Vets are always taught, quite rightly, the power of effective history taking. The value of it is undeniable, particularly in certain disciplines, such as dermatology.
However, over the years I’ve learned to clarify with owners exactly what they are saying. For example, I’ve found “he’s not eating” means quite different things to different people.
The “so what I understand from what you are saying is that he hasn’t touched his food for a week?” question can sometimes produce an “oh no, it’s just he hasn’t eaten his Boneo/prawns/mixer (delete as appropriate) for the past few days”, or “she’s eating human food, but not her own food” is another common reply. So it’s always worthwhile just clarifying with owners what they mean – you might be surprised by the reply.
The homeless come with a certain stigma – particularly those with pets at their side.
Should we be concerned for the welfare of those animals, whose owners cannot afford to feed themselves so surely cannot adequately care for a companion?
Of course we should.
However, instead of claiming these pets should be removed from their owners, Ruby Shorrock (a fourth year vet student at the University of Glasgow) took a different approach.
Being homeless can be extremely isolating and lonely. For some of these people, their dog is their only companion, and can often be the only thing keeping them going. A dog can also provide a connection to home, and so the reluctance to give them up is understandable.
Despite this, many shelters refuse to accommodate dogs and so the help available can become increasingly restricted for homeless dog owners.
In light of this, Ruby founded Trusty Paws, a non-profit organisation that hosts free clinics and provides preventative care for hounds belonging to the homeless. The clinics involve a free health check (a clinical examination performed by veterinary students, supervised by a qualified vet), microchipping, flea and worming treatment and vaccinations. Dog food packages and other supplies such as leads and dog coats are also given out at the clinics.
Trusty Paws: a vaccination clinic for dogs belonging to the homeless, run by fourth year vet students at the University of Glasgow.
There have been three Trusty Paws clinics in Glasgow so far, with several grateful clients being able to benefit from the supplies donated and the services provided by the students. Everyone involved is delighted with how the clinics have been received.
Plans for 2015 include registering as a formal charity and organising public fundraisers. The Trusty Paws team also intends to tackle the problem of local shelters and hostels not allowing dogs.
Trusty Paws relies entirely on donations and sponsorship and the response to requests for both has been exceptional. The concept has really taken off and looks to gain popularity and success in the future.
The work of Trusty Paws is a fantastic way of not only actively ensuring quality care for homeless pets, but also raising awareness within the community to tackle public perception. If these misconceptions can be eliminated, others will be willing to accept that pets are a huge part of the lives of homeless people too and, perhaps, be encouraged to help the situation instead of avoiding eye contact with that person sitting in a doorway on a rainy evening.
Pyometra in a dog, seen during surgery. The uterus is distended with pus. Image by Joel Mills [GFDL, CC-BY-SA-3.0 or CC-BY-SA-2.5-2.0-1.0], via Wikimedia CommonsLast week I removed one of the largest, most pus-filled uteri from a large breed dog that I have ever seen.
I’m a bit long in the tooth now, but I still found the whole procedure a bit scary given the size and vascularity of the uterus – and this made me reflect on the benefits of early neutering.
We routinely spay bitches in our practice from five months of age with minimal long-term complications, and it’s so much easier.
I am aware that recent research indicates early neutering may have some long-term implications in certain breeds, but the procedure is so much safer in young dogs, and anything that prevents them developing pyometra in later life has got to be an advantage.
I’ve not long come across a case of a middle-aged dog that had suddenly become unaccustomedly grumpy and started snapping at its poor owners.
This was uncharacteristic, as it had no previous history of behavioural problems. There were no other obvious clinical signs – perhaps it had become lazy of late, but there was nothing to put your finger on.
I recalled having attended a CPD event a while before when the speaker mentioned hypothyroidism leading to aggression. I thought this was worth a punt, and low and behold it had a very high thyroid-stimulating hormone level and very low thyroxine result. Our friend is now on thyroid supplementation and is much happier, although at the time of writing some two to three months into therapy, it was not completely better.
So, it may be worthwhile considering a blood profile when presented with signs of aggression in middle-aged dogs.
Everyone had heard rumours third year at veterinary school was the worst. On coming back to university after a long summer of extra-mural studies and relaxation, we were nervous. Two weeks in, things didn’t seem too bad and we were sceptical.
We were indifferently meandering through the bewildering world of Latin names and impossible-to-spell drugs, resigned to a fate of an increased workload and new subjects, but not overwhelmed just yet. It happened to different people at different times, but, seemingly out of nowhere, the third-year wall hit. And it hit hard.
Whether it was the hours of straining to make sense of indiscernible pinky-purple mess under the microscope, or trying to differentiate one parasite from the next by the subtlest of morphological changes, or even just trying to fathom the hideous amount of Latin that had forced itself into our lives, veterinary school suddenly got the better of most of us.
While drowning under the sheer amount of information to take in, the realisation we’re not even halfway there really seemed to set in this term, making it almost impossible for us to keep our heads above water.
A week of very little sleep, long hours studying and eight exams will mark the halfway point for my year group. The most disturbing part of this revelation is the feeling we’ve been at vet school for a long time (can anyone even remember freshers’ week?), and yet we still have that same length of time left to go.
Several of us have been questioning our aspirations of late – why did I want to be a vet? Why am I putting myself through this? Is it worth it? Is this as hard as it gets? These are just some of the whispers heard around vet school.
It’s often comforting in itself your classmates are feeling as fed up as you are, but you also need to find a way to combat your doubts and climb the wall, or punch right through it. Veterinary students are particularly susceptible to stress and mental health issues – we’ve all heard the statistics, which is why it’s vital to know how and where to access support should you need it.
