Do Animals Have A Sense Of Humor?

I have wondered about this question on many occasions. Do they see the humor inherent in life? Do they play practical jokes on each other? On us? I picture them sometimes around a food bowl, or water bowl, their “Cheers”, discussing the funny things in life over a broken bottle of bourbon someone scavenged from a trash can. Based on real life experiences, I envision a couple of hawks, a dog, and an African grey parrot all swapping stories at “the bar”:

Dagwood the Dog: “It’s great being a dog! Those humans can be so gullible! Flash them a cute look, droopy eyes, a little whine, or such and they will bend over backwards for you! The “Power of the Pitiful” is amazing! I once stopped a whole line of traffic! I was trying to get across this busy road, but there were so many cars that I knew a had two chances of getting across alive: slim and none. But I remembered a little trick from a time in the past when I had hurt my foot. I went into the bushes near the road, and when I came back out, I walked three-legged. My “poor” front foot was held up high in the air and I struggled as I loped along in a very stilted manner, barely able to make each step. I limped right up to the road, and you know what?!?!? Those foolish humans all stopped their cars! I hopped across the road, leg in the air, as all the drivers looked pitifully at me. There was almost an audible, collective “Awww, poor thing!” in the air. After I made it across, I looked over my shoulder to be sure I was clear, and put the old front foot down solid and traipsed off on my merry way! I never looked back again!”

Horace the Hawk: “You wanna talk about stupid?!”

Henry the Hawk: “Shut up Horace!”

Horace the Hawk: “Naw man! I gotta share this one!”

Henry the Hawk: “Don’t do it Horace, it’s embarrassing!”

Horace the Hawk: “All the more reason to tell it my boy! You see old Henry here fancies himself a crackpot predator! But his eyesight is going a little bit and so his skills are not what they used to be. One day we were out hunting lunch and Henry saw this furry little brown thing on the ground. It didn’t move when we flew over, but Henry thought it was just trying not to get noticed. Well ole Henry here was gonna show it a thing or two about hiding from the ‘Great Soaring Hunter’! With all his feathered bravado, he swooped down silently, snatched the fuzzball up in his talons and swooped triumphantly over to a field next to this vet clinic. The fuzzball never shrieked in terror, never struggled, it didn’t make a sound. So again Henry here, trying to be the tough guy, landed in the field, looked around to be sure no one was going to try to take his catch, and proceeded to tear into lunch! Imagine his surprise when all he got was a beakful of white fluff!! It seems Henry had managed to disembowel the dreaded ‘Teddy Bear’!!! Oh he was beside himself! He dropped the bear where it was and slowly took off over some houses, trying to ignore the giggles of the people outside the vet clinic!”

Angela the African grey: “I got all of you beat! You should see the stunt I pulled on my owners! I had been living in my Mommy’s house for months, and she recently got married. While they were on their honeymoon, they boarded me at a vet clinic. I didn’t really want to leave home, so I paid them back. While I was at the clinic, when everything would get quiet and the staff was all busy with their daily duties, I would start reciting the noises I had heard many times in my house. First I would start with rhythmic panting or huffing noises. Then I would throw in some well timed moans and grunts. Next I yelled ‘Yes! Yes!’ over and over again, screaming my Daddy’s name. I would make all these noises in my Mommy’s voice. Oh, I forgot to tell you, she kept me in the bedroom! I would do this a couple times a day for the whole week and the staff thought it was the funniest thing! They would laugh and comment, which would of course only encourage me to do it louder! The real kicker was when they came to take me home. They asked the doctor how I did and if I talked much.  The entire staff giggled a little under their breath as the doctor explained with as straight a face as he could that I was VERY vocal, and that I enjoyed talking daily, and considering the fact that we African Greys are the best mimics of the human voice in the parrot family, they could tell I was probably more my Mommy’s bird. When my Mommy asked what I had said, the doctor paused a bit before saying that he did not want to repeat it, but that they might want to keep me in a different room in the future. It took a moment, but Mommy figured it out. I didn’t know people could turn that color that fast! I giggled my little feathery butt off the entire way home!”

Yes I was personally involved in or witnessed these stories! Nature is beautiful. Nature is exciting. And sometimes, it is downright funny!

How Do You Do What You Do?

I have been asked many times how I do some of the things I do. Sometimes people mean the messy things, the odiferous things, the “gross” things.  Many times they mean the painful things. When the time has come when there is nothing more we can do for a pet, and the only humane thing is to help the owners let their pet go, end it’s suffering. It is never easy, but often it must be done. After years of experience, you wonder if you have become distant or immune to the pain. Then every once in a while, one such procedure opens your heart, and lets your emotions flow more than you ever thought they could. This often does wonders for one’s perception of oneself and of others as well.

