This week’s blog is a feel-good story. You may have seen this on the news. There is a huge, new, multi-million dollar, state-of-the-art veterinary facility in Texas for dogs that have participated in the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan and have been injured. This facility is dedicated to returning these veteran dogs to health, and providing them with the best medical care known to canine-kind. All I can says is, bravo! These dogs serve just as our servicemen and women do, and risk their lives and health and well being, just as humans in the armed services do. They certainly deserve the same kind of care that our wounded veterans get, in my opinion.

All of the stories in the news about the poor care returning veterans get, even at the biggest and most well known medical facilities for veterans, are distressing. Like most Americans, I believe that our servicemen deserve only the very best of care, for both their physical wounds and their emotional and mental ones.

As a dog lover, I believe that the canines in the war effort deserve the same treatment. Finally, this would appear to be happening.

Laws finally seem to be catching up with conscience, as compassion for animals becomes legislated–horses, pigs and chickens now have rights, which is as it should be. The transporting of horses across state lines for the purposes of slaughter will soon be a thing of the past, and in some states pigs and chickens cannot be kept in tiny cages in which they cannot move. It is a fact that violent criminals frequently begin their horrific careers tormenting animals, so it is not unrealistic to analyze any society’s standards of compassion and kindness toward all by its treatment of animals.

Because of this, isn’t it time that the AKC updated its breed standards so that dogs that no longer work, but are only shown, may be shown in their natural state? Ear cropping and tail docking purely for aesthetics has been outlawed in Europe for a long time, and dogs are shown in their natural state there. But here, various breeds require surgical intervention to be shown, and the cruelty inherent in this act, and the pain we cause dogs, must be realized.

I have an Australian Shepherd, and he does do some work on my horse farm. When he was a tiny puppy, my ex insisted on getting his tail docked and his dewclaws removed. My ex insisted that this would make the dog less likely to get injured while working, but this is something I would never do again. The poor puppy cried and cried, and was clearly in pain following the surgeries, which were done under the most humane circumstances possible, with anesthesia, and performed by an excellent veterinarian. Other puppies, from what I understand, are not so lucky.

Perhaps these surgeries do indeed help some working breeds. But for other breeds, surgical alterations are performed for the purposes of showing only, and this is, in my opinion, ridiculous. Dogs are beautiful in their natural state, and should be shown this way. Especially callous, it seems to me, are the alterations performed on dogs whose original purpose was fighting. We frown on dog fighting today, and it is outlawed, yet we still crop ears and tails on breeds designed to fight. The alterations on these breeds were designed to alter their physiognomies so that their opponents had nothing to grab onto–if fighting is now outlawed, why continue this practice?

It is time for the AKC to come into the twenty-first century, and to extend humanistic values to our beloved pets.

If you have a business that works with live animals, you should never underestimate the risks involved. No matter how safe you are, how well-trained you are, how many precautions you take and procedures you have in place, when you work with living things, accidents will happen. I’ve had a horse boarding business since 1990, and I maintain a mental list of things I wish I’d never seen, and it is a long list. The mare with her leg cut to the bone in two places, the muscle hanging out; the mare with the bone-deep cut to her stifle; the simple colic case that turned into a heart attack before my eyes, and my vet’s; the foaling disasters, including red bag deliveries and hydrops amnion; the stillborn filly, perfectly formed and gorgeous, that would breathe as long as I did artificial resuscitation, but would not breathe on her own; the list goes on and on. I have wonderful clients who understand the risks inherent in caring for Thoroughbred horses, and I have excellent and expensive farm insurance, to protect myself from lawsuits, should they exist.

However, if you have a salon, day care, or any other dog or cat related business, you have to protect yourself. Gathering information and getting your clients to give you information about their pets is the best way to start this. A client waiver form, on which the client must reveal all information about his or her pets, is the best way to start the process of revelation, and these forms should be kept on file, and signed anew on the first of every year.

