It’s 09:00 and the next animals to be brought in to see Dr. Jim are a couple of cats requiring vaccination.
The kittens are named Grace and Frankie and both were adopted from the Nevada Humane Society although I wasn’t familiar with the circumstances surrounding that adoption.
But great to see them being cared for by the two women and the degree of professional service that I saw in Jim’s briefing of these new cat owners.
That care included giving one of the kittens the necessary pills by mouth.
It is now 09:25 and the next case for Jim is another cat. In this case a cat, named Ace, that the owner thinks is having trouble seeing out of it’s right eye.
Jim applies a fluorescent stain to the Ace’s eye that then enables Jim to use a special UV lamp to determine the degree of damage to the eye.
It is determined that the pressure in Ace’s eyeball is normal and Jim is pretty certain that Ace has no sight at all in that right eye. He recommends giving the cat some antibiotics and explains to the owner that cat’s can function perfectly adequately with just one eye. Indeed, if necessary the eyeball could be removed, something that would not be a disadvantage for Ace.
The lady owner of Ace takes note of Jim’s advice and is clearly grateful for what has been explained to her.
It is 10:10.
To be continued:
(Please note: These observations are mine alone and because of the busy environment it must be assumed that my interpretation of what was taking place might not be totally accurate. Nothing in this blog post should be used by a reader to make any medical judgment about an animal. If you have any concern about an animal do make an appointment to see a properly qualified veterinarian doctor.)
I arrived a little before 8:30 to find both receptionists busy on the telephone. They signaled for me to wait in the reception area until Dr. Jim came out to meet me.
As I waited it quickly became clear that Janice, one of persons behind the front desk, was speaking to someone who was having to make the decision to euthanize their dog. I hadn’t bargained for how that made me feel since it was so recently that Jean and I had trodden the same path. I had to give myself a stern reminder that I was here as the quiet, unobtrusive observer and that my own feelings had to be tucked out of sight.
Shortly thereafter, with Janice still on the telephone patiently and compassionately speaking with that dog’s owner, someone came in with Daisy who was here for teeth cleaning. Jim came out to meet her and advise the owner that one of the team would be doing Daisy’s teeth not himself.
Then it was time for me to go back with Jim and start the day with him. (Jim had arrived at 8:20am.)
Jim’s first case was Ginger. Ginger, a female Golden Retriever, had been brought in earlier on because she had lost weight, was lethargic and was generally off-color.
Jim started to examine Ginger assisted by Cianna, a veterinary technician at the clinic.
It was immediately clear to Jim when he listened to Ginger’s heart that it was racing; Jim thought at something like 200 beats per minute. Jim continued to check Ginger over although, as he told me later, he had an idea that Ginger’s medical problem was a cardiac issue. Jim arranged for Ginger to be given an X-ray as well as blood work.
It would take a few minutes for the results of Ginger’s X-ray to come through so Jim showed me the primary software program used in the clinic to record all the details of each patient and all the individual medical details. The software was called AVImark.
I was impressed, very much so, but then again not surprised. For the veterinary business is big business in many countries. For instance, the American Veterinary Medical Association (AVMA) reports that in 2016 there were 107,995 veterinarians in the USA. Of course, there would be a wide range of software tools for the industry.
Back to Ginger’s status.
Her X-ray having been taken, the digital image of her heart was transferred electronically to Dr. Jim’s computer. It showed an extremely enlarged heart. Jim said that the owners of Ginger would be facing a potentially complex analysis but in the interim Ginger should be put on one of the ‘pril’ drugs to reduce the very high stress on Ginger’s heart: Lisinopril; Enalapril; Benazepril. That was arranged then and there. (I didn’t make a note of which drug was given to Ginger.)
Time to call Ginger’s owners and report the findings.
The owners said that they would be in to collect Ginger at 12:30.
I looked at my watch. It was 8:58!
Already the next patient is ready to be seen by the good Doctor.