One such example is one we see too often. I am reminded of a client who was a single man, rather rough and abrupt. When in the clinic he always spoke of his dog, Max in dismissive terms. He almost seemed to try to pass it off as a joke, but he appeared visibly angry with every visit. We had diagnosed Max with early liver failure, but had several treatment options available. We treated Max for a while and saw him and his owner frequently. When anything of consequence would happen or if Max required medical care of any level of expense, he would verbally blame and deride Max as if he had planned his illness. It really looked like the sicker Max was, the angrier the owner was with the dog. It was quite appalling at times, but we never said anything. He always did what was necessary, no matter how begrudgingly. We never saw him raise a hand to the dog, but the staff at that time was never happy to see his name on the appointment book and the older Max got, the more often we saw him. Then the day came when there was nothing more we could do for him and the appointment book showed the last appointment of the day was Max for a euthanasia. Throughout the appointment and the procedure, the client continued his angry attitude, seemingly directed at Max. After everything was done and we left the room, the entire clinic could hear the gut wrenching sobs of the client. It has been very seldom in my life when I have heard such raw sorrow and despair. We could see him through the small window, laying over Max, visibly shaking with grief, repeatedly saying “I’m so sorry I couldn’t do more Max.” There wasn’t a dry eye in the clinic and everyone finished the day in almost pure silence. Looking back I think his escalating angry behavior was how he expressed his increasing frustration with his pet’s condition. 

Sometimes children, in their raw innocence, can surprise us with their perspectives, and can open our eyes. I see this randomly as well. There was a family who had brought in their Lab, Jake for euthanasia. The parents had brought their eight year old son with them to the appointment. I think they wanted to use the event as a teachable moment for their son. (I see many families struggling with explaining death to their kids, and the loss of the family pet often gets used to “get their feet wet” and open the door for further discussion on the matter.) After Jake had passed, the family had shed their tears, and the parents were ushering the son out of the room. The boy surprised his parents, and the rest of us, with his next move. He turned to Jake and pulled a beat up tennis ball from his coat pocket. He placed the ball next to Jake’s head and said, “Here you go Jake. Now you and Grandpa can play fetch again like you used to.” The tears started anew. I think their son figured out more than the parents ever suspected.

Both of these examples like so many others, helped me see the value in that particular service that I am sometimes asked to offer: the release it gives to some, the peace it gives to others.

It shows me that the love people feel for their pets is just as strong and just as important as the love they feel for other people and family members.

It shows me that the pain they feel at the loss of their pet is very real. 

It shows me once again the incredible strength of the human-animal bond, and my part in helping to maintain that bond.

That is how I am able to do what I do.

Happy Thanksgiving!!

It’s that time of year when we take the time and energy to consciously verbalize all of the things for which we are thankful (even though we should be doing this daily, me included)! So here I go pouring out my thankfulness as well.

I am  thankful for my Lord and my faith. They keep me going when nothing else seems to work, they ease my pain, bolster my self confidence, assuage my doubt, and pull hope from nothing. Without them I would not be what I am or where I am. I do not know where you stand, but pray you have a similar source of strength for your troubled times.

I am thankful for my family. They are always there for me, no matter how badly I mess up, how grumpy I may be, how forgetful I get, or how troubled my psyche may become. They also cheer me on, give me the drive to continue, and help me celebrate the victories in life no matter how small.

I am thankful for my country. It isn’t perfect, still needs some work, but at the end of the day it is the best of all things there is out there.

I am thankful for our military. Not the establishment or  the organization, but the individuals. I am thankful there are men and women who so love this country that they are willing to offer their lives so that I can continue my way of life.

I am thankful for my business. I get to make a living doing something I enjoy, something that is never the same day to day, something that challenges me mentally. I get to work with a fantastic group of people who help me do the best job I can every day. I am thankful for the owners of the pets I get to treat. Without the love and devotion they have for their non-human companions, I would not be able to do what I love.

I am thankful for my health. Despite whatever health challenges I may have, there are so many more people who struggle so much more than I do. I am fortunate to be able to enjoy the level of health that I have, and to have access to the quality of health care that we take for granted in this country. So many people in the world never see a doctor once in their lives.

I am thankful for the diversions in life that de-stress me, give me enjoyment, offer me escape: things like music, British comedy, poker, movies, massage, friends, The History Channel, soccer, writing, beer, et al.

