Cole's Second Chance. Your Pets CAN Live On Without You.

Cole came to us one evening in the middle of Summer, 2018. It was the end of another long day. I work primarily nights; week nights 3 pm to 8 pm. I often see the appointments we couldn't fit in earlier, or, the cases that are attached to special scenarios that require a degree of liability in both the financial and 'out of the box' maneuverability. I wouldn't put these cases on the other vets who work at the clinic. It wouldn't be fair to.

These cases are a long story, meets pivot point bordering on euthanasia and deaths door, AND, an owner who cannot find any other option. It is essentially ALWAYS the same. Person in dire straights (often homeless, addicted, evicted, always desperately spewing emotionally garble) and a million excuses, and a pet in the cross hairs of a balance between if I don't do it the shelter (or the pink euthanasia juice) will. I, due to my poorly trained patience, have gotten better at being the listening forgiving humanitarian with these.  I'm not shy about the reasons. I am in these for these pets. The people, well, I am not so forgiving with them. I can't help most of them. They don't want it, they just want help for their pets.

Cole last week,

I walked into examination Room number two. First room on the right. The one with a bench seat, lots of room, and the most updated within my humble 1950's rural little veterinary clinic. There stood an aged black shabby, overweight wagging dog. He was entertained by the chaotic clutter and bustling revolving door of patients and their chauffeurs.

His mom, a woman shrouded in clothes trying to be very small hid her face sat on the bench ignoring him within her own grieving.

Cole was a mess of energy pent up in a body that should have been tired a long time ago. He was bright, happy, active, and yet obviously rather elderly. He smelled bad. He was matted, lumpy, had a fleshy marble bag hanging from some part of his belly. Attraction and affection for him would be a little deeper than the average onlooker would find at first glance. He was a soul in dire need of looking past a lot of deficiencies. He was also here because all other options had been emptied. Almost as desperate as his mom who was seated, sobbing, and almost incoherent.

Cole at his mass removal surgery.

This was one of those moments that suspends time. Removes you from the chatter of cluttered pesky dilemmas of daily life. It was one of those defining moments. The moments I don’t think lots of other vets deal with. I understand why, although it doesn't change the needs nor the consequences of turning a blind eye.

Quietly and spontaneously his mom started reciting her plight. She was a woman who started out like we all do. She once had dreams, hopes, plans for a life full of possibilities and potential. She wasn't any older, or younger than me, but, she was broken beyond repair from an intervention. She looked doomed. She couldn't stop crying. It was difficult to understand her story on a timeline. She was at this moment simply a person who needed to stop living in and out of her car every day. She wanted to be in a shelter where she could rest safely. Her dog, who I barely articulated as having been purchased as a puppy at 8 weeks old, was her soul source of companionship through all of her losses. She repeatedly told me that he had never know another mom. She was so insistent that I know this that I feared she would chose to put him to sleep rather than rehome him. This, this one incomprehensible statement, is one I have heard so many times I have almost lost faith in people being anything other than so self absorbed they will kill their best friend to prove the point.

“I am homeless. I live in my car. He needs more than I can give him but I have had him since he was a puppy. He only knows me.”

It was a moment in time, I have had too many times before. It was one of the many situations of feeling like my stethoscopes duties were extending well beyond my medical practice’s primary purpose.

This dog, Cole, looked like a marketing ad for some animal sanctuary pamphlet. He was big, shaggy, matted, filthy, had some odd bald black skin sac-looking mass swinging to-and-fro from his midsection, and for as bad as he looked he smelled equally unwantable. He was a tough sell unless you already possessed the eyes of adoration years together build. All of his discouraging selling points weren’t going to change his current predicament. He had a car for his only home. He was a dog who had energy and needed more than he had.

I have learned that in moments like these a few things really matter. First, I cannot undo what has walked in my door. Being cold, indifferent, and ambivalent isn’t going to change this pups fate. It also isn’t going to stop haunting me. Yes, I have to identify and embrace that I “feel” for my patients, even when they are just off the street and ownership has been only 5 minutes.

Next, many of these situations seem impossible. Impossible is a place where nothing happens. Novices make predictions, the rest of us, those who have learned that amazing happens when you invest yourself, offer hope, extend a hand of compassion and support, those of us who have gotten here know that life will surprise you if you aren’t afraid to let it.