To be continued:
(Please note: These observations are mine alone and because of the busy environment it must be assumed that my interpretation of what was taking place might not be totally accurate. Nothing in this blog post should be used by a reader to make any medical judgment about an animal. If you have any concern about an animal do make an appointment to see a properly qualified veterinarian doctor.)
Opening up the world of a busy veterinary practice.
Like the majority of pet owners, our experiences of taking a cat or a dog to the local vet clinic are gained entirely in regard to those particular animals. The only small difference between this household and most others is that we have the distinct privilege of having Jim and Janet Goodbrod as close friends just a short distance away. Jim is a Doctor of Veterinary Medicine (DVM) and thank goodness for that as it was more than wonderful that Jim was able to be on hand a week ago when it came to Pharaoh’s last few moments.
Jim is a regular DVM working at Lincoln Road Veterinary Practice in nearby Grants Pass. That practice is run by Dr. Russel Codd.
Dr. Russel Codd (RHS) speaking with Jean at the Clinic back in the days of our dear Hazel.
Some time ago, when we were visiting Lincoln Road, it struck me that the detail of what takes place ‘behind the counter’ of a busy vet clinic is most likely not commonly appreciated by those that visit said clinic.
I asked Russel one day if I might be allowed to spend time watching and listening to what goes on behind the scenes; so to speak. Russel said that he would be delighted for me to do that.
So it came to pass that last Thursday, June 22nd, I did just that.
It was a day when Dr. Jim worked a half-day at the clinic and I spent the thick end of six hours listening and observing what took place. I had a camera with me but as was only fit and proper was very sensitive to what photographs were taken. Likewise, I didn’t interrupt the proceedings with my questions although each pet owner had specifically said it was alright for me to be in the same room. In other words, what I will be writing in each post is much more my impressions of the workings of a day in the life of a veterinary clinic.
So tomorrow I will publish the first of my articles and at regular intervals report more from my day at Lincoln Road.
They will be published under the overall heading of Visiting The Vet.
Those of you that read this blog fairly regularly know that from time to time I drift away from all things dog and potter in the garden of simply fascinating ideas.
Such is the case today.
It is an article on mathematics that was sent to me by Jim Goodbrod. He had read it in The New York Times in April.
Read it and see if you, too, find it as fascinating as I did!
I was doing KenKen, a math puzzle, on a plane recently when a fellow passenger asked why I bothered. I said I did it for the beauty.
O.K., I’ll admit it’s a silly game: You have to make the numbers within the grid obey certain mathematical constraints, and when they do, all the pieces fit nicely together and you get this rush of harmony and order.
Still, it makes me wonder what it is about mathematical thinking that is so elegant and aesthetically appealing. Is it the internal logic? The unique mix of simplicity and explanatory power? Or perhaps just its pure intellectual beauty?
I’ve loved math since I was a kid because it felt like a big game and because it seemed like the laziest thing you could do mentally. After all, how many facts do you need to remember to do math?
Later in college, I got excited by physics, which I guess you could say is just a grand exercise in applying math to understand the universe. My roommate, a brainy math major, used to bait me, saying that I never really understood the math I was using. I would counter that he never understood what on Earth the math he studied was good for.
We were both right, but he’d be happy to know that I’ve come around to his side: Math is beautiful on a purely abstract level, quite apart from its ability to explain the world.
We all know that art, music and nature are beautiful. They command the senses and incite emotion. Their impact is swift and visceral. How can a mathematical idea inspire the same feelings?
Well, for one thing, there is something very appealing about the notion of universal truth — especially at a time when people entertain the absurd idea of alternative facts. The Pythagorean theorem still holds, and pi is a transcendental number that will describe all perfect circles for all time.
But our brains also appear to respond to mathematical beauty as they do to other beautiful experiences.
In a 2014 study, Semir Zeki, a neuroscientist at University College London, and other researchers used fM.R.I. scanners to observe the brains of 15 mathematicians while they were thinking about various equations. The subjects were shown 60 mathematical formulas two weeks before they were scanned and during and after the scan. They were also asked to rate their level of understanding of each equation and their subjective emotional response to it, from ugly to beautiful.
