Traffic Jam

I was told that the English saw standing in a queue as a hobby, but didn't realise how true that was until I made the mistake of visiting a safari park on a sunny bank holiday. We knew it would be busy and made sure to put on our 'patient faces' while sitting in line in the car and slowly moving through the park. We finally cracked though, when we accidentally turned into the deer feeding paddock. Having both worked as vets in New Zealand where we routinely handled deer, we weren't really interested in seeing the deer, but didn't realise that we could skip the section until we saw the guy behind us drive straight on as we made the grave error of turning into the deer paddock. Where we proceeded to sit in a 2 lane TRAFFIC JAM for OVER AN HOUR. Bear in mind it would take about 5 minutes to drive through the paddock if there were no traffic. And we didn't even have any snacks.


The only thing that kept us sane was watching the poor family stuck in the car behind us as the father grumbled at his wife, and laughing at another father holding his little daughter up for a wee as the interminable wait had become too much for her poor little bladder to bear. I was jealous as my poor little bladder was also struggling by that time.

So the moral of the story? Never drive into an area where there are animals prancing up to the side of cars looking cute and begging for food unless you are prepared to be there for a while...or enjoy standing in line like a true Brit.

Friday night consults

Note to all animal owners out there - if you really want to get to the bottom of your animal's skin or ear condition that's been going on for the past four years - do NOT book a 10 minute consult on a Friday night at 6:45pm before the bank holiday weekend. After 20 morning consults, 4 surgeries, 2 dentals, countless phone calls & referrals, 30 minutes on the phone fighting with the red tape that is banking bureaucracy and 10 evening consults...this is NOT the time to try to address your animal's chronic poorly managed skin condition.

In an ideal world several skin scrapings and hair pluckings would be taken, along with extensive history including all food eaten in the past 6 months, and a thorough physical exam possibly including blood tests. In the real world on a Friday night you will get steroids, a medicated shampoo and a flea treatment and told to come back in a week. NEXT!!!

VAVs

My sympathy goes out to all the VAVs (Victim's of Volcanic Ash) who are trying to get home, and even more so to all the poor people working at the airport and copping all the flack from angry passengers.

On the other hand, having just booked a flight to Newcastle for the bank holiday and another to Egypt for the near future, all I can say is...THEY BETTER NOT BUMP ME NOW!

It's not the size that counts

I had a "giant" of a dog brought in for his first puppy vaccination today. After seeing the name "Zeus" on the clipboard, I was naturally expecting a Great Dane, Mastiff or similar sized pup. Instead, I was greeted by a ball of energy in the form of a Mini-Foxy. Should've seen it coming really.

The owner pointed out a spot on its back that was shaped like a duck and I exclaimed without thinking (one of my poorer habits), "Oh, why didn't you call him Ducky?" (which I thought was more appropriate).
"Well," she replied, "I wanted to, but my grandson decided he needed a STRONG name."

Since most foxies seem to think they are just big dogs trapped in a small dog's body (the classic dog version of "small man's syndrome") I suppose it was appropriate after all!

Chocolate Labradors

Ah Easter...the time of bunnies, Easter eggs, chocolate, and of course, chocolate poisonings in dogs...usually labradors, the food addicts of the dog world. We often get phone-calls from panicked owners about dogs having eaten one or two Easter eggs. These are usually false alarms as the eggs are mostly milk chocolate, and it takes a lot more chocolate than people realise to poison a dog.

That was, however, until a one year old Lab was brought in as he had managed to polish off an A4 sized one inch deep container FULL of chocolate (including one of those dark rabbit chocs) sometime during the night. The kids were not happy at having lost all their Easter treats and their mother was not happy at having grumpy kids and a hyperactive lab on her hands.

Now the active ingredient, theobromine, causes hyperactivity, increased heart rate, vomiting & diarrhoea, heart irregularities and seizures resulting in death. Essentially it's the equivalent of giving a kid a whole lot of sugar mixed in with caffeine and energy drinks, and then releasing it into a funpark.
So when the lab arrived bouncing off the walls, it was understandably difficult to examine. He had already vomited a couple of times, purging some of the chocolate, but now needed further treatment to ensure he wouldn't absorb any more toxin. I sedated him so that he wouldn't be ricocheting off the walls of his cage and, once he had calmed down a bit, re-examined him. Even his breath smelled of chocolate as he happily panted in my face! He was doing well so we decided to give him a small feed containing activated charcoal (just in case). Unfortunately this stimulated the gastrocolic reflex...i.e. he suddenly needed to poo. ALL OVER THE PREP ROOM FLOOR. All I can say is that I have NEVER smelt anything like it - it was like pure chocolate! We frantically scrambled to prevent him from treading in it as he spun around depositing his little chocolate surprises all over the floor, trying not to fall over laughing as we did so.

I suppose it could have been worse as he could have eaten fish or something equally horrible, but it was enough to put us off chocolate for a while. Which meant that no one was interested in the chocolates dropped off by a client that morning...well, not until the smell of chocolate had been cleared from the air...

To the pub!

After a rough week last week (and it was only four days!) a few of the girls from work & I decided to hit the local pub on Friday night. It was only a few yards away down the lane so was nice and close to home.

After nattering away over a couple of drinks telling disaster work stories & comparing crazy clients (as vets & nurses & I'm sure many other professions do), we bundled out into the dark to stagger home. As I passed a couple of guys propping up the bar I heard one of them remark, "Those are some of the girls from '_______ Vets'.

Hmmm, perhaps our local is a bit too local! In the future I guess we will have to be a bit more careful about our conversations or else find a pub a little further away. Ah small towns.

My Little Pony

During my first week on the job I had to rush out to an early morning horse colic as the on-call vet was already at another call. Upon arrival I drove past several very flash cars parked outside a mansion of a house, stables that were more impressive than most houses in NZ, and a horse truck that I would be happy to call home. The horse in question was a stunning animal with a long history of colic episodes that had been treated surgically in the past. Luckily he wasn't too bad and responded well to the pain relief medication administered.

I had an inkling that there was a bit of money involved (wonder what gave it away?), but was glad that it wasn't until I returned from the call that the vet chose to inform me of how much the horse was really worth. Let's just say it's more than I would spend on a house...or two. So much for the "country hacks and pleasure horses" I was told I'd be treating!