The student-run welfare system at Glasgow’s veterinary school has boomed this year, with multiple welfare talks and the start up of many new clubs and societies aimed at stress relief, including relaxing yoga classes to help you reboot or a high-energy Muay Thai sessions to help you release all that pent-up stress. Following in the footsteps of Liverpool, Glasgow vet school is also currently developing a peer-support network to provide an ear for those students who need someone to turn to in times of need.
Of course, your own interests can distract you from the stress of vet school, and while it’s tempting to entirely prioritise your studies, it’s really important to ensure they don’t consume your entire life. For me personally, writing, editing and riding keep me afloat.
One lesson I’ve learned this term is you also need to keep on top of your own health. You may have a persisting issue that you keep putting off because you haven’t got time to see a doctor and have too much work to do. But it doesn’t pay off in the end. I allowed back muscle pain to get to the point of me being barely able to walk before shaking some sense into myself and seeing a physio. After a couple of sessions, I felt a million times better and regretted putting it off for so long. Just remember you need to look after your body to keep your mind on top form.
On the upside, by the time our “halfway ball” comes around in February, we’ll be over the hump, and just a little bit closer to graduation. Or in other words – a little bit closer to fulfilling our ambitions or dreams that many of us have had from a very young age. We just need to find a way to hold on to the light at the end of the tunnel, so we don’t run out of steam.
We have now started to use Polydioxanone (PDS) to stabilise symphyseal fractures in cats. We use 4 metric PDS passed under the mandible and around the canines in a figure of 8.
In uncomplicated fractures, we have found this to be really effective and the fracture will heal within four to six weeks. If, like me, you have ever had trouble removing the wire at this time (see video below for example of a traditional wiring method), this technique may well be for you – not to mention the cat will not need further anaesthesia.
Video: Avulsion fracture of the lower lip and the mandibular symphysis in a cat. Source, YouTube.
We recently saw a 10-year-old, West Highland white that had developed a middle ear infection and facial paralysis.
Following treatment and further investigation, it turned out the poor little chap had concurrent hypothyroidism. Several weeks later, I noticed the eye the same side as the ear infection had developed a mucopurulent discharge and mild keratitis.
On checking its Schirmer tear tests, this was markedly reduced for that eye, and borderline for the other. A bit of research indicated facial paralysis can affect both tear and saliva production.
The good news is the little chap is doing well with false tear preparations.
In our practice, the preferred way to induce vomiting after ingestion of poisons (most commonly raisins, chocolate and rat poison) is subcutaneous apomorphine.
If a strong acid or alkali has been ingested, this is contraindicated. This also seems to occur most commonly out of hours for some strange reason.
We give 30μg/kg SC and wait for the desired effect, which works very well and usually results in a peaceful night’s sleep for all concerned.
It’s that time of year again, when vet students become more competitive than ever and inter-school rivalry (friendly and, for the most part, light-hearted) culminates in the biggest sporting event in the Scottish vet school’s calendar.
The renowned “Dick Day” – the annual event where Glasgow’s vet students take on those from the Royal (Dick) School of Veterinary Studies (AKA Edinburgh) – was held in Glasgow on November 19.
After recovering from the AVS (Association of Veterinary Students) Sports Weekend only ten days previously (where the only part of the body that got much exercise was the liver), Glasgow was pumped and ready to fight harder than ever for victory.
Totalling nine matches, Dick Day hosted more sports than ever before – and we weren’t sure whether the new additions were going to put us at a disadvantage or add to our strength.
After a stressful morning on my part (having organised the riding competition), the hard work paid off and the Glasgow vet riding team were again victorious.
The other scores started coming in fast, and we were drawing with Edinburgh, having lost ultimate frisbee, lacrosse and hockey, yet triumphing in riding, netball and men’s football. Netball in particular was a huge success, with this year’s match being the first time the Glasgow vets have won in years.
Glasgow fought to victory in both the men’s and women’s rugby.
With another victory in women’s football, we only had to win one rugby match to secure the title – and after a tense couple of hours, Glasgow fought to victory and won both men’s and women’s rugby.
Having finished on a score of winning six out of the nine sports, Glasgow claimed the Dick Day cup for the first time in more than 10 years!
Every team had trained harder than ever and thoroughly deserved the success. Spirits were high even before the games began, and every Glasgow vet was thrilled with the result. All those involved in organising the day put in a mammoth effort, which made the victory so much more rewarding.
I think all the students that took part or supported their schools will agree that it’s great to have that sense of community and teamwork within veterinary, even when doing something entirely non-vet related.
It is generally accepted rabbit anaesthesia can be challenging, but we do a lot of rabbit neutering as part of our work for an animal charity and use a protocol that has proved very safe and effective.
We also use yellow gauge catheters placed into an ear vein for IV administration.
Combine these drugs in one syringe and inject subcutaneously 20 minutes before procedure.
Rabbit will become quiet and relaxed.
Ketamine 0.2ml/kg diluted with 1:10 saline (that is, 0.2ml ketamine in 2ml saline).
Give this slow IV to effect.
Most rabbits use half a syringe, but occasionally I have had to use the whole syringe. If it is not having an effect, flush the catheter, and mask with isoflurane if required.
Rabbit will react if it goes extravascular;
once induced, spray Intubeaze and intubate – listen to breath sounds; there is usually no cough.
Rabbit can usually be maintained on 2% isoflurane.
Slower to wake up, but eating.
Hypnovel must be discarded within 24 hours, so better to try to book in all rabbits on the same day.
