Dog in a Hot Pickup Truck

Today Isaac and I went to Kroger to pick up a few things.  As we walked across the parking lot to the store, we passed a pickup truck.  I heard loud yapping and looked over to see a small curly-haired dog in the truck.  The temperature outside was mid-70's.  The driver's side window of the truck was rolled down just a couple inches.

It gets far too hot far too quickly in a closed car on a warm day.  When it's just 72 degrees outside, the temperature inside a car, even with a window down a little bit, can reach more than 100 degrees in just 30 minutes.

I went directly to the customer service desk and talked to the manager.  I explained that it was too hot for a dog to be left in a car and that I was worried about the dog's well-being and asked if she could page the customer to come to the desk and let then know that.  She said sure.

So Isaac and I got on with our shopping.  I was delighted that the manager was so agreeable and understood the concern.

When Isaac and I left the store about 25 minutes later, though, the dog was still there.  I don't know if the owner didn't respond to the page or if they just didn't share my concern for their dog's health.

I decided to write a note and leave it on the windshield of the car.  I tried to be as polite as possible.  I said something like, "Hi.  I noticed your dog was left in your truck for quite a while.  You probably don't realize this, but it's really dangerous to leave a dog in a car on a warm day.  When it's just 72 outside, the temperature in a car can reach more than 100 in less than 30 minutes, even with the window down a little.  At that temperature, dogs can have heatstroke and die.  Please leave your dog at home next time you come shopping.  I'd hate for anything to happen to your dog."

While the dog had been very yappy when Isaac and I passed the truck on the way into the store, it hadn't barked at us on our way out.  It did not bark at me as I approached the truck.  When I lifted the windshield wiper to put my note on the windshield, it looked up and barked a couple times, but seemed rather listless.

I went back to my car and sat there for a couple minutes, watching to see if maybe the owner would come out of the store.  I was worried.  I suspected the dog was getting dehydrated.  I didn't think it could be in that truck too much longer.  I have no idea how long it was there before I even arrived, but now it had been more than half an hour.

I decided to call the police.  I called the non-emergency number and spoke with a woman who seemed to understand the seriousness of the situation.  She said she would contact the dog warden.  I asked if she knew how long it would take the warden to arrive and stressed the urgent nature of the situation.  She said she didn't know.

However, she called me back about two minutes later to tell me the warden was on her way.  She said the warden was at the dog shelter (which is about three minutes away from Kroger) and was already on the way, so she should be there any minute.

I didn't wait around to see what happened.  I was really happy with the response I got, though.  The manager of the store, the woman at the police department and the dog warden all seemed to understand the seriousness of the situation, which actually surprised me a little, but also made me very happy.  I thanked the woman at the police department profusely.

A Visit to the Vet

Isaac had to see the vet today for a vaccine.  I also wanted the vet to look at one of his teeth, which I noticed a couple weeks ago appeared oddly discolored.

There is a donkey that lives next door to Isaac's vet.  Last time I took him to the vet, Isaac barked and barked at that donkey.  Today, he just looked at the donkey like oh, that's no big deal.

Isaac now weighs 75 pounds.  He's gained four pounds since the last time he went to the vet, which was about two months ago.  I think that's partly because he hasn't gotten to go for a run as often as I'd like him to, both because of the weather and because of dog walkers that don't show up regularly, and partly because he talks me into too many treats.  So I guess we need to cut back on the treats a bit.

Isaac does not like it when the vet listens to his heart and lungs with the stethoscope.  He doesn't mind getting shots, but he thinks the stethoscope is rather scary.  He tried to hide behind the vet tech, and then when he realized it was inevitable, the vet was actually going to touch him with that scary stethoscope, he assumed the facial expression and posture he assumes when he's getting his toenails cut.  He looks very, very sad, as if he just can't believe anyone would do something so awful to him.

The vet said his tooth is fractured.  He must have bit down on something and cracked it.  He usually chews on bones and toys and things with the side of his mouth, not his front teeth, but somehow he cracked this one in the front.  I bet it hurts.  He hasn't been acting like it hurts, but I think it must.  Now he has to have it pulled.  They can't do it for two weeks, though.  Poor baby boy.

Isaac's vet, by the way, is the Ashland Road Animal Clinic in Mansfield, Ohio.  If anyone is looking for a good vet, I highly recommend them.

Took Cayenne to the Vet Today

She hates going to the vet, she's scared, but there is one thing I like about taking her.  Because she's scared, she gets super snuggly.  I hold her in my arms the whole time and while normally she would never sit still for that, she's happy to snuggle in when we're at the vet.  I enjoy getting to hold her.

Her blood sugar level is good and she has gained back almost all the weight she lost when she was so sick a couple months ago.  However, she had conjunctivitis (pinkeye) and now I have to put ointment in her eyes twice daily for one week.  That sounds like fun, huh?  She doesn't even like me to wipe eye boogers out of her eyes.