What should be in these client waiver forms? Here is a list of some suggestions:

How old is the dog or cat? If the dog or cat is geriatric (I’d suggest over seven years old is a good place to start), the owner should sign off on awareness of added risks from the stress of grooming to geriatric pets.

Does the dog or cat have epilepsy? If yes, is the dog or cat on any medication for epilepsy?

Does the dog or cat have arthritis, or any other debilitating illness that will make grooming more difficult? If yes, what is the illness, and what restrictions apply to the animal’s ability to stand on a grooming table?

Has the dog or cat had surgery recently? Are stitches still in the incision? Is the dog or cat on any medication for this surgery?

Is the dog or cat less than a year old? If yes, has the dog or cat been groomed before?

Does the dog or cat have any other chronic or recurring illness or injury which the salon should be aware of?

Does the dog or cat have any behavioral/temperamental issues–aggressiveness, nervousness, shyness, willingness to bite–that may make this animal more difficult to groom?

Finally, you must get all pertinent phone numbers for the client, should an emergency occur–the home phone, the work phone, the cell phone, and which the client can be reached on most easily at which times of day.

There is always an ongoing debate about which veterinarian to use in the event of an emergency. Many groomers want to get the phone number and address of the vet the client uses, should there be an emergency. But this seems to me to be complicated and perhaps dangerous. I insist that my clients use my vet of choice, because I know I can work well with him, and he is the closest vet to my farm. In an emergency, every second matters–you don’t want to go looking for a vet’s office that is far away, or in an unknown location. So I suggest using the closest vet to your salon, and the vet who is closest whom you trust. You may want to ask that all your clients open accounts with this vet, so that in the event of an emergency, there are no payment issues to stand in the way of first class veterinary treatment.

All of this will help you to deal with an emergency, which will, eventually, occur. Being prepared is the best start to dealing with a crisis–a dog’s or cat’s life may hang in the balance.

An article posted online this week suggested that dogs are probably smarter than we think, and have emotions analogous to human emotion. Duh! Is this really news? Do any of you doubt the intelligence and emotional depth of your pets?

My dogs eavesdrop on everything said in my house. They are always listening for words they know, and maybe even for whole sentences. Anything said about food, cats, going for a ride, going outside, and goodness knows what else registers with them, and they respond to the conversation appropriately, usually with enthusiasm.

My Maine Coon cat, who I think of as the dumbest cat I have ever owned, with those huge, glossy, empty doll eyes with their vacant stare, and his apparent lack of awareness of anything happening in the world, just surprised me the other day. I get up very early every day, and am working before dawn with the horses, so when I can, I like to lay down for an hour at lunchtime. When I was going to do this yesterday, I said, “anyone want to take a nap with me?” And who should come running behind me, then ahead of me, and then jumped into bed and waited for me–my Maine Coon cat, who promptly curled up next to me. He understood! He responds, as well, to one other question–”Anyone want drugs?” This cat loves catnip more than any cat I’ve ever known–he just loves being stoned. He will come running from anywhere in the house when I offer drugs. This certainly indicates to me that he understands more than I give him credit for, but only chooses to respond to the very few things that interest him–clearly going to bed, and getting catnip. This might make him smarter than the average bear.

And emotions? Animals have them. It was suggested in the article that the devotion dogs feel for us must be seen as similar to what humans experience as love. Can anyone doubt that? But there are other emotions animals feel, certainly. My most recent adopted cat, Daryushka, was found on the street of the small town I live in by my vet’s wife. She was nearly dead, unable to walk, her equilibrium destroyed by a massive ear infection. When my vet called me and asked me to adopt her, I instantly said yes, and he provided all the medication, plus spaying and vaccinations. I took her home and worked on getting her healthy, and I have no doubt that this cat is grateful, a complex emotion that suggests an awareness of the past as it applies to the present. Yushka adores me, always comes when I call her, and clearly loves her life as a house cat. Her gratitude is unquestionable–I wish humans were as aware of gifts given in the past.