What happened next was what ended up making all the difference in Cole’s story. I took a breath. I decided to not concoct an excuse to walk away. Send him and his mom to a place they didn’t have left to go. I asked Coles' mom if I could interview him and her. To tell his story to the world (at least our Facebook world). This is what made a difference. See Coles video here.

The last, and probably most important part of this meeting was having a staff who understands who we are, why we are this way, and what the world has room for. I had one person, my very dear friend, vet tech extraordinaire, who looked at me and said; “We can do this. I want to help.” It just takes one more person who believes and a spark happens. That glimmer of maybe?, turns into the beginning of a movement. Hiring her wasn’t an accident. Like the rest of the staff who I am so lucky to work with, it has been a long, (many years long), process of finding like minded people who believe and want to do something. Me, all by myself, that’s (almost) impossible. But a community of people like me, well, that is where fairy tale endings meet real-life.

Cole went home with that technician who believed in miracles that night. He stayed with her, as the newest member to her 5 dog flock for a few weeks. She gave him a new perspective and excitement to a life unfinished. He was caught on film in their back yard playing with her other dogs. It brought me to tears, (it still does). His joy was undeniable in that little snippet of yard play. I so wish his mom could have seen it. How happy she would have been. How relieved to know he was ok without her, and in spite of how alone they had been once.

After about 3 weeks, another video or two, Cole found his home. I can call it his 'next' but it has become his 'perfect' home. He is what they call him "the best dog we have ever had." Who knew 'best' could reside in this old package? (I guess we all did?, didn't we?).

Cole 2018 Pets With Santa. His family photo.

Cole was adopted by a wonderful family who also goes above and beyond what a little challenge might require. They take the hardest, most needy cases, and from their hands of love an kindness second chances become more than these little souls could have ever hoped for.

What I have come to believe as true, even though I dread each repeat episode, it is the time I love my job the most. Being a veterinarian can't, shouldn't be about finding the easy cases, the easy people, it is about helping the worst cases in the  most dire circumstances. It is the fulfilling place to build a lifetime of stories from.

For more information on who Jarrettsville Veterinary Center is please visit our Facebook page, or our website.

If you have a pet question or a story about your pet to share so we can start to help others who might be in the same situation you are (or were), please visit us at Pawbly.com. It is free to use and open to everyone.

If you want to learn more about pet care visit my YouTube channel here. 

Speechless; Screaming into the Vacuum.

I have been quiet.. for a while. Its not like me.. so, people have been asking..

"Where's the blog gone?"

I have  been blogging for long enough to know where the audience is, what they are interested in, and how I can coexist amongst these. The dilemma is that once you amass an audience they require frequent attention. They won't stick around if you don't keep them fed, assuaged and entertained.

It's the end of a year. A time for reflection, introspection, and self critical analysis. Except, lately, I have been feeling a little lost. Which will be evident to those who know me once I start speaking here. I cannot try to bluff my way through a blog. The past vulnerability I have displayed would make the shallow attempt at plausibility obvious.

The problem isn't the lack of self-purpose, nor is it the voice loud enough to proclaim it. It is that I get overwhelmed... don't we all? Overwhelmed with problems, challenges, pressures, and doubt that our little lives can influence a change big enough to matter. And, if it doesn't matter why invest so much effort in the trying?

I feel/fear that my voice too often lives in a vacuum. A place where those who need it cannot access it, and those threatened by it do whatever they can to suppress it. It is a mountain of challenge..

OR, have I become the girl crying "Wolf!" so often that even I am sick of my own pleas for help? Do I still relate to her? Identify with her cause and, if so, can I still muster/resurrect/maintain the energy to be her?

When I feel really small and inconsequential I get overwhelmed, and, then I get quiet, pensive, and introverted as I search for the return to my path within.

So, I sat here quiet, for months. Searching for the next reason to write. Hoping something entertaining, relevant, meaningful would miraculously fall in front of me. It hasn't. I am still here in the same spot wondering and wandering through the routines of my days.

Now that I am not swimming in the vortex of cancer watching my beloved puppy die I have had more free time to think. (Not always a good thing).

I have gone back to work full force. Immersion into other peoples worries, the pets I adore helping, and the clinic that is such a mash of intricate working parts the greasy wheels echo needs I can't fill fast enough.