Keeping My Vet in Business

This evening, I noticed my kitty Indigo is limping.  She is favoring her left front paw.  I looked at the foot very carefully and can't find anything wrong with it, no sores, no thorns, nothing visible and when I gently squeeze the foot she doesn't act like it hurts.  But she doesn't want to put weight on it.  Since she otherwise appears to feel fine, I don't think she needs to see the vet on an emergency basis (which is good because my vet charges an addition $75 fee for emergency visits outside of normal office hours) but if she is still limping Monday morning, she'll have to go to the vet.

The last time I had a cat that was limping and couldn't see anything wrong with his foot, it turned out he had a fractured hip.  And he was only limping slightly and I'd waited about 24 hours before taking him to the vet to see if the limp would just get better, because I had no idea he was seriously injured.  I felt just terrible when the vet showed me the x-ray.  He had to have surgery and I forget how much it cost but I'm sure it was a lot!

I love my cats.  But I don't think my vet needs a new car or a vacation just now, and if he does, I don't want to fund it!

Animal Hoarders

Have you seen that show Animal Hoarders?  I'm watching it on Netflix.

Now, I can kinda understand how someone could hoard cats.  I love cats.  And kittens are so adorable.  I have three cats right now and the reasons I don't have more are mainly because cats get unhappy when they are too crowded and because I cannot afford to care for more than three.  I feel very strongly that people should not have more pets than they can care for properly, and that includes paying vet bills.  I just spent more than $1500 on Cayenne's vet bills and believe me, I can't afford another cat right now! 

The most cats I've ever had at one time was six, and besides the cost issue, the "cat density" was too high.  One of our cats began spending almost all of her time outside, rarely even coming in to eat.  She used to hunt and leave mice on our patio for us.  She typically stayed out all night and there would be one or two mice waiting for us almost every  morning.  Then she would come in and sleep in the house all day.  But after we adopted five other cats (she was the first), she began staying outside almost all the time and began eating the mice she caught.  She didn't even want to come in to eat.  I felt bad for her since she was here first and got crowded out, but she was obviously unhappy, so we found her a new home.  We found her a home where she would be the only cat and get lots of attention and she was much happier there.

Anyway, hoarding cats I can kinda understand.  But on this episode I am watching, this guy hoards chickens.  He has 158 of them.  In his house.  That I don't get.  If you wanted to have 158 chickens, why not build them a big chicken coop?  I mean, even if you didn't mind the horrible mess in the house (and how could you not?), the chickens would be happier outside.

Animal hoarding is really sad, I think, because of the terrible conditions the animals end up living in.  When people hoard things, their lives may be miserable, but when they hoard animals, the animals suffer.  It makes me sad.

Feline Diabetes

I know this is not related to service dogs, but I wanted to share a couple links to some articles I’ve written on feline diabetes, published on Yahoo Voices.  Diabetes is not uncommon in cats, especially older cats.  Cayenne was diagnosed with it when she was about nine years old, I think.  With diet and insulin injections, it can often be very well controlled and cats can live pretty normal lives.  Cayenne’s diabetes was managed well on just ½ a unit of insulin a day until her recent illness; now she’s getting two units of insulin daily.  I also switched her to a diet of wet cat food, instead of dry, and only feed her specific varieties that are low in carbohydrates and high in protein.

Caring for Cats with Diabetes

http://voices.yahoo.com/caring-cats-diabetes-2706132.html?cat=53

How to Feed a Diabetic Cat

http://voices.yahoo.com/how-feed-diabetic-cat-5730752.html?cat=53

At the End

End of life issues are something all pet owners have to face at some point.  Let’s face it, most pets have shorter lifespans than their owners.  I think there are some parrots and some turtles that live around 100 years, but if you’re talking about common pets like dogs and cats, they are going to leave us some day.  Depending on the breed, a dog might live 12 to 14 years.  A cat might live a few years longer than that.

It seems strange to me that we live in a society in which animals are usually not treated with much compassion, or at least, the law does not require them to be treated with compassion.  However, it is legal to euthanize an animal.  If a pet is suffering, if a pet has no hope of a meaningful recovery, we can choose to end things.  We do not afford human beings the same compassion in this country.  The law says we should let them suffer.  But that’s another issue, perhaps for another time.

Something I’ve learned, though, is that even though it’s legal to euthanize pets and even though most people consider it an act of compassion, it’s hard to know when it’s the right time to do it.  Owners are afraid of doing it too soon and they are afraid of waiting too long.  Do it too soon and they deprive their beloved pets of a few more days of life and love, and also deprive themselves of a few more days of their pets’ love and companionship.  Wait too long and their pets suffer, and they hold themselves to blame.  I have heard many people express concern that they did it too soon or that they waited too long, but I have seldom heard anyone say they thought they picked just the right time.

I’ve only had to make the decision to euthanize a pet once so far.  Patchouli was a stray kitten I got when she was very tiny.  I learned that she had feline leukemia, which is sort of like AIDS for cats.  She was not expected to live more than a year or so.  But she lived to be about five.  Except for one kidney infection, she was healthy until the end.  At the end, of course, she got very ill.

I knew she was dying.  She stopped eating, stopped doing anything.  But she didn’t appear to be in any pain.  She was sleeping all the time and seemed peaceful.  My partner (not Mike, a former partner) and I sat beside her on the bed, talked to her, told her stories, sang to her.  I don’t know if she even knew we were there, but it was peaceful.  I worked for a hospice at the time and I had attended many peaceful deaths at home.  That’s what I wanted for my Patchouli.