Finally, we have to consider animals’ love of ritual. Animals have expectations of us, based on past events, and love ritual as much as we humans love religion (which is one of the most basic of human rituals). Every time my dogs go outside, then come back in, they expect a cookie. When I give my cats their evening can of Fancy Feast, Yushka comes and sits in a chair at the dining table and waits to be offered the top of the can to lick. The horses can tell time, and are always waiting at the two daily feeding times. If I’m even ten minutes late, they will be stamping their feet and pinning their ears, chastising me, by the time I get there.

We humans like to think of ourselves as the monarchs of consciousness, superior to all so-called “dumb” animals. I would suggest, however, that the consciousness of our pets is every bit as complex and interesting as our own. Anyone who doesn’t believe this needs to come to my house and offer drugs to my Maine Coon cat.

For some reason, a number of students have voiced the same question in this week’s classes, and coincidentally, I’ve recently had experience with the issue which concerns them. That issue is cats’ sensitivity to various toxins, and what to do about it.

A couple of weeks ago, I was in my vet’s office, waiting for some horse medication I had run out of and had to pick up. A couple, both with stress and panic written all over their faces, came in, each cradling a beautiful, sick-looking Persian cat in their arms. The vet’s office came to life, as they had been expecting this emergency. Here’s the story: the woman’s mother had been left babysitting the cats for a day, and she decided to help out by applying the monthly Frontline on the cats. But she made a crucial error–she applied canine Frontline to the cats, rather than the Frontline specifically for felines. Within an hour, both cats were vomiting; seizures followed soon after. It was then that the cats were rushed to the vet.

It was clear from the looks on the vet techs’ faces that this was a very dangerous situation, and that the prognosis for these cats was not good. The woman owner appeared near tears; the man’s expression was one of horror. They clearly loved their cats dearly, and had no idea that such a thing could happen. The Persians were taken into the inner sanctum of the vet’s office. I wish I could say that the ending was a happy one, but in truth, I don’t know. I was afraid to ask.

Cats are among the toughest creatures on earth. Bites, scratches, even broken bones don’t seem to affect them terribly. I had a cat with a compound fracture of one of her hind legs–the bone was sticking through the flesh when I found her–and she didn’t cry or seem too terribly bothered. To me, cats are up there with alligators and cockroaches in terms of toughness and ability to survive just about anything. Cats are just an opposable thumb away from ruling the world…or give them wings and watch them create a reign of terror. I have the utmost respect for cats and their amazing athletic gifts, and their iron constitutions.

The one chink in a cat’s armor is its sensitivity to any and all toxins. Chemicals which wouldn’t give a dog a moment’s pause can kill a cat–insect repellant, air deodorizers, or any household substances will make a cat deathly ill. Many houseplants will too. And any products meant to be applied to dogs, such as flea and tick control products or wormers, will kill your cat. The cat’s body cannot deal with the modern world of chemicals–the cat is made for a more natural world through which it can prowl with safety and ease. The world of man-made chemicals, which we take for granted as bettering our environment, are deadly to cats.

If your cat comes into contact with any chemical or product not meant for felines, you must rush your cat to the vet instantly. And cat-proofing your home and garage and yard is a must. The king of the jungle is no match for canine Frontline. You’ve been warned.

The expense of pet ownership has always been an issue for responsible pet owners, but these days, with the economy as it is, good veterinary care is even more expensive. If you own multiple pets, getting all vaccinations and essential care can cause you to lay awake nights worrying about the bill. But there are alternatives, and if you learn how to do a few basic procedures yourself, you can save a lot on vet bills and wellness care for your pets.

Can you give an injection? You’ve undoubtedly seen your vet do it a hundred times. Most of us have a certain amount of needle phobia, and certainly care must be taken. But if you can learn how to give an injection–you can ask your vet to teach you–you can save a fortune on vaccinations. The vaccinations your vet gives to your dog or cat are available online for a fraction of the cost–for example, a ten dose vial of rabies vaccine only costs about $12! Many states insist that vets give rabies shots, and that you need proof of rabies vaccination for your pets, but if your state doesn’t, this is a great way to begin saving money on vet care. Other vaccinations are similarly less expensive online. Go to www.jefferspet.com and have a look at what they offer. Then, next time you take your pet into the vet for a vaccination, ask for instruction from your vet on giving your pet an injection. The savings will be amazing.