The researchers found a strong correlation between finding an equation beautiful and activation of the medial orbitofrontal cortex, a region of the prefrontal cortex just behind the eyes. This is the same area that has been shown to light up when people find music or art beautiful, so it seems to be a common neural signature of aesthetic experience.
Geeks, take heart: While you can’t see or hear mathematical ideas, they too are capable of arousing a sense of beauty.
No doubt you’d like to know which equation won the beauty contest. It was the so-called Euler’s identity, which is a deceptively spare but profound equation that links five fundamental mathematical constants: a mix of real and imaginary numbers that combine to make zero. And the ugliest? Ramanujan’s infinite series for the reciprocal of pi — a clunky equation, even to this non-mathematician.
While mathematicians were more likely to find formulas beautiful if they understood them well, the correlation was not perfect, so the researchers were able to show that the observed brain activation was a result of the experience of beauty apart from meaning. This makes sense, in that there were equations that subjects understood completely yet found ugly.
Now, the medial orbitofrontal cortex is also active when we find something pleasurable or rewarding, which isn’t surprising either, since you’d expect beautiful experiences to be both.
My love of math originated in the physical world. My father, an insatiably curious guy and electrical engineer, used to build things with me — crystal radios, electric generators, all kinds of exciting contraptions.
One summer evening I found him tinkering with a mysterious metal box in the garage. It was a prototype of a ruby laser. When he flicked the switch, a brilliant thin red light shot out of the laser and up into the night sky.
“How far does it go?” I asked. “To infinity,” he said and added, smiling, “or further.”
I was awe-struck. I still am.
Richard A. Friedman is a professor of clinical psychiatry and the director of the psychopharmacology clinic at the Weill Cornell Medical College, and a contributing opinion writer.
ooOOoo
While my understanding of mathematics is average, to say the best, I did identify with the idea spelt out a few paragraphs above. This one:
….. so the researchers were able to show that the observed brain activation was a result of the experience of beauty apart from meaning.
Because it took me back to looking up at the night sky out at sea well away from land.
Did I understand the meaning of what I was looking up at? Of course not! Did I experience beauty? Beyond what I could put into words!
On a clear night you can see some 4,000 stars in our universe. (Photo taken of a night sky over England – National Trust)
At 1pm yesterday, I had an appointment with the medical assistant at the Department of Urology, Three Rivers Hospital, in Grants Pass, following my ten days of ‘wearing’ a catheter. The good news was that the catheter was removed (and I must now remember I can’t pee anytime I like!).
The more sobering news was that for at least until the end of March, I must not engage in any lifting, pulling or pushing, or any exercise that would run the risk of another bleeding episode. I have an appointment with Dr. Mayer, the urologist, at the end of March and really want to be signed off as fully fit at that time.
So far: so good!
For dear, sweet Casey he is facing a very long haul. Dr. Jim, our vet neighbour and close friend, recommended that Casey start taking a steroid and he is now on Prednisone.
This has the effect of making Casey very lethargic. No bad thing because the only chance of his spinal disc and pad healing up is that he takes very little exercise. In the picture above you can see Casey avoids lifting his head up when he looks at you.
Jean has also paced Casey’s food bowl on a small stool because Casey found it painful to lower his mouth down to floor level.
Dr. Jim says that there is a very good chance that Casey will heal himself but that we are all looking at quite a few weeks.
So for Casey and me we sincerely hope that the end of March has us both firmly down that road to full recovery.
Sorry, folks but still a few days away from being back to normal service.
We awoke yesterday morning with Casey sufficiently unwell that Jim Goodbrod recommended taking him to Southern Oregon Veterinary Services (SOVC) down in Medford. There SOVC said that it does look as though Casey has a failure in one of the spinal discs in his neck. First, we have been advised to up the pain medicine before embarking on an MRI and then, possibly, surgery.