The tapestry of issues, needs, and unfilled voids is equally overwhelmingly daunting. The chaos surrounds and I continue to sit small and lost.

Every day there is a reminder of work unfinished. Tasks no one else is going to face publicly, and a mountain of requests for help I cannot complete.

A small sampling includes;

"This sounds exactly like my cat. I was told by my specialist (after a $900 bill) that he most likely wouldn't have polyps because hes too young (2 years 8 months). They told me they could look for polyps, but that it would be an additional $2600 and that they may not find anything. I am considering traveling 4 hours to you and just sent an email to Krista. Thank you so much for this video, I feel like I  may have found the answer to helping my cat!"  This was in response to a YouTube video I posted on removing a nasopharyngeal polyp in a cat. The video, which documents the entire procedure, lasts 2 minutes and 38 seconds.

I get tons, and tons, of requests to look for a polyp in a cat who has been given a $1500 (plus) estimate to have this performed.

"Why is there such a price discrepancy?" they all ask.

"Ask them, I have no idea.. really, I don't. But I know I am not the only one who does this procedure. Nor am I (probably) the cheapest." It is a curt, terse, quip  reply. (I am equally appalled, angry and afraid the throngs will find me in a drove of cat-carrier caravans).

I also get referrals from other clinics to help the clients they won't. I would love to say 'can't' but they can, they just won't and don't. Almost always due to cost. They won't offer a payment plan, or even third party billing plan, and they won't budge on whatever that "why?" is. It is infuriating. I suppose I should feel at least grateful (not the right word, maybe, consoled?) that they cared enough (also probably not the right word), to tell them other places do care enough to.

Here's my New Years (2019) proclamation.

Jarrettsville Vet will take care of our clients when they need us. Not just when it's profitable, convenient, and easy enough to do so. Through the adorable puppy and kitten days, to the vomiting, diarrhea, urinary blockages, pyometras, and nasopharyngeal polyp days. We will be honest, offer options to every ailment, and every budget, and help you help your beloved furry family members every single day. It is what people who have pets they consider family want. It is who we are in the clinic and out of the clinic. It is why I will keep making videos, with prices included in them, and screaming into the vacuum.

We might be small, but we are mighty and unwavering in our mission and purpose.

Can one person change the world? Only if they inspire a change others need and build a team that is as determined as she is. It's time to stop being quiet again. It's time to get back to work outside of the clinic.

I guess we'll both see how I sound on  December 29 in 2019?

Here is where I fall prey to the profession I feel is so important and vital. I can scream into a working vacuum at the clinic, but, at home in the  quiet moments I am screaming this,, all the damned time.

There are pets with treatable conditions out there who are lucky enough to have a family that loves them as an integral part of their lives. We, the veterinary profession, knows this. We feel the same way. It was what motivated us to go to vet school. This intangible need to take care of those who lack a voice but impact our lives so profoundly. Somewhere in the quest for greedy profiteering, status, titles, and shiny towers we lost who we were and why we came. We started blaming, shaming, and distancing ourselves from our clients all at the expense of our patients (and I would add ourselves). There are always options outside of economic euthanasia. There is dying in this profession. Some, (a fraction of what is actually going on), are untreatable, the rest, the patients being denied care, cheated from the actual treatment because we knowingly exhausted resources in the discovery phase, and the emergencies at 2 am who aren't told that cheaper exists after 8 am, are the skeletons that lead our suicide statistics. We, this profession turned lobbyists, did it to ourselves. We forgot. We forgot to care, to over extend for the sake of that wet nose. We forgot that vet school was always a poor investment. We forgot what it is like to live paycheck by paycheck because we also made poor life choices. And, we forgot that the legacies of our lives are the actions of the moment.

When we deny options that work for people we deny them the ability to care for their pets. We undermine the bonds our profession relies on for current and future viability. This reflects on our professions integrity and credibility. 

Here I am screaming.. is anyone there?

For more information on who Jarrettsville Veterinary Center is please visit our Facebook page, or our website.

If you have a pet question or a story about your pet to share so we can start to help others who might be in the same situation you are (or were), please visit us at Pawbly.com. It is free to use and open to everyone.

If you want to learn more about pet care visit my YouTube channel here.