Doctor Death

The other morning I had to rush out to pick up a dog that had collapsed and whose owners were unable to bring it to the clinic as they didn't own a car. When I arrived, expecting to see a dog flat on the floor, I was greeted by the most overweight 2 year old Staffie-cross that I had ever seen. It waddled up to me, tail wagging and gasping for breath (not unusual for obese dogs). The owners were now rethinking their decision to have him taken to the clinic.
"Oh, he seems fine now!"
I had a quick look at the dog's gums, which were WHITE.
"Um, no, I think I'd better get him to the clinic. There is something wrong here."
That was when they mentioned that he had been off his food for the past THREE WEEKS - and for this dog to be off his food there must have been something SERIOUSLY wrong. The owner had been forcing food down his throat for the past three days as he had gone completely anorexic - never a good sign. They then also mentioned that "oh, and he's been having intermittent seizures since he's been a pup" but they'd never had it looked into. Great.

So I hefted (and I mean HEFTED) the dog into the boot of my car and drive the five minute trip back to the clinic. I ran into the clinic to get a nurse to give me a hand bringing the dog in as there was no way I would be able to lift it out of my car again, but it was already too late. The poor bugger had died on the way to the clinic and it was too late to try CPR or adrenalin or any of those last ditch attempts at clawing an animal back from the edge of life. It was only then that I realised that these were the clients whose bird had died during a nail clip (Oct 2009 - Ornithophobia).

And to them I will now forever be known as "Doctor Death."