Lastly, I guess I am thankful for new perspectives. I have a friend I played soccer with in high school who posted something on his Facebook page that I had to copy because of the perspective it offered. I will close with what he posted while wishing you and yours a very safe and happy Thanksgiving holiday. I hope you have much for which you are thankful, and I hope you realize them all:

“If you have food in the refrigerator, clothes on your back, a roof overhead and a place to sleep. You are richer than 75% of this world. If you have money in the bank, in your wallet, and spare change in a dish someplace. You are among the top 8% of the world's wealthy. If you woke up this morning with more health than illness . You are more blessed than the million who will not survive this week.... If you have never experienced the danger of battle, the loneliness of imprisonment, the agony of torture, or the pangs of starvation. You are ahead of 500 million people in the world. If you can attend a church meeting without fear of harassment, arrest, torture, or death. You are more blessed than three billion people in the world. If you hold up your head with a smile on your face and are truly thankful. You are blessed because the majority can, but most do not. If you can hold someone's hand, hug them or even touch them on the shoulder.You are blessed because you can offer healing touch. If you can read this message, you just received a double blessing that someone was thinking of you, and furthermore.You are more blessed than over two billion people in the world who cannot read at all. Have a good holiday, count your blessings, and pass this along to remind everyone else how blessed we all are. Wishing you Happy Holidays”

Attack Of The Antique Mites

Once again the full moon attracts some of the most interesting calls. I sometimes feel like people just need someone to talk to, or they are looking for justification for their position from a professional. I wonder how many arguments I have been inadvertently instrumental in resolving (or propagating). Some of these calls still stick hauntingly in my mind. Some still stick in my skin.

I awakened by this emergency call about 2 a.m. during a full moon:

The pager said “Patti O’Furniture, XXX-XXXX, hamster with mites”

Okay, I was thinking: “So mites are never fun, probably less so on a hamster, but emergency?!?! Really?”

I called Patti and she proceeded to relate the following to me:

Me: Hello, this Is Dr. Martin. How can I help you?

Patti: Hi Doctor. I am over at my friend’s house and her little girl has this hamster. The hamster keeps scratching and itching a lot so we thought it must be mites.

Me: There are several possible causes for itching in rodents. Mites or other parasites are definite possibilities. They are seldom emergencies and we can probably take a look at them tomorrow.

At this point one would expect most people to be relieved that they did not have an emergency, thank me for my time, and call the next day for an appointment. But now that Ms. O’Furniture had my ear (at no charge because we did not charge unless we went in for the appointment) she intended to take advantage of the captive audience.

Patti: I had heard that you can see mites and such if you turn the lights off and then shine a flashlight on the surfaces. We turned off the light and we could see the little bugs in the hamster’s cage and on the top of the dresser too, but we didn’t really see any on the hamster. I told her it wasn’t from the hamster but maybe it was from the dresser she keeps the hamster on.

Me: Without actually seeing the hamster or the bugs, I would not be able to determine if they were mites or if they came from the hamster, so again the best course of action would be to check the hamster out in the morning.

Patti: We tried the flashlight thing again after taking the hamster to another room. I turned the light off, turned on the flashlight ... [in a slight conspiratorial whisper] AND THE MITES WAS STILL THERE!

Me: Well since the mites would not be able to move very fast I am not surprised you still saw them there, even if they did come from the hamster, which we still are not sure about.

Patti: Then I remembered that my friend had also just bought an antique rug from somewhere and she kept it rolled up in the bottom drawer of the dresser, so we opened the dresser, rolled out the rug, turned off the lights, turned on the flashlight ... [in a definite and LOUD conspiratorial whisper] AND THE MITES WAS STILL THERE! I told her she shouldn’t have bought that rug cuz it looked dirty, but she wouldn’t listen. Do you think the mites came from the hamster?

I tried to keep my skin from crawling off my body at the following thoughts:

1.       The rug in question was “antique” but not necessarily from an antique store. This meant it may very well have been in someone’s grandparent’s house for decades.

2.       If that were true, then the bugs were probably from decades of breeding and living off whatever they could find, including the dander of whomever had lived there.

3.       If they had been breeding for decades, then there were probably up to millions of the little guys.

4.       Since they were not just in the rug, but were on the dresser and near the cage and to the point that they caused irritation in the hamster, they were on the move and probably hungry.