Similarly, there are online stores that offer most anti-flea and tick prevention products that you usually buy from your vet, only at lower cost. Frontline and other flea-prevention medications like it are available at substantial savings, and if you have multiple pets, the bit of research will be well worth it.

Learning how to treat other minor illnesses and injuries can likewise save you money, and save your pet from the stress of a trip to the vet. By keeping a well-stocked first aid kit in your home, and being able to treat minor wounds, bites, and other accidents and illnesses, you can care for your pet yourself. I’ve treated cat bites myself for years–I shave the area around the bite, flush the wound with nolvasan, hydrogen peroxide, and sterile water twice a day, and apply triple antibiotic ointment twice a day. One cat of mine is always getting into trouble, as he is a lover, not a fighter. But he’s easy to doctor, and I’ve saved hundreds of dollars in vet bills by being able to treat him myself. Not all cats and dogs are so easy to handle, but if you’ve got such a pet, give it a try next time your pet is injured. Of course, a trip to the vet might still be necessary–monitoring the wound, and being aware if it has transcended your abilities as a doctor, is essential. But with a little courage and commitment, you can have the satisfaction of making your pet well, and saving your checkbook too!

This is a cautionary tale. My male Australian Shepherd, Fergus, is by no means an obese dog. He gets exercise, as he goes out to feed the horses with me twice a day, every day, and we walk significant distances during feeding, not to mention the requisite cat chasing and investigating of new and interesting manure piles in the paddocks which he considers to be in his job description. He is a big boned dog, unusually so for an Aussie, to the point that his appearance is more that of a Chow Chow than an Aussie, and he does carry some weight because of the thickness of his body. He has been active his whole life, and I never thought that he’d suffer the injury which he just suffered two weeks ago.

We were out feeding in the morning, and Fergus and my terrier mix, Pip, were running and playing while I was carrying buckets of feed. The two dogs turned a corner, and I heard Fergus yelp and saw him slow down. He was instantly three legged–one of his back legs had been injured.

I’d seen the same type of injury ten years ago, when a Border Collie/German Shepherd mix, my beloved Wooly Bear, did exactly the same thing. Turned a corner, yelped, and was instantly gimpy. Wooly Bear had the same body type as Fergus–huge bones, a heavy-bodied dog. When she was a puppy, she appeared to have had a hula hoop inserted into her ribcage when she lay down to nap–that was how huge her bones were. Wooly Bear had torn her anterior cruciate ligament, I found out–a career ending injury for many professional athletes, and just as bad for a dog. At that time, I lived in a tiny town in Texas, and I didn’t have a veterinarian I trusted. The vet I used admitted he had never done a surgery on this type of injury, though he was more than willing to try. I demurred–my Wooly Bear, perhaps my favorite dog of all time, because of her utterly delightful personality and blithe spirit, was not going to be experimented on. Without surgical correction, however, Wooly Bear was never the same, and about a year later, she tore the other back leg’s anterior cruciate ligament as well, and was impaired for the rest of her life.

So I knew what had just happened to Fergus, and I took him right into my vet. My diagnosis was right–a torn ACL. But I now have a wonderful vet, whom I trust, and the surgery was performed two days later. Fergus is still recuperating, so I have yet to see complete recovery. The moral of this story, however, is that even a slightly overweight dog is at risk in terms of such injuries. Keeping your dogs fit and thin is essential–their legs weren’t created to carry the extra weight put on by table scraps and special treats. Both of my dogs which suffered this kind of injury were of the same type–heavily boned dogs, with thick, dense bodies. Both got exercise, and were relatively fit. However, both carried extra weight, and suffered for it.

