge, he hadn’t been able to all morning. Otherwise, he seemed fairly normal, and not in pain, not even when I pushed and prodded around his abdomen.
The vet — not the one I usually see at the practice — told me that, while I might have to wait around for an opening, I could bring Ace in. And he told me I probably should. If I waited until Monday, and Ace went all that time without peeing, he’d likely be dead by then.
After taking some X-rays, the vet showed me what he said were bladder stones — faint little circles, and some not so little, inside his bladder. He said it would take some testing to determine which kind of stones they were (some are more easily treated than others). The first priority though, was to get that obstruction cleared and that bladder drained, so he suggested a catheter.
I winced at the word. It has only been a few months since I was treated to that process while in the hospital for bypass surgery. Of all the highly intrusive things they did to me (okay, for me) the installation of the catheter remains my most traumatic memory. The mere word gives me shivers.
Why, I wondered then, and still do, would they install this device into a person without knocking him out — good and out — first?
I would not wish it on my worst enemy, much less my best friend.
Ace, his tail tucked between his legs rather than in its normal full and upright position, was ushered to a back room, and I stepped outside to pace and worry. I didn’t exactly “feel his pain,” but I did remember mine.
As soon as I stepped back into the office, only about five minutes later, the vet and a technician came into the waiting room with Ace and said things were flowing again. Ace, thanks to the catheter, had peed, and peed some more, and one little stone came out in the process.
The vet tech took Ace outside and he peed some more. His curled-up tail, which had been in the down position all day, was up — generally a sign that all is right with the world, or at least his world.
While the emergency was over, the ailment remains. Tests of his urine this week will determine whether the stones still inside his bladder are of the struvite variety, which can sometimes be treated with a therapeutic diet, or calcium oxalate stones, which require surgical removal to totally get rid of them.
Whatever the case, I’m sure Ace will handle what’s ahead in a far more classy and stoic manner than I would.
These days, we both grunt a bit now when settling down, or getting up. We’re both a little slower. We both have to shift around a bit to get comfortable, then stretch ourselves out when we get back up again.
But somehow he is better at this aging thing than me. It has been almost three years since he, now 10, surpassed me, now 61, according to most formulas for comparing dog years to human years. Now, as a large dog, he’s aging much more quickly than I am — even though you wouldn’t know it to look at us.
This week’s medical agenda includes the testing of his urine, whatever steps are deemed necessary for him after that, an echocardiogram on me to assess how my heart is working after quintuple bypass surgery, and another visit to my physical therapist for a continuing back and shoulder problem, now being treated by something called “dry needling.”
I’ll spare you the details of that. Suffice to say, for me — and even for my dog — getting old is getting old.
(A special thanks to Brian LeFevre at Winston-Salem’s Ard-Vista Animal Hospital for working Ace into his schedule and getting things flowing again.)
Posted by John Woestendiek May 18th, 2015 under Muttsblog.
Tags: ace, aging, animals, bladder stones, care, catheterization, catheters, dog, dogs, getting old, health, human, old dogs, pee, pets, stones, straining to pee, treatment, urine, veterinarian, veterinary
Police arrested Heather Pereira, of Elizabethtown, during a visit to her veterinarian’s office and charged her with three counts of animal torture and obtaining a controlled substance by fraud. She was being held this week at the Hardin County Detention Center on a $5,000 bond.
It was the veterinarian’s office that contacted authorities after Pereira brought her dog in three times in three months for treatment of lacerations. Each time, Pereira asked for the powerful pain medication Tramadol for the dog, a golden retriever.
“Typically, as veterinarians, we see the best of people, people rescuing unwanted pets, people rescuing pets that have been hit on the street,” veterinarian Dr. Chad Bailey with Elizabethtown Animal Hospital said in an interview with WLKY. “Something like this is definitely uncharted territory,” Bailey said.
Pereira, 23, brought her dog to the hospital twice in October for treatment of mulitiple lacerations. On Dec. 4, the dog returned with more cuts and vets suspected, based on “the cleanliness of the cuts,” that they were inflicted with a razor, possibly intentionally.
