Second opinion: Read the Rx label!

I recently was stopped by a couple riding their bicycles in my neighborhood. My reputation as a veterinarian who gives advice hit a fever pitch in my community during the pandemic.

Mr. and Mrs. Snowbird just came back from their home in upstate New York. They, like so many people, adopted a pet during the pandemic and drove their new dog Rascal, a one-year-old Corgi, down last weekend.

Prior to traveling to Florida, they brought Rascal to their veterinarian because they thought he had allergies. Rascal was shaking his head a lot and vocalized when you touched his ear.

The question that they had for me referenced back to their other dog, Ruby, a 14-year-old Schnauzer who had terrible allergies. She constantly licked her paws, scratched all the time, and rubbed her face. I recommended that they talk to their local veterinarian about Apoquel or Cytopoint allergy treatments.

The schnauzer was a happy dog after starting the medication. They were hopeful that Rascal didn’t have allergies because the medication was expensive, but Rascal seemed very uncomfortable.

I asked them about the working diagnosis. They told me that their New York veterinarian thought that Rascal had an ear infection. Two weeks ago, Rascal’s ears were red, inflamed, and painful. The veterinarian took a sample from the ear to look under the microscope and sent it out for culture.

The doctor started Rascal on an ear cleaner and pain medication and told the couple they would start treatment once the culture results came back.

The couple told me the technician at the hospital called and told them that Rascal had a bacterial ear infection and the vet wanted to start him on antibiotics. They also told them to clean his ears once a day and to continue him on the pain medications if he was still uncomfortable.

After two weeks of medication, ear cleaning, and pain medications I told them that Rascal should be feeling and looking better. They said he wasn’t and wanted to know if I could look.

As we walked to their house, Mr. Snowbird said that Rascal is not clinically better. He doesn’t seem to be in as much pain, but the veterinarian said that he would only need the medication for a few days, and he is still on them.

Rascal also hates it when Mr. Snowbird puts the medication in his ear. He mentioned that it seemed kind of cruel to put cold ear medication in an ear but what does he know. I was puzzled because I don’t know any ear medication that needs to be refrigerated, but maybe the medication was compounded specifically for Rascal.

Rascal is a sweet Corgi. He jumped up on me when I entered the house and, true to form, he smelled sour. When I investigated his ear, it was inflamed and sensitive and full of white material.

I was hoping it wasn’t pus. Mrs. Snowbird brought me the medication and it was Clavamox, an amoxicillin product that was meant to be refrigerated and given orally. I asked them if they are giving the medication orally or putting it into the ear.

I have never seen such finger pointing towards each other. Obviously, someone didn’t read the label. Mrs. Snowbird laughed and told me at least I had a funny story to tell people. Little did they know that I write articles.

Something about him was familiar

Best Christmas story or nightmare. You choose.

One day I had a new client come in with a 7-year-old Bernese mountain dog. Chewy presented with a lack of appetite, diarrhea, and vomiting. When the clients came in, I immediately recognized their dog. He had an unusual white stripe on the forehead. The puppy I remembered had the same color pattern and white stripe as Chewy. So, I asked my technician to leave the room and look up Bernese mountain dogs that I have seen over the past 7 years.

I asked another technician to come in to help me perform the physical examination on Chewy. Chewy was clinically dehydrated, his abdomen was tense, the fur on his face smelled like vomit, and his rear end had remnants of diarrhea still on the fur. I told the clients that we would need to start with some blood work and x-rays, and my technicians recruited some help to pick up this 135-pound beast onto the x-ray table. I went back into the exam room and started to talk about the other Bernese mountain dog with similar markings.

Looking back, it was about 7 years ago when a young couple bought a puppy from a breeder. It was in December and the young couple went away for Christmas and left the puppy with their friend and my client. They didn’t leave a cage or toys and the young woman who took care of the puppy left him in a spare bedroom where the puppy did tremendous damage.

