My patients, My life

     In telling the story about Bobbie the Chinese Muntjac, I never told the story about her name.  She got her name because of her bobbed tail.  But, how she got her little nub of a tail is the rest of the story.  At her previous home she and 16 other Muntjacs were housed in an enclosure with a little burro. Since she was then the crazy, high strung, over caffeinated little Bambi that she is now, it seems the weary little burro was having a bad day and just grabbed her by the tail as she zipped by and picked her up. She struggled naturally and continued on her way with half her tail still in the mouth of the burro. Ouch!

     Tomorrow, Friday the 23rd will make 3 weeks since her surgery.  I promised my readers updates.  I visited with her recently and was very pleased with her progress.  She was bearing full weight on the broken leg.  Although that is a good thing in some respects, as her surgeon I wish that she would have a little more respect for my work. I sometimes envy my human surgeon counterparts because at least they can reason with or even threaten their patients to behave.  Mine just run off in the dust.  Keep her in your prayers, it seems to be working so far and thanks for reading my little blog.

Norm

Aren't I Cute??

     For my entire life I have been showered with compliments on how sweet and cute I was.  I guess it is all true because so many have said it and I never heard an opinion to the contrary.  It is sometimes a burden to bear but hey, somebody’s got to do it so it might as well be me.

     My name is Chloe.  I am a Miniature Dachshund.  My life is pretty much that of the little princess that I am.  My mom is my best friend. I love her very much and I am quite certain that the feeling is mutual.  So it hurt me greatly to see my mom suffer when it was I who was feeling so bad. Continue reading →

The greatness of a nation and its moral progress can be judged by the way its animals are treated.

Mahatma Gandhi

     As a newly anointed veterinarian I went back to live and practice veterinary medicine near my birthplace in Memphis, Tennessee. In my clinic on more than one occasion I heard, in my waiting room, the voices of the other Moms in the neighborhood of my youth explaining to my clients my childhood shenanigans. I do not remember participating in most of the transgressions which they recalled, but I believed them.  I still feared them because in our neighborhood any mom had full authority to help ensure that you “turned out” OK.  They were apparently granted this authority by virtue of theory of universal momhood.  

     I preface my story with these thoughts so that the reader can understand from where I come.  I am very lucky.  I am lucky because I have been able to enjoy a very fulfilling life doing what, apparently, I was meant to do. For that stroke of good fortune I will always be grateful. I am grateful to my mom and all moms. For love, compassion and always teaching me what was right and what was wrong.

     It is therefore, with great consternation and personal sadness that I must tell the story of a local tragedy.  It is a story of man’s utter disregard for compassion, decency and understanding of animal welfare.  It is about my struggle to understand how a human, with 99.9999% of the same genetic makeup as me, can treat two hundred little dogs like they were wilted cabbages in a forgotten garden.  Continue reading →

     Friday, January 2, a holiday for many but I went to the clinic to do paperwork and inventories and all the dull stuff.  I didn’t think I would be seeing many patients.  But I was precisely two sips into my first cup of coffee when the phone rang.  My tech told me Susie was on the phone and it didn’t sound like a social call. Now the reader will recall that Susie is one member of a wonderful covey of caretakers at the Tallahassee Museum of Natural History.  These folks are pros in every sense of the word so when there is anxiety coupled to their words you can figure it’s going to be a long day.

     “Dr. Griggs, my Muntjac is limping,”  she offered as she got right to the point.

      My tech was right, no “Happy New Year” tone here.  I sat down with my coffee to hear this one out.  Fortunately for me, one of the other keepers had brought me a poster about the new visiting animal exhibit featuring the Chinese Muntjacs.  I at least had a picture of this alien beast that I had never even seen, hanging right over my desk.  As Susie recited symptoms and circumstances I gazed through, still half conscious eyes at the photo of a Muntjac. The little thing sure had skinny little legs I thought.  Hope it isn’t broken and if it is I hope the fracture is high in the leg.

     I asked Susie how it moved and she replied, “In a blur.”

 Great. How are we going to catch it?  She said Mike and his blow gun most likely. 

Muntjacs - Bobbie is the blurred one.

     The Muntjacs are in a very public exhibit and the Museum is open and it’s a holiday and geeze, this just keeps getting better (worse?).  I told her I’d see her in the  afternoon and I would bring the X-ray equipment and some capture drugs. I hung up the phone, leaned back in my chair, looking at the picture and sipping my, now cool, coffee. This could be interesting. Continue reading →

     It is all fun and games now but this little Piggy scared the begeebers out of his doctor.  “Mushoo” (don’t you just love that name?) is a wonderful little Guinea Pig or Cavy as some call them.  These guys make delightful little pets but they can be real heart-breakers because when they get sick,  someone usually ends up crying.   

Mushoo Pork

  Mushoos mom, Joy, loves him bunches and you can see why. His picture depicts his personality to a tee.  Mushoo is recovered in this picture but about ten days before I had to have “that talk” with his sad mom because the only way he could breathe was with his head held up, mouth open and his neck stretched out.  An upper respiratory infection had developed into pneumonia and I stumbled for the words to prepare her for an impending tragedy.

      Although she listened carefully to the gravity of my diagnosis, Joy put my prognostications of an impending funeral aside and kindly asked for my plan to avoid this untimely event.  Happy to move on to another subject I again stumbled as I explained his need for antibiotics and how these little guys often have serious problems with antibiotics. I could see by the look on her face that she had enough of my “doom and gloom” talk and to get about fixing Mushoo Pork. Continue reading →

     Yesterday, Christmas day, marked the third Christmas in a row that my youngest son Cody could not be with us.  Melody and I made the four hour drive to Pensacola to spend the day with Travis, our other son.  It as a great day but understandably, our Christmas glass was but half full.

     Cody is a proud United States Marine corporal.  Seems like the summer before last we watched him pitch his first baseball game. He was eight years old. He was a good baseball player, we treasure the memories of the countless games in the hot summer sun. It just seemed that, even though they got taller every year, they would always be our kids. There would always be another game, another dusty uniform stuck to a sweaty kid on the ride home from a game.

     Where does time go?  We all say that old cliche’ or think it when we have said it too many times. Nevertheless it is true. The truth of it has a certain sting to it. Yesterday is, indeed, gone forever. Thank God for memories. Continue reading →

     I recently made a new friend.  As you might imagine, this new friend of mine is about to be introduced to you.  I also want to share with my readers a concept that, through our friendship, he has taught me.  I find it a difficult, esoteric sort of life lesson to explain.  I may fail to convey it clearly,but I shall, nevertheless, make an effort.

     Turtle time, that’s it. 

Tommy's Paint Job

     Four and one half weeks ago Cypress Rudloe, a friend and turtle lover happened upon this full grown Gulf Coast Box Turtle crossing U.S. 98, the Florida scenic byway.  A turtle on a busy highway, taking his time, turtle time, no hurry, no worries. Cypress kindly stopped his car and walked back to help a stranger safely along his way. That was the first good thing that happened to this turtle, “Tommy” as I now call him, in a long while. Cypress knows a thing or two about turtles and immediately recognized that this one was in grave condition. Continue reading →