Police were called and began an investigation, during which Pereira confessed she was injuring the dog to obtain pain medications.
“It was determined she was actually taking them and using those medications for herself instead of for the dog,” said Elizabethtown Police Sgt. Timothy Cleary.
At one point, police said, Pereira told vets she needed more painkillers for the dog because her child had flushed them down the toilet.
Pereira doesn’t have any children.
The dog has been removed from her home and placed in foster care. She’s going by a new name — Alice.
“She’s a great dog, wagging her tail, and, you know, I’m sure the dog has already forgiven, that’s just what dogs do. They love us unconditionally, and she’s a great dog and doing fine,” Bailey said.
Posted by John Woestendiek December 11th, 2014 under Muttsblog.
Tags: abuse, abusing, animals, arrest, chad bailey, controlled substance, cuts, dog, dogs, drugs, elizabethtown, elizabethtown animal hospital, golden retriever, hardin county, heather pereira, injuries, kentucky, lacerations, medication, owner, pain killers, painkiller, painkillers, pets, police, taking, torture, tramadol, vet, veterinarian, veterinary
The North Carolina couple that was told their dog would have to be quarantined for six months because he had been sprayed by a skunk has gotten the decision reversed.
Eleven-year-old Simon is back home in Kernersville.
Forsyth County animal control officials gave no reason for reversing the decision, according to Fox News.
Michael and April McQueen’s dog was quarantined last week after being sprayed by a skunk — even though his owners insisted he had not been bitten by, or come in contact, with the animal, other than getting sprayed.
After the incident, April McQueen took Simon to a veterinarian who told her the dog was three weeks late on renewing his rabies booster vaccination.
The vet contacted animal control officials, who informed her Simon had to spent six months in quarantine or be euthanized.
That decision struck many as harsh, including the McQueens — given their dog wasn’t actually bitten.
North Carolina law requires pets exposed to animals prone to carry rabies like skunks, foxes, coyotes, bats and raccoons be either euthanized or quarantined at the owners expense if their rabies vaccination isn’t up to date.
Rabies isn’t transmitted through a skunk’s spray, and Titer tests — as several ohmidog! readers pointed out — can be used to assess a dog’s antibody levels.
Simon’s owners appealed the decision and Simon was released on Thursday with no reason given.
Posted by John Woestendiek June 14th, 2014 under Muttsblog.
Tags: animal control, animals, april mcqueen, decision, dog, dogs, forsyth county, kernersville, michael mcqueen, north carolina, pets, quarantine, rabies, reversal, reversed, simon, skunk, skunked, titer, veterinarian, veterinary, wildlife
Sid, the Leonberger, apparently wasn’t the only dog a Fort Worth veterinarian promised to euthanize, then kept alive for the purpose of harvesting blood.
Millard “Lou” Tierce III, owner of Camp Bowie Animal Clinic, told investigators in a written statement that there were at least five dogs that — after assuring owners he was going to euthanize their pets — he secretly kept alive for blood transfusions and experimentation.
The Texas State Board of Veterinary Medical Examiners has scheduled a hearing on whether Tierce, whose license has been temporarily suspended, should face permanent suspension.
That’s scheduled for May 9 in Austin, according to the Houston Chronicle.
The investigations of Tierce began when Sid’s owners filed a complaint against him.
Marian and James Harris said they took their 170-pound Leonberger to Tierce’s clinic in May 2013 for a minor gland problem. Tierce kept the dog at his clinic for six months, during which time he performed cold laser therapy. In October, though, he told the couple the dog should be euthanized due to a birth defect in his spine.
The couple agreed to have Sid euthanized, and Tierce promised to bury the dog at his farm.
Last month, though, a former clinic employee told the Harrises that Sid was still alive, and being kept in a cage for all but 30 minutes a day.
Upon learning that, the Harrises went to the clinic and removed their dog.
On April 29, the board conducted a clinic inspection and found ”animal organs were kept in jars throughout the clinic. Bugs were visible in exam rooms. Stacks of drugs, trash, laundry, paperwork and other miscellaneous material were strewn about the examination rooms, hallways, stairwells, operating room, laboratories and offices of the clinic.”