One day the puppy got out of the bedroom and destroyed their Christmas tree. He knocked it over, ripped open presents, chewed up ornaments, and ate the stockings. I remember informing the young woman when she brought him in that I was going to have to perform surgery to retrieve all the things that he ate. It ended up being a problem because we couldn’t communicate with the owners based on their travel, but the surgery was an emergency. I ended up performing the surgery which went without complications. The friend ended up paying for the surgery and I found out later that the whole ordeal ended their friendship.

My technician who was doing the deep dive into the research came in and told me that my instincts were correct and it was the same dog. His name was John. When the new owners found out that his name was John they asked if the original owner’s name was Hortensia. It was.

Same dog, similar situation. I ended up telling the new owner my history with John. They adopted John about a year ago, hated the name and call him Chewy because he always has something in this mouth.

My technicians came back in with Chewy and we put the radiographs on the examination computer and we could see the problem right away. Chewy had  about 9 pacifiers in his stomach. I asked the owners if they have a child and they did. Each parent thought it was the other one that got rid of the pacifiers, but it was Chewy. I told them that Chewy needed surgery. The fact that there are 9 pacifiers means that they are not passing. I thought it was fortunate for them that when they adopted John the previous owners transferred the insurance to them, and they never canceled it. And I told them that they never will. Best holiday news ever. Love, Chewy.

Dogs have a life expectancy for a reason

I am sitting on a driveway with four other couples socially distancing and wearing a mask. Everyone is sipping wine or drinking beer. To be honest, the mask-wearing to not-mask-wearing ratio is not ideal.

The women are sitting on one side of the circle and the men are on the other. The women are talking politics and Dr. Fauci; while the men are talking football, their college’s record, and whether the SEC is still the best conference.

It was a quiet night until one of the women asked a question directed at me. She wanted to know if I knew that the last six dogs that died on our street all died of cancer and whether I should look into whether there was a cancer cell.

Let’s break down the statistics. The last six dogs that died over the past two years had an average age of 14. There were two Labrador retrievers, two golden retrievers (mine), one poodle who was 17, and a mixed breed.

The street is a fairly new street. Most of us have lived here less than three years. The electrical lines are underground and we have all had recent

Radon testing. If there is one thing about where I live, especially with the vast majority of us having empty nests and a little more disposable income, the dogs in our lives are very well taken care of and I am confident that they all moved to our neighborhood with relatively clean bills of health.

The average life expectancy for small dogs is 15-16 years, medium and large dogs 10-14 years and giant breeds around 7 to 8 years. I have been very lucky and I do EVERYTHING for my dogs and I have not had one live beyond 14. I like big dogs.

In my adult life, I have had five dogs and, other than a Keeshond who was hit by a car when I was a kid, every one of my dogs died of cancer. Let me make myself very clear, my dogs lived long enough to get cancer. They didn’t suffer from heart disease or infectious diseases but lived long enough to get cancer.

So, I answered the question with a question. In the past five years I asked everyone to think about the reasons why you’ve attended funerals. What was the cause of death?

The top three responses were cancer, heart disease, and COVID-19. I told them that those numbers probably reflect the national average. Dogs have a life expectancy for a reason, as do humans.

At some point in our aging process cancer, heart disease, and kidney disease become clinically relevant. The biggest decision, and the most humane decision we make as compassionate pet parents is that we don’t have to make our pets suffer and we advocate for them. I had to put my own golden retriever Kelly to sleep last week. She was 12. All of my dogs have lived to 14, but it was not in Kelly’s cards.

She got the dreaded metastatic Hemangiosarcoma of the spleen that is just devastating to golden retrievers. Kelly never gave me one second of grief.  he was sweet until the end, and my job was to not let her have one second of discomfort.

The woman in the circle just nodded her head agreeing that there was no cancer cell in our neighborhood. My wife sighed because hopefully the discussion was over before it got heated.

Older dogs make great pets

During the month of November, many humane societies and adoption centers worldwide bring attention to adopting senior pets.

Caring for an animal provides a sense of responsibility, purpose, and fulfillment. In more ways than one, pets can improve a person’s well-being. Not only are you saving the animal’s life, but you are enhancing your own. Pets can help reduce anxiety, depression, and stress.