Instead, about midnight one night, she began having seizures.  She fell off the bed, seizing.  She lost control of her bladder.  She howled, the most horrific sound I’ve ever heard in all my life, a sound of immeasurable pain.  Maybe she wasn’t really in pain, maybe the howling was just part of the seizure activity, I don’t know.  But it sounded like a creature in immense, unending pain.  All night long, she seized and howled, and my partner and I cried, not because we were losing her but because we were helpless to stop her suffering.

We were waiting in the parking lot when the vet arrived at his office the next morning.  She lay in my arms while the vet inserted a catheter into her vein, asked if we were ready, and then injected the medication.  Instantly, she was gone. 

My first emotion?  Relief.  Relief that it was over, that she wasn’t suffering anymore.  I was sad that she was gone and I was sorry I hadn’t made the decision to euthanize her a day or two earlier, in order to spare her that last horrible night.

I’m wondering when the time will come to make this decision about my kitty Cayenne.  And I know it will come.  And the time will come to make this decision about my service dog.  The time will always come.

Sorrow is constant and the joys are brief.
Seasons come, bring no sweet relief.
Time is a brutal but a careless thief
That takes our lot and leaves behind the grief.

~ Emmylou Harris, “The Pearl”

Caring for a Sick Cat

My kitty Cayenne had surgery two weeks ago to remove two masses from her abdomen.  One was benign, one was cancerous.  She seemed to be doing fine until two days ago, when she refused to eat dinner.  This is a little girl that loves to eat!  It is highly unusual for her to turn down dinner.  When she refused to eat breakfast yesterday morning, I knew something was really wrong.

We took her to the vet, which was this big hassle because when I called our vet’s office, I was told that the vet that usually sees Cayenne was off that day and couldn’t see her until the next morning.  I said that she needed to be seen right away and asked why the other vet in the practice couldn’t see her.  I was told, repeatedly, that she would have to wait until the next day to see her usual vet.

So Mike called another local vet and explained the situation and they agreed to see her right away.  We went to our regular vet’s office first and asked for copies of Cayenne’s records.  Our vet, the one I was told repeatedly on the phone was off that day, happened to be there and he asked what was going on and when we explained it to him, he said, “Oh, no!” and of course he would see Cayenne and bring her right in.

It turned out she had a temperature of 105 degrees (normal for a cat is 100 to 102 degrees), so she was pretty sick.  The vet thought she had an infection somewhere but couldn’t find the source.  Her incisions from the surgery look good, her chest x-ray was clear, he couldn’t find anything that looked infected.  She got subcutaneous fluids, a bunch of blood work, and an alcohol bath to bring down the fever (I bet she just loved that).  

She had to spend the night at the vet’s, which I didn’t feel very good about because there is no staff there overnight.  That just doesn’t make sense to me.  She’s very ill so she should be left alone for the night?  Not be at home where I could watch her all night long, if necessary?  The vet said he would be there until late in the evening and the techs came in early in the morning but that would still be several hours she would be alone.  I ended up leaving her there but I was really regretting it about midnight last night.

I called the vet’s office this morning and was told she’d eaten some food overnight, but then threw it up.  I felt bad about that.  She was stuck in a little cage where she’d vomited and there was no one there to clean it up until morning.  And then they gave her medication to prevent nausea, but if she’d been home with me, if they’d sent some nausea medication home with her, I would have been able to give it to her as soon as she threw up.

Well, she’s home now.  She is clearly not feeling well but her temp is down.  She is sleeping on the kitchen floor right now which is an odd place for her to sleep, but it’s really hot in my house and maybe the tile floor is cool and that’s why she wants to lie there.  She hasn’t eaten anything yet, and I’ve offered her stinky canned cat food (which she normally loves) and Greek yogurt (which she normally loves even more).  She’s had a lot to drink, though.  And she’s been moving around some.

I will be staying up with her most of the night, making sure she eats and drinks.  If she doesn’t eat something voluntarily soon, I will put a little yogurt on my finger and put it in her mouth, or wipe it on her lips so she’ll lick it off.  I’m also going to try offering her a little raw milk and a bite of cheese, other things she normally loves.

I do not have a green thumb.  I cannot grow plants.  I can’t even grow a cactus.  But animals, I can take care of those.  I have nursed quite a few animals back to health.  Once I took care of a sick hamster, getting up every hour all night long to feed him water with an eyedropper and one corn flake each time.  I lived in a house without air conditioning then and it was summer and about 95 degrees that day.  It cooled off a bit at night but not that much.  I put plastic bags filled with ice all around his cage to try to keep him cool.  I learned that trick from a hospice nurse when I used to work for a home care hospice.  We had a patient that lived in an old house without air conditioning and he was in bed dying when it was 90-something degrees out.  The nurse tied plastic bags filled with ice to the bed rails all around his bed.

Anyway.  Plants, I kill, but animals, I usually save.  So I’ll be up tonight, hopefully saving Cayenne.