5.       If they had migrated that far, there was nothing to say they weren’t infesting the house or apartment already.

6.       Why didn’t the mother call herself, or was she battling the mites? (picture animal tamer outfit,  tiny chair and tiny whip; or Indiana Jones attire waving a small torch around)

7.       It was the little girl’s hamster. Was the dresser in the little girl’s room?

Me: I would recommend we check the hamster tomorrow and at the same time you should call a pest control agency to get the house treated ASAP. The bugs probably did come from the rug, but we can’t be sure.

Patti (in an overly satisfied tone): Thank you Doctor. I’ll tell her to do that.

Then in the background as she was hanging up the phone: “I TOLD you not to buy that stupid rug!”

I never saw the hamster, nor heard from Patti O’Furniture again.

I’m still not sure why they called, or why they chose 2 a.m. to check for mites. I am also not sure I helped as I am not certain what they wanted from me.

That was probably one of my itchiest nights ever.

I sure hope they got the little girl’s room cleaned.

Just Another Case of Full Moon Fever? (Apologies to Tom Petty)

We are in a full moon cycle as I write this, and it reminded me of the effects the full moon often seems to have. The full moon has historically been linked to all sorts of phenomena, rituals, religious sects and practices, mental disease, illnesses, plagues, etc. You name the strange or negative occurrence and the moon has probably been blamed for it! Even the term lunatic is derived from luna meaning the moon. There seems to be some credence to this idea as we know the moon affects the tides and seasons to some degree and many weather patterns can be influenced as well. More assaults, violent crimes, poisonings (self and unintentional), and animal bites occur near a full moon. There seem to be more incidents of emotional instability and insecurity during the full moon cycle. Horse owners and veterinarians can attest to and document a rise in the number of horses presented for signs of colic (an often life threatening intestinal disease of horses that many times needs surgery to correct) during full moons. There are many theories as to why this occurs, ranging from positive and negative ion changes in the body, to the silver light or other wavelengths of light, to the gravitational pull on our body or on the pathogens in our bodies, to the fact that the Earth is about 80% water and our bodies are close to 80% water. No matter the reason, I think we all can attest to the fact that we have all experienced some strange behavior during the full moon.

I was fortunate enough to experience this “full moon fever” (apologies to Tom Petty, my favorite rock singer, for using the title of one of his better albums) when I used to work at another clinic where I took emergency calls every other week. Sometimes the call load would be very lean, but others would be filled with emergency calls, some of which required a trip to the clinic. And then there were the full moon calls! I would like to relate one such call today.

It was about 4:00 am on a weekday morning. My pager at the time was alphanumeric so I would get messages from the service that I could read and then call the number when I was available to do so. That night I was awakened to the following message (again the name may not be the client’s actual name): “Willie Morris, dog with busted leg.” So I called the number and it rang for quite a while before a woman answered in a very strong Southern drawl):

“Yeah, who is this?”

“Hello. Can I please speak with Willie Morris?”

“Naw, he ain’t here.”

“Are you sure? I was instructed to call him at this number.”

“Naw, he ain’t here.”

“Well this is Dr. Martin and I was paged to call him about an emergency.”

“Oh! Emergency?! Hold on uh minute!”

So they found Willie, and we started discussing his dog:

“Yeah, well ya see Doc I got me this here dawg. She’s not too big a dog, only ‘bout thirty pounds or so. She’s part Rottweiler, part Pit Bill, and part Chow. I mixed them up on purpose so’s she wouldn’t be mean or nothin’. Well, she’s a couple a years old. She’s standin’ here on three legs drinkin’ some water. I think her leg is busted.”

“Well how do you think she may have busted her leg?”

“Well ya see Doc, I was getting ready to leave for work, and I was in the driveway backin’ out muh car and heard a ‘THUMP!’ so I said ‘oooh, nooo!’ and I put it in drive and went back and heard another ‘THUMP!’ and then she yelped. She didn’t yelp the first time.”

So after ascertaining that Willie had inadvertently driven over his dog TWICE, I wanted to be able to give him a ballpark estimate of what it might entail with examination, x-rays to determine the extent of the damage, surgery, etc. Using what little information I had and the probability of surgery with metal implants, I gave him the range of what it might entail. After giving him all the details and the estimate, the rest of the call went like this:

“So you can see Mr. Morris, there are a lot of possibilities with a broken leg depending on how badly it is broken and in how many places, but once I see her and do some x-rays, I can give you a better feel for the costs of fixing it.”

“Hmm….well Doc, thank you for tellin’ me that. But like I said she’s standin’ here drinkin’ some water and not really makin’ any noise. I think she’s gonna be alright. I think I’ll just wait and see how she does. And like I said, I just backed over her leg, it’s not like I backed over the WHOLE dog. And I backed over her in my four cylinder, it’s not like it was a BIG car.”