Adopting a senior pet provides plenty of benefits. Older dogs usually require less training. Not only are they calmer, less energetic, and easy to train, many senior pets are house trained and understand basic commands.

Betty Delman, animal lover and creator of the phone application, “Dog, Cats, and Me,” agrees. “I just lost my 15-year-old dog a year ago. I couldn’t handle a lot of energy, chewing, and a not potty-trained dog. It was so much more relaxing having an older dog around. Everyone wants a puppy, but when they grow up, they lose interest. Older dogs are great companions. It is a friendship and easier having an older settled dog.”

Delman’s mobile application caters to kids ages four to ten. Not only does the application practice reading skills, but it helps children to learn more about dogs, cats, and the humane treatment of animals in a fun and engaging way.

Adjusting to a new home environment is easier for senior pets than puppies because they have come from a family life before being placed in a shelter.

When adopting an older animal, personalities and traits continue to develop by the time you bring them home, so you can tell right away if he/she will mesh well with your family.  Besides being calmer, senior animals do not require the constant attention and exercise that comes with puppies. Their mellow nature is an excellent fi t for older individuals and families looking to add companionship to their lives.

Delman believes that if you are unsure about adopting a pet right away, considering fostering fi rst. “If more people foster, then maybe the shelters can get more dogs and train them to be a good dog for their forever home,” Delman said.

Not only are you welcoming a lifetime of love into your home when you adopt a senior pet, but you are also saving a life with many fun years ahead.

If you are looking to add some excitement and companionship to your routine, reach out to Humane Society of Broward County, Abandoned Pet Rescue Inc, Broward County Animal Care and Adoption Center, and Paws South Florida Rescue to find your furry friend.

Interested in giving these two 10-year old beautiful cats (brother and sister) a new forever home?

Please contact publisher@theparklander.com

 

PETTALK: Tight Quarters

I have always been the Kalick family veterinary consultant, regardless of where my family lives. My family who lives in Ohio will always consult with me via the phone when there is a problem, and typically I will tell them they need to see their local veterinarian. Their veterinarian and I have become friends and she sends me all the records, digital x-rays, and bloodwork as soon as she gets them, it saves her a phone call from my aunt asking to send them to me.

One interesting thing that has changed since the pandemic is that my aunt and uncle have become very adept with Facetime and Zoom.

Today’s issue is with Titus, their cat. Titus is a geriatric tabby cat that my aunt thought was depressed because her kids moved out of the house. I would never contradict my aunt, but I think Titus is happy the kids moved out. Titus took back control of the big house, and because the kids took the dog with them, Titus gets to sit in the large bay window watching the world pass by.

However, today my aunt was concerned that Titus had a urinary tract infection because he was urinating in a closet on my uncle’s shoes.

My aunt sat in the room during the Facetime call, switching my view so I could watch Titus sleeping in the window. She wanted me to see the closet that Titus was using as his new litterbox, so she swung the camera around the room so I could see the hall closet. She told me he never used that closet before and now he never wants to leave the room.

Then she walked down the hall with her iPhone because she wanted to show me Titus’s litter box. My aunt, God bless her, talked the entire way from the front room to the bathroom, bouncing her phone the whole time. She got into the bathroom and showed me Titus’ litterbox crammed between the bathroom vanity and the toilet. It looked like it hadn’t ever been used. It. left no room for the cat to move in the box if he ever wanted to use it.

The craziest part of the story was that the bathroom door was closed like Titus could open it with his paws if he needed to.

When I mentioned that the bathroom door was closed and no one was using it, my aunt started to talk about changing the brands of kitty litter or playing music in the house. I even mentioned that if someone is using the bathroom or taking a shower, the door will never be open.

She said that she never thought of that.

Titus’ litterbox was always in the room where he slept, easily accessible, and near his food. I told my aunt that the rule of thumb is that you should have one extra box in the house.

This means: one cat equals two boxes and one of the boxes should be in the front room where he sleeps and spends most of his day.

After she thanked me and was about to hang up, I heard my uncle in the background yelling to my aunt, “What does he think of the new kitten?”

New kitten? My aunt winked at the phone and said it was a topic for another day.