In the middle of all this the tube from my catheter into my drainage bag became blocked, evidenced by pee running down my leg!!
SOVC offered me their very comfortable bathroom where I then unblocked the tube using a syringe and sterile water; luckily all brought with me.
Then it was up to Grants Pass to find a solution to my ‘leaking’ catheter only to find that Southern Oregon Medical Equipment, who we thought were in Grants Pass, had moved a year ago from Grants Pass to …… guess?? ……. yes: Medford!
Plus it was raining for most of the day!
Yes, it was one of those days!!
One of those days where one needs a head for the heights that life can throw at one.
No better demonstrated by the following video sent to me by my loving son: Alex!
So will just close by saying that until my catheter is taken out next Tuesday (fingers crossed) I may be ‘distracted’ from Learning from Dogs at times!
The words of Jim and Janet Goodbrod. It was finally time to say the last goodbye to our old Buddy. Life had become an intolerable burden. His spirit wanted to keep going, but his failing body could not keep up. We ended his suffering and gently nudged him into that deep and eternal sleep last Wednesday.
Rest in peace old man! You made it 16-17 years. You aren’t in pain any longer and can run and play like you used to. We had you for only about 10 months, but loved you and we’re glad we could make your last year a good one. Forget the horrible abuse you suffered as a puppy, and remember only the love and joy you gave us in your last days on this planet.
A Dog’s Plea
Treat me kindly, my beloved friend, for no heart in all the world is more grateful for kindness than the loving heart of me.
Do not break my spirit with a stick, for although I should lick your hand between blows, your patience and understanding will quickly teach me the things you would have me learn.
Speak to me often, for your voice is the world’s sweetest music, as you must know by the fierce wagging of my tail when your footsteps falls upon my waiting ear.
Please take me inside when it is cold and wet, for I am a domesticated animal, no longer accustomed to bitter elements. I ask no greater glory than the privilege of sitting at your feet beside the hearth. Keep my pan filled with fresh water, for I cannot tell you when I suffer thirst.
Feed me clean food that I may stay well, to romp and play and do your bidding, to walk by your side and stand ready, willing and able to protect you with my life, should your life be in danger.
And, my friend, when I am very old, and I no longer enjoy good health, hearing and sight, do not make heroic efforts to keep me going. I am not having any fun. Please see that my trusting life is taken gently. I shall leave this earth knowing with the last breath I draw that my fate was always safest in your hands.
Twenty-one things my dog taught me about being a better man.
June 7, 2010 by Olivier Blanchard
We had to put our golden retriever to sleep this weekend, our friend of fifteen years, our family’s faithful guardian and companion, and one of the kindest, most loyal and giving souls I have ever met. True to her breed, Sasha was courageous, tender and selfless until the end.
I was trying to figure out how to give her a worthy send-off here on The BrandBuilder blog, and settled on some of the things she taught me over the years. Or rather, the things I didn’t realize she had taught me until this past week, much of which I spent caring for her, as she could no longer take care of herself. She and I had some long chats, in our own way, and the old girl was much wiser than I gave her credit for.
Are there business lessons in this list? Yes. There are. But all are deeply human lessons at the core. If being human can make a business better, if it can fuel its soul (or even simply give it one), then yes, let these be business lessons. But don’t ever forget that what makes a business truly great isn’t technology or design or a fancy logo. Those are expressions of something deeper. Something more visceral and powerful and true. What makes a business great, what makes it special, worthy of a connection, worthy of trust and loyalty, admiration and respect, even love, always starts with a beating heart, not a beeping cash register. (One is the cause, and the other one of many effects. Don’t lose sight of that distinction. Horse before cart: Soul drives love. Love drives business.)