Board investigators received a signed, handwritten statement from Tierce that he had accepted five animals for euthanasia and had kept them at his clinic without euthanizing them, the report stated.
Fort Worth police also went to the clinic on April 29, along with an outside veterinarian who concluded three other dogs being held there were suffering so much they should have been euthanized — including one who belonged to Tierce.
According to Tierce’s arrest warrant, a clinic employee told police that Tierce’s dog, a border collie, had been lying on a pallet in the same spot since she started work in June, without receiving medical treatment.
Posted by John Woestendiek May 6th, 2014 under Muttsblog.
Tags: animal cruelty, animals, arrest, blood, board of veterinary medical examiners, border collie, charges, dog, dogs, euthanasia, euthanized, experimentation, experiments, fort worth, harvesting, health, hearing, inspection, investigation, james harris, leonberger, lou tierce, marian harris, pets, promise, sid, suspension, texas, transfusions, veterinarian, veterinary, warrant
Imagine being told by your vet that your dog had an incurable condition and had to be euthanized.
Imagine saying your goodbyes and agreeing to let the vet put the dog down, with the promise that he would bury him on his farm.
Now imagine learning — six months later — that your dog never died, and the vet was keeping him alive to use him for blood transfusions.
A veterinary clinic in Fort Worth is under investigation for just such a Frankenstein-like scenario, NBC 5 reports.
Fort Worth police, the city of Fort Worth and state officials are involved in an investigation that started when a client of the Camp Bowie Animal Clinic found out his “euthanized” dog, a 5-year-old Leonberger named Sid, was alive.
Alive and well, in fact — except for being kept in a cage around the clock, and apparently being periodically tapped for blood at the clinic.
Jamie and Marian Harris said they took their dog to the vet for a minor anal gland issue.
After getting treated, Sid had trouble walking.
They say the vet, Lou Tierce, told them their dog had a spinal condition that was only going to get worse, and recommended he be put down. The couple and the son agreed to let the clinic bury Sid on the vet’s farm.
Six months later, the Harrises received a call from a veterinary technician, Mary Brewer, who told them Sid was alive and being used for blood transfusions while being kept in a cage most of the day.
“I told her, ‘He’s still here,’ and she’s like, ‘Can he walk?’ and I said, ‘Yeah, he’s here waiting on you. If you came today, he’d walk out and jump in your car,’” Brewer told News 5.
“It was like getting punched in the stomach and then some,” said Marian Harris. “This has rocked our world. My kids are like, ‘How does somebody do this?’ How does this happen?”
The couple went to the clinic, found Sid and freed him.
State and local authorities went to the Camp Bowie Animal Clinic Tuesday and seized several animals as evidence.
Sid, now back home, is being treated by other veterinarians. They’ve found he has mange, and shows signs of being used for blood transfusions, as well as being “abusively kenneled,” according to the Harrises’ lawyer, Jim Eggleston.
Eggleston says allegations have surfaced that more dogs and cats — some with serious illnesses — were being kept alive for blood transfusions and other experimental treatments, according to the Fort Worth Star-Telegram.
“You have a vet keeping dogs under false pretenses,” he said. “You have family pets that people thought were cremated or put down peacefully that may still be alive.”
Tierce has not been responding to media requests for his side of the story.
When the Harrises drove to the clinic to pick up their dog, they found Sid in a cage behind the building. Tierce came outside, according to their complaint, and explained that he had not euthanized Sid because some of his employees had threatened to quit if he did.
An investigator from the Texas State Board of Veterinary Medical Examiners met with Fort Worth police and the Tarrant County District Attorney yesterday to discuss whether criminal animal abuse charges will be filed.
Posted by John Woestendiek May 1st, 2014 under Muttsblog, videos.
Tags: alive, animals, blood, camp bowie animal clinic, complaint, dog, dogs, ethics, euthanized, fort worth, frankenstein, harris, investigation, jamie, kept, kept alive, leonberger, liar, lied, lou tierce, marian, pets, put down, sid, texas, transfusions, vet, veterinarian