 

By Dr. Glenn Kalick

My pre-COVID self lies just under the surface, waiting to emerge

Neil and I along with millions of others are entering another month of primarily staying home. As I wrote last month, I recognize that as time continues and projects wane, I have to think of new ways to spend my time in a productive manner. Let me catch you up.

Mickey Booboo is growing in leaps and bounds. He is learning many new things daily. Some I like, others I tolerate. When the devil dog emerges, we butt heads. He is vocal, opinionated, happy, and confident (he certainly takes after the two of us). He occupies a large portion of my day and I laugh out loud
at his antics, tell numerous Mickey stories to anyone who will listen, and enjoy our exercise program of walking and swimming. Yes, Mickey is a true water dog and swims all over the pool catching bubbles and bugs. I love my time with him and have looked to augment only a small portion of the day with other things.

Neil is busy with his many undertakings, yet makes time to play two-handed Canasta with me at least once a day. Besides his business and the HOA, he is working to create a mentoring program with the Broward County
Board of Education. Although we are both in the house, we generally are separate except for the card game, dinner, and whatever after-dinner activity we plan.

The biggest enhancement I have made is for my friends to occupy more of my time again. I now play both Canasta and Mah Jongg online with friends (simultaneously using Houseparty) three afternoons a week, I have a couple
of friends over to swim one day each week, and try to do an occasional lunch, dinner, or coffee and dessert outside (socially distant). By creating a regular recurring weekly schedule of these things, I am more satisfied both socially and having utilized my time in a positive way. This addition has made a world of difference.

I continue to try new recipes, and while some turn out to be delicious, others have been mediocre at best. Prepping and cooking combined with planning a shopping list for Walmart pickup occupies a number of hours, and this is something I have thoroughly enjoyed.

My cousin Sharry has tried a number of my creations and shares many of
hers with me. Again, I think I always get the better end of this deal as hers are
always delicious.

While I have nearly run out of house projects, there is one remaining that I have consistently hesitated to start. The project is going through all of my and my mom’s old photographs. I know that this should be done as it will preserve family history for my grandchildren, but somehow, I dread the poignant, emotional hours and days it will entail. Maybe I’ll start this month.

There is a word that describes my life during the pandemic: Pentimento. It is the reappearance in a painting of an underlying image that had been painted over, usually when the later painting becomes transparent with age. The earlier image may be visible initially, become visible with age, or revealed through X-rays. I feel that way about my life now. I have changed the surface of my life, substituting things that enable me to be happier in my new normal, but the elements of my previous way of life are still there, under the surface, waiting to emerge. I pray for a vaccine.

 

By Jill Vogel

PETTALK: OK, who’s the stupid one now?

To my wife, I am probably getting a little judgy, but I literally had a Clint Eastwood moment from Gran Torino when he tells everyone to “get off my lawn.” To better explain, I was walking on Juno Beach and maintaining a 6-foot social distance as my wife and I walked on the sidewalk along the road. It was one of those days that said it was 88 degrees but the RealFeel index said 107. We brought water and, probably every 1⁄4 mile, there was a shower under which we kept wetting our baseball caps.

It was nice to be outside and see something other than the same houses on the block, then we heard someone behind us, but could not see him. He had one of those booming voices. I knew he was from New York from the accent and it took nearly 30 minutes for him to catch up to us. There he was, wearing a t-shirt without sleeves, a Yankees hat, mirrored sunglasses, and walking a 6-month old Boxer pup. Over the thirty minutes it took him to catch up to us, I heard about his life, his girlfriend, his frustration with the pandemic, and the stupid dog he bought. It wasn’t until he was close enough that I realized it was a puppy.

When Mr. Yankee was right behind us, I could see that the puppy was thirsty. He was hyper salivating, and when he walked by the showers you could see him try to lick the puddles on the sidewalk, but Mr. Yankee pulled on the leash because he was walking and having an intense conversation on his phone. For the next quarter mile, the puppy kept walking on the grass and Mr. Yankee pulled him back on the pavement making comments on his phone to whomever he was talking to about the puppy being stupid. I made sure that we stayed close. Mr. Yankee was about to walk by the next shower when I stopped and decided to tell him that the puppy was thirsty. Mr. Yankee told me that he didn’t bring a bowl and I told him to cup his hands and fill them with water which he did, and the puppy drank three handfuls of water.