It’s so easy to lose sight of what’s important in our lives. And this isn’t me being overly sentimental because I just lost my dog. I mean, yes, sure, okay… But there’s also something to this: That sentimentality, that emotion, these things that make us connect with other souls is at the heart of EVERYTHING this blog has been about these last few years: Business, design, marketing, social media, communications, corporate responsibility, best practices… No company can ever be great unless it can tap into the very essence of what makes us want to connect with each other, and no executive or business manager or cashier can ever truly be great at their jobs unless they also tap into the very thing that makes genuine human connections possible. If ever there was a secret to successfully building a brand, a lovebrand, the kind that people will fight for and whose mark they will tattoo on their bodies, it is this. The rest is merely execution.
If you only walk away with one bit of wisdom from this post, let it be this: You cannot build a better business unless you first become a better human being. Everything that strips you of your humanity, of your empathy, of your ability to connect with others is bad for business. It’s bad practice. It is doomed to fail in the end.
As my good friend John Warner noted yesterday, “If more people were as loyal and loving as dogs the world would be a better place.” (source) And he’s right. How do you become a better human being then? Well, that’s up to you, but if you had asked Sasha, she might have given you a few pointers of her own. Granted, she was never a Fortune 500 C.M.O. She didn’t design the iPad. She didn’t invent the internet or write a book. She never presented at a conference. All she did was hang out with me and Chico. We went on car rides. She watched me work. She lived the simple life of a dog, uncluttered by Twitter followers and Hubspot rankings and the drive to publish and present case studies. She was a dog, and so her perspective is a little different from what you may be used to. At any rate, here are twenty-one she and I discussed at length last week. I hope they will be as valuable to you as they now are to me.
Twenty-one things my dog taught me about being a better man:
1. Be true to your own nature. There’s no point in faking it. A golden retriever isn’t a chihuahua or a pug or a greyhound, and for good reason. Being comfortable in your own skin is 90% of the trick to rocking out your life. Not everyone is meant to be Rintintin or a seeing-eye dog or an Iditarod racer. It’s okay. Find yourself and embrace your nature. That’s always a great place to start.
2. Be true to the ones you love. Your friends, your family, your tribe, your pack. A life lived for others is a life well-lived. Selfish pursuits aside, ambition often grows hollow when turned inwardly instead of outwardly. It’s one thing to want to be pack leader, but there is just as much value and honor in serving than in leading. When in doubt, see item number one.
3. Never say no to a chance to go on a car ride. When the days grow short, I guarantee you’ll wish you’d have gone on more car rides.
4. Leashes are the enemy. Avoid them at all cost.
5. People are strange. So much potential, yet here they are, doing everything they can to complicate rather than simplify their lives. It’s puzzling.
6. Belly scratches.
7. The end isn’t pretty, but if you can face it with dignity and grace, none of your body’s weaknesses will matter. Your heart, your courage, your spirit is what people will see and remember. This isn’t only applicable in your last days and weeks. It’s applicable every day of your life. Adversity happens. It’s how you deal with it that matters.
8. Forgiveness is easier for dogs than for humans, but humans have opposable thumbs and the ability to speak, so it all balances out in the end.
9. Your bark is your own. No one has one quite like yours. Own it. Love it. Project it.
10. Trust your instincts. They rarely steer you wrong. The feeling in your gut though, that’s probably just something you ate.
11. Just because you’re meant to live on land doesn’t mean you can’t feel at home in water. Play outside the safety zone. Swim in the deep end. Dive in. We’re all designed to do more than the obvious.
12. Play more. The game is irrelevant. Just play. Tip: Exploring is play. Having adventures is play. Finding out what’s behind the next hill is play.
13. Your body growing old doesn’t mean you can’t be a puppy at heart. Actually, the first should have no impact on the latter. If you find that it does, take a step back, regroup, and restart. Always be a puppy at heart.
14. Humans aren’t all bad. But they aren’t all good either. Choose yours wisely.
15. Always keep that 20% wolf in you. If you ever give it up, you’re done. A dog without a little wildness in the blood isn’t a dog. It’s a furry robot. The beauty of a great dog doesn’t lie in its obedience but in its loyalty. Loyalty is a choice. Dogs choose to be dogs and not wolves. That’s what makes them so special.