I never heard from Willie again, but I did stare at the phone for a bit wondering if I had dreamed the whole thing, until I was reminded of the moon from the light streaming through the window.

Should Cats Be Made To Change Their Moral Compasses?

I would have to say that the vast majority of pet owners truly love their pets and want to do the absolute best by them at every turn. Sometimes constraints of time, or money, or physical limitations may not always allow that. It does not mean their attachment is any less than the person who is able to do everything for their pet.

Some people go as far as to consider their pet as their child, at least emotionally so. Sometimes that is just the level of attachment to which they are comfortable, sometimes they were unable to have children and so the energy that they would have put towards a child is channeled into their pets.
They may assume all human drugs are safe for their dog or cat. They may believe symptoms expressed by their pet are the same as those expressed by humans. There are also those that think the absence of certain symptoms or the lack of severity of certain symptoms means a disease is absent or not significant for their pet. All of these are a natural progression of thought when pets are viewed as humans, but they can lead to all sorts of problems. These are the ones that may be an unwitting detriment to their pet's health.

But there are those whose personification of their pet extends to the assumption that the social mores of human society are recognized and embraced by the four-legged community as well. I am reminded of a particular experience in which this level of personification had a more amusing outcome.

I was working at another clinic years ago when I had a lady bring her cat to me for what she was sure was the end. I had never seen this client or cat before, so I had no previous history to review and no prior contact with this client to understand which level of personification she exhibited.

We'll call her cat Jasmine and pretend the name has been changed to protect the client instead of admitting the author is having a bout of cerebral flatulence and simply can't remember the name. Jasmine had been experiencing some strange behavior, some clinginess, and a progressive abdominal swelling. The owner thought she was either filling up with fluid from some failed organ (as had happened to a family member of hers), or that she had some huge tumor developing (as had happened to another family member). Either way she was sure she was losing Jasmine.
I took one long look at Jasmine and presumed the abdominal swelling was cause by her being pregnant. She seemed to be feeling fine and alert and not at all abnormal other than the size of her belly.
I looked at Jasmine and then at her owner, we'll call her Ms. Carmichael (since Jones and Smith are so incredibly over used as generic names for story-telling purposes), and told her “She looks like she may be pregnant.”  And then the following exchange (or something close to it) ensued:

Ms. Carmichael: “That’s not possible Dr. Martin!”

Me: “So she is spayed then?

Ms. Carmichael: “No she is not, but even though I never intended to breed her I did not feel it was necessary to do the surgery. I felt that if even if I decided not to have children, I would not need that kind of surgery either.”

Me: “Well, on feeling her abdomen I feel distinct masses that feel exactly like kittens by their shape, size and position, so I still believe she is pregnant. We can take some x-rays to get a better idea.”

Ms. Carmichael agreed and after the x-rays were taken, I put them on the view box to show the three unborn kittens in Jasmine’s tummy.

Me: “As you can see there are three kittens visible on the x-rays, so if we let nature run its course, she should be fine and you will have three new kittens to enjoy! After that, if you do not want any more, I would recommend she be spayed.”

Ms. Carmichael: “I still do not understand how this could have happened!”

Me: “Well she very may well have gotten out one time when you were not looking during her heat cycle and got impregnated by a stray cat in the area, and then returned with you none the wiser about her little ‘outing’.”

Ms. Carmichael: “That is not possible either as I know for a fact she has not been outside the house for any reason for over 6 months!”

Me: “So there is no way she could have come in contact with a cat that could have bred her, even possibly a friend’s or relative’s cat that came to visit perhaps?”

Ms. Carmichael: “No I have had no outside cats some to visit me either.”

At this point, before getting ready to be the first veterinarian to write up a confirmed case of an Immaculate Conception kitty, I remembered a little lesson taught me by several clinician’s in vet school, that when getting the history or information, often you have to reword the same question several ways in order to get the information you need. I tried one more approach to solve this mystery.

Me: “So is there no possible way that Jasmine could have come into contact with any other cat and  there are no other cats in your household except Jasmine?”

Ms. Carmichael: “Well, there is only Tommy.”

Me: “And is Tommy neutered?”

Ms. Carmichael: “No he isn’t.”

Me: “Well I think we must have our Daddy!”

To which she replied with the most honest expression of horror: “No Dr. Martin, it couldn’t be Tommy! He’s her BROTHER!”

So I ask again, should cats be made to change their moral compasses? I think Ms. Carmichael would answer a resounding “Yes!”