He looked at me and asked me if I was a vet or something.
I told him that I was. He asked me if I could look at his dog’s weird walk. His last dog was a German Shepard and he had to put him to sleep because of hip dysplasia and this puppy never walks straight. I said that I would but I told him that hip dysplasia is a radiographic diagnosis. I asked him what the puppy’s name was and he said it was Aaron, after Aaron Judge, the Yankee superstar. Figures. I watched Aaron walk and he kept getting off the pavement and walking onto the grass. Mr. Yankee kept pulling him onto the sidewalk. This happened multiple times and finally Mr. Yankee stopped and said to my wife and I that this dog either has hip dysplasia, needs extensive training which his German Shepard never needed, or is stupid.

I looked at Mr. Yankee and saw that he was wearing sneakers. I asked him to take off his shoes. He asked me why. I told him it was a training trick. I was so surprised that he listened to me and when he stepped on the pavement, he jumped off the pavement and onto the grass. He told me that it was “f****n hot”. I agreed. Aaron is not stupid he has probably burned his pads and wanted to walk on the grass because it is cooler. He picked up his puppy and saw that the puppy’s pads were raw. It was great watching Mr. Yankee carry Aaron back home.

 

By Dr. Glen Kalick

Pet Talk: Socially distanced, we told stories on my driveway

One night my wife and I were socially distancing with neighbors on my driveway. People that I have never met, neighbors that have been living on the street for years were coming out of their home quarantines and bringing chairs and coolers to my driveway. The six chairs grew to 20 and we all stayed six feet apart. I learned that more than half of us were in the healthcare profession. The other interesting thing I learned was that everyone owned a dog and most of us recognized each other by their dogs. I went from the golden retriever guy to the veterinarian who lives in the two-story house on the corner. That was fun.

As the evening went on it was like a classic joke: A veterinarian, a physician and a dentist walk into a room. Literally, a dentist and a physician and I spent more than an hour trying to outdo each other with the crazy things we have seen, removed or took off a patient. At least my patients have an excuse why they do some weird stuff but what the physicians or dentist had to do for their patients was mind- blowing.

Then the conversation went to clients and patients that
did not follow the golden rules. The physician was a dermatologist and discussed skin cancer from not using suntan lotion. The dentist talked about severe dental disease from not brushing and flossing and I talked about the emergencies that I saw from not spaying and neutering.

I met a guy years ago who wanted to adopt a dalmatian. At that time, I was the veterinarian in charge of the Dalmatian Rescue League of South Florida. The only requirement to adopt was a home inspection and review of their current pet’s health care. The potential adopter owned two Pekinese dogs, and neither were spayed.

The owner did not have an issue that the female dalmatian that he wanted to adopt was spayed but had no intentions
of spaying his Pekinese. He wasn’t going to breed them but has never spayed or neutered a pet before and didn’t believe in it. I was a younger veterinarian and respected the owner’s opinion but was steadfast that he was not going to adopt this dalmatian. It caused a big problem for the rescue group and

for me. What I didn’t know was that he was a politician. He wasn’t used to not getting his way.

About a week after I told the owner and his kids that they were not going to adopt one of the dalmatians I got a call
on my after hours emergency line. It was from the politician. He was at an emergency hospital in Fort Lauderdale and his dog was being prepped for emergency pyometra surgery. Pyometra is when the uterus fills like a balloon with pus. It is the nightmare scenario that can happen when you don’t spay your female dogs.

He wanted to know if I could do the surgery, not because of my reputation, or that he respected me professionally, but he wanted to know if I could do it cheaper than the estimate he received at the emergency center. I hung up.

Back to quarantine. At the end of the night a female neighbor approached me. She told me my story gave her the courage finally to spay her Labrador. Her last dog died due to sepsis from a ruptured pyometra.

By Dr. Glenn Kalick