16. Running full bore across a field in the rain.
17. There are no mysteries. Take cats, for example: Half rat, half badger. Crap in a box. Eat rodents. Where’s the mystery in that? If you look hard enough, you can figure most things out for yourself. The world isn’t as complicated as it sometimes seems.
18. Sometimes, you have to back up your growl with a bite. Go with it. Some people like to test your bark-to-bite ratio. With those “inquisitive” types, a little education goes a long way. As much as it sucks to have to go there, it is sometimes necessary. (It’s what the fangs are for.) Your territory, your space, your safety… They’re worth defending. Make a show of it once, and chances are you’ll never have to teach anyone a lesson again.
19. Being alone is no way to go through life. We’re pack animals. Humans, dogs, same thing. We need others to make all of this worthwhile. As an aside, if we live through others, why not also live for others, even if only a little bit? It isn’t that much of a stretch.
20. When you chase the ball, CHASE the fucking ball. Two reasons: a) It’s a chase. You don’t half-ass a chase. You go all out. It’s what you do. It’s the point. b) You don’t want some other mutt to get to the ball before you and slobber it all up, do you?
21. In the end, you will revisit your adventures, your battles, your chases, your voyages and all the excitement of your life with bemused pride, but it’s the quiet moments with loved ones that your mind will settle on. The comfort of those days when all you did was spend lazy hours with them, your head on their lap, their’s on yours, taking in the afternoon sun and the hundreds of fleeting stories carried like whispers on the breeze, those are the memories that will stay with you to the end and beyond.
Never give up on your thirst for life, on the beauty subtle moments, and on chasing that ball as hard and fast as your legs and heart will carry you.
Godspeed, Sasha.
Sasha (1995 – 2010) R.I.P.
ooOOoo
Shortly after completing today’s post, I read the following. It seemed appropriate to include it today.
When you talk, you are only repeating what you know,
A traumatic accident to Casey is very professionally dealt with.
Our nine dogs are divided into two groups. One group lives in the kitchen/dining-room area (Casey, Paloma and Ruby) and the other dogs in the living-room/bedroom area (Pharaoh, Sweeny, Pedy, Oliver, Cleo and Brandy).
These two groups are separated by a gate, as seen here with Pharaoh resting on his bed and Casey at ease just on the other ‘kitchen’ side.
Both Jean and I go between the two areas via the gate many times daily.
Last Sunday evening, as Jean was going to the kitchen, Casey stuck his head through one of the vertical spaces in the gate and must have become stuck albeit what then happened was upon us in a flash. For Brandy grabbed the left-hand side of Casey’s face with his own jaw and the two dogs were locked together. It was a bit of a struggle to separate Brandy from Casey and when we took a look at Casey’s face it was clear that there was a laceration along his lower, left-hand lip. However, he did not appear to be in pain and we all proceeded to bed.
On the Monday morning after I had returned from my bike ride with a local group of neighbours I queried with Jean whether or not we should just check that Casey wasn’t too badly injured despite the fact that Casey was showing no signs of discomfort. Nevertheless, his wound was not a pretty sight and a quick call to our neighbour Jim Goodbrod, who is also a Doctor of Veterinary Medicine (DVM), resulted in Jim saying to bring Casey round to his place then and there.
We are glad that we did for Jim quickly discovered that the laceration was not only to Casey’s lower lip but that much of his gum below the gum line along Casey’s teeth had been torn away exposing the jaw bone. Jim said that this required specialist attention and had no hesitation in recommending Southern Oregon Veterinary Speciality Center (SOVSC) in Medford, about 40 miles to the South. Jim went inside his house and made an appointment for us to take Casey to SOVSC for 2pm that afternoon.
We had previously been to SOVSC with Hazel and were impressed with their level of expertise and experience and the fact that they were open twenty-four hours every day of the week!
By the time we arrived Casey had been allocated to be seen by Dr. Adam Reiss, DVM, and very soon after arrival we were shown into a side room awaiting Dr. Reiss’s medical assistant.