So open your eyes, and look at your dog’s physique critically. The hit your checkbook will take, and the suffering your dog will suffer from the initial injury and then the surgery, simply aren’t worth it. If your dog is at all overweight, do something about it now.

The economy is on everybody’s mind these days, and particularly this week, with the huge financial bail-out of Wall Street making its shaky way through our Congress. Most regular people can’t understand exactly what is at stake in this bill; I know I don’t get it, and don’t know what’s right for us. All we know is, we’re paying so much for gas we can hardly afford to fill our cars up, that groceries are so high we have to watch every penny we spend, and that times are scary. For those of us who are animal lovers, there must be another concern: how are people able to feed and support their pets? What is happening to all of the unwanted animals in the country?

This week, I had to spend $500 on a surgery for one of my dogs–he tore his anterior cruciate ligament, and, without the surgery, would have been crippled for life, and probably would have torn the other anterior cruciate ligament from over-compensating on that one good leg. I don’t have $500 to spare, as a number of my horse clients have not paid me for months, or have paid only pittances, because horses are a luxury, and these people are hurting. Luckily, I have a great relationship with my vets, and they will let me pay off my dog’s operation. After just a few days, my dog is putting weight on the leg again, and doing great. However, this has been a real hardship, and has forced me to put off buying myself a new winter coat, which I badly need, and other things that will help me get through the winter of feeding horses in the cold.

The horse market has completely collapsed–people have been literally giving yearlings away. I myself have been given two really lovely mares in the past few months, by people who simply don’t want to pay to board mares that didn’t get pregnant this year, no matter how nice their pedigrees are. Horses are being abandoned all over the country, and unscrupulous owners and trainers at various tracks are still trying to send unwanted horses to the killers.

And on the news, I’ve seen reports about the fate of dogs and cats whose owners have had their mortgages foreclosed. When many people lose their homes, and are forced to move into apartments or rented homes, they can’t take their pets with them. Frequently, these pets are simply left behind at the old house–owners don’t even have the decency to take these animals to humane shelters or pounds, or try to find them new homes. These dogs and cats are left behind to starve, or die of thirst. How can people treat their devoted companions this way?

Those of us who love animals, and worry about the plight of animals, must step up. If you have anything extra–money, time, food–this is the time to call your local humane society or animal shelter and find out how you can help. We humans can understand what a little belt tightening is about–we can cut out extravagance in our budgets, drive a little less, eat out a little less. Animals don’t understand why they are missing a meal, or why they are left behind. It is up to us to help care for them until the economy improves.

The largest Thoroughbred yearling sale in the world is going on right now in Lexington, Kentucky, at the Keeneland Racetrack and Sales Pavilion. It is well worth seeing–the quality of the yearlings is beyond belief, and the money being spent, even in an economy such as our current one, is also amazing. But whenever the world of animals collides with the world of commerce, issues arise which are questionable in terms of the well-being of the animals, and this is the case in the Thoroughbred world, where such great wealth changes hands for promising babies.

Much like in the dog world, in which puppy mills are excoriated, the Thoroughbred world has serious problems in terms of unscrupulous breeders willing to do anything to sell yearlings and other horses for high dollar amounts. There are 5,500 yearlings going through the Keeneland sale–the majority opinion in the business right now is that overbreeding is rampant, and supply far exceeds demand. Given this, bad business practices among breeders and consignors are sure to exist–it is hard to sell a yearling right now, so virtually anything goes.

The Thoroughbred business is trying to crack down on the use of performance enhancing drugs such as anabolic steroids, and Keeneland will test any yearling for those drugs if requested–but the potential buyer must pay $500 for the test. Clearly this will prohibit widespread testing, as lower priced yearling buyers cannot justify that expense. Other longtime, questionable procedures include massive alteration of a yearling’s hooves, almost to the point of crippling the yearling, so the yearling’s feet appear to be perfect, and any conformation issue with his legs is disguised. Surgeries are done as well to correct malformation of limbs, and, though these are supposed to be announced at sales, I’m guessing that surgical correction of conformational issues are kept hidden most of the time.