Dr. Reiss then arrived and explained that Casey’s lip and gum would require suturing under a general anesthetic but that they could fit it in that afternoon albeit Casey would not be ‘back on his feet’ until 6pm at the earliest. Of course, we agreed and shortly thereafter Casey quietly and calmly was led away by Dr. Reiss’s assistant.
Jean and I then went the short distance to the centre of Medford, did a bit of shopping, had an early dinner and returned to SOVSC shortly before 6pm.
While we were waiting for news I was interested to read a prominently displayed sign setting out what constituted a veterinary specialist. (I’ve included the image at a larger size to make it easier for you to read it.)
Clearly there is more to caring for one’s pet than meets the eye.
At Southern Oregon Veterinary Specialty Center, we understand the special bond between a pet and their human family. Our team of highly trained doctors, certified technicians and support staff partner with your family veterinarian to provide specialized diagnostics, surgery and emergency care for your pet upon a referral or emergency basis. Our clinic is staffed 24 hours-a-day, 7 days a week, to receive emergency cases and to monitor our critical care patients. The clinic’s board-certified veterinary specialists and staff are committed to providing exceptional compassionate care utilizing state-of-the-art technology and treatments.
The relationships we have with partner veterinarians are vital to the success of treating your pet. We will keep them apprised of the patient’s status to provide a smooth and cohesive experience.
Jim Goodbrod speaks highly of the Center.
Dr. Reiss duly came out to speak with us and explained that all had gone well although Casey was still groggy but back on his feet. Despite the smiling face Dr. Reiss looked pretty tired. Not surprising when one reflects that the time was well past 6pm.
In an earlier conversation with some of the staff it was reported that, on average, some thirty animals were seen every day!
That’s commitment to the cause in any language!
Then it wasn’t long before our dear Casey was being led back into the front waiting area.
To be followed moments later by the assistant (apologies for not making a note of her name) setting out the details of how Casey had to be cared for over the coming hours and days.
The verbal guidance was supported by extensive notes.
Then it was a case of yours truly paying for all the services that had been provided for Casey and time to go home.
The car was rearranged to give room for Casey to sit on the rear seats with Jean next to him. I took the opportunity to take a photograph of the two of them that showed clearly the extent of the suture and the drain that had been inserted into Casey’s mouth.
It was beyond me to comprehend how Casey was so nonchalent to what in any human’s experience would have been hurting big time.
An hour later we were all home and getting dogs, cats and horses fed a lot later than normal.
Miracle of miracles Casey made it comfortably through the night and the following photograph was taken a little after 9:30 am yesterday morning.Well done all involved!
Thank you to Jim and all the doctors and staff at SOVSC but the biggest thank you of them all must go to Casey!!
In my post informing all you lovely people that Hazel had died in the early hours of Wednesday morning I included:
There has been so much interest and concern over her from you all that I wanted to post this without delay. We will be arranging to have the exact cause of death determined so that, too, may be shared with you all.
The background is that our vet, Dr. Jim Goodbrod, had been in touch with the appropriate health authority with regard to the risk of Coccidioidomycosis, the medical term for the fungal infection of Hazel’s lungs that was the first diagnosis of what was ailing Hazel. Reason why is that Coccidioidomycosis can be a danger to humans if the spores in a body are released following the corpse being open up.
The next step was that Oregon State University (OSU) expressed an interest in doing further research on Hazel’s body because Coccidioidomycosis was so rarely seen in Oregon. That would have entailed shipping Hazel’s body up to Corvallis in Oregon and then having her cremated up there.
In the end, we thought that the most dignified way of treating Hazel was to have her cremated by Stephens locally in Grants Pass. They have been very kind in keeping Hazel’s body chilled while we worked out the if’s and how’s of working with OSU.
We expect that by the end of today, Friday, our lovely dog will have been cremated.
On Saturday, I will be publishing a eulogy to Hazel and Sunday’s Picture Parade will be devoted to remembering the beautiful dog that she was.
Learning from Dogs 