I don’t agree with the PETA claims that racing is cruel to the animals. Anyone who cares for Thoroughbreds, who raises foals, knows that these animals race each other naturally, and love to run–the sheer pleasure it gives to them makes you glad to be alive. However, it also seems clear that these questionable business practices need to be controlled and eliminated from the business, much as puppy mills must be controlled and eliminated, to insure that cruelty to all animals does not exist.

The controversial Dr. Kevorkian aside, we humans do not have euthanasia as an option when we are so ill that our quality of life is severely compromised. We go on until we can go on no more. For our pets, however, we have an option that is one of the most horrifying and upsetting decisions we will ever have to make. We can have our beloved pets and animal companions put down, and spare them a life filled with pain and discomfort. This decision, however, is fraught with pain for us, because taking the life of a creature that you love cannot be done without sadness and guilt. For people who love animals, this may be the most ghastly decision you will ever have to make.

How can we know when an animal’s quality of life has deteriorated to the point that going on living is more punitive than dying? I worked for an equine veterinarian for a year, not an ordinary equine veterinarian, but one who specialized in critical care, in saving horses who other vets had given up on. We had a hospital filled with horses so ill it broke your heart to walk down the barn aisle and look in on them. Many of them displayed a courage and an ability to live with pain that amazed me. But there came a point for many of them when they refused to stand, to eat, to do anything life-affirming. They gave up, though their tests results demonstrated no appreciable gain in their illness’s strength, or in their own weakness. They simply refused to go on, and at this point, the veterinarian euthanized them. As much as possible, he allowed them to make this decision for him. As long as they demonstrated a desire to go on, he would carry on too.

That idea informs my willingness to euthanize an animal, as I too could see the look in those horses’ eyes that said, “I’m done.” I have a very ill mare right now, suffering with a massive infection of her coffin joint. She had the same thing a year ago, and the vets wanted me to put her down. But I refused. This mare, Mikey, eats with gusto, loves her foal, and is as feisty as a crippled horse can be–she clearly still loves being alive. Against the wishes of the veterinarians, I went on with her, whirpooling and bandaging her leg, and giving her massive doses of antibiotics on a daily basis, along with pain medication, and I got her through last year’s episode, and got a gorgeous foal out of her. This year, when the infection returned, I thought it might be the end for Mikey, but once again she has shown that indominatable spirit that makes it impossible for me to end her life. I just can’t do it–Mikey wants to live. After more whirlpooling and bandaging and injecting her with antibiotics and giving her oral pain medication, she is turned out in the paddock with her friends once again. She lays down a lot, and doesn’t walk so well, but she nickers at me for meals, and her foal, a gorgeous colt, protects her and guards her when she rests. I have waited to see that look in Mikey’s eyes that says she’s had enough, but she hasn’t given in to that, and I believe I honor her great spirit by helping her to go on.

I have, however, euthanized more horses and dogs than I want to remember. A mare I loved dearly, whose recurring bouts of colic became more and more severe, until the day came when she wouldn’t even touch one of her beloved carrots, and she had that look that said she was through suffering. Another mare with an infected puncture wound on a leg–the vet told me I could send her to the hospital, run up a ten thousand dollar bill, and she would probably still have to be put down, because of the depth and severity of the wound. A dear old dog who I’d rescued from a pound in Las Vegas, New Mexico, when he was a puppy, barely able to walk, in constant pain, seemingly unaware of his surroundings most of the time. All of these deaths still weigh heavily on my conscience, as I love the lives of my animals, and do not believe that taking life should ever be done lightly. However, in these cases, I know I did the right thing.

I wish there was a formula I could give that would insure you were doing the right thing when you euthanize a pet or animal companion. There isn’t. The only formula I know is that you will do it, and you will suffer for it for the rest of your life. In a way, that seems fair and just. The responsibility for an animal’s life, and death, is a heavy burden–anyone who thinks otherwise should not own animals.