A Veterinary Journal by Claire Poole
Chapter 1
Page 5
Chapter 1
Sunday 4th January
Monday 5th January
Thursday 8th January
Thursday 14th January
Thursday 21st January
Monday 25th January
Tuesday 26th January
Thursday 14th January
After such an invigorating start to the year, the snow has turned to rain and high winds are sweeping the country, leaving considerable damage in their wake. At the weekend, an old beech tree blocked our road for several hours requiring much cutting, dragging and lifting before the way was cleared. A helpful workman chainsawed the branches into manageable logs, and, after much to-ing and fro-ing in the muddy field, our woodshed is now full to the rafters. The wood is better if left until next year, but we may be tempted before then.
Another product which matures with time is the contents of the farm muck heap. After the cattle are turned out in spring, the barn is cleared out and a steaming muck heap grows by its side. This has now degraded into excellent fertiliser, and is presently being spread on the field behind us. The smell has also matured, our sinuses have never been so clear. We are at pains to point out to clients that the odour emanates from outwith the surgery.
Driving to Clayfern for morning surgery, flocks of fieldfares and redwings flutter from bush to bush. They are winter visitors from Scandinavia, so this weather is presumably nicer for them than it would be at home. Our buzzard sits on his usual fence post; he is there most mornings. Today he waits for the car to pass before returning to his meal – a rabbit killed on the road. Buzzards are lazy birds and soon realise that it is easier to wait for road kills than to hunt for themselves. A client who is a farmer mentioned that he has even seen them following the plough, waiting for worms to be unearthed. An earthworm cannot be more than an appetiser to such a big bird.
The Ducks in the millpond
By Abbeygate Farm, the resident ducks and geese have forsaken the millpond and are dabbling in the middle of the flooded road. Round the next bend, a tractor trundles along bearing winter feed to stock. Rushing to work is often not possible due to such hazards. Luckily, I arrive just in time to meet an emergency case – 2 panic-stricken owners carrying an unhappy looking dog. Muffie, an elderly collie was very sick this morning, then tottered around wildly as if drunk. Clearly both Mr and Mrs Collins think that ‘THE END HAS COME’ and are deeply distressed. They have had Muffie since she was 6 weeks old - she is now 15. Muffie herself is also in a state - covered in saliva and badly imbalanced, falling repeatedly to one side. On closer examination, her eyes flicker rhythmically from side to side (a symptom known as nystagmus). These symptoms make a partial diagnosis easy. Something is affecting the balance centre in Muffie’s brain; as well as feeling imbalanced, Muffie will be feeling nauseous (just as we do when we feel seasick). This scenario is not uncommon in older dogs. Unfortunately, the brain is totally encased in bone and not easy to examine so we usually cannot tell what is affecting the balance centre – it could be infection, inflammation, tumour, traumatic damage or even vascular accident, better known as a stroke. In the absence of extra diagnostic signs such as fever or infected ear canals, it is impossible to tell.
Radiographs are seldom of any use diagnostically; more specialised imaging techniques such as CAT or MRI scans would be used in human cases. These techniques are just now becoming available in veterinary medicine, but there are very few centres offering this facility, the procedure is very expensive and in most cases surgery is not an option so most patients like Muffie are treated medically. All we can do is treat the symptoms with anti-inflammatory and anti-sickness drugs – and see what happens. Many do recover and it seems likely these incidents are similar to strokes. Some are left with a permanent head tilt which looks rather weird but seldom bothers the patient. I explain all this to the Collins and beg them to relax a little. Not only does poor Muffie feel literally sick as a dog and is unable to walk properly, but she is also picking up on her owners’ distress and is badly frightened. Although not totally out of the woods, Mr and Mrs Collins and Muffie eventually leave the surgery considerably happier than when they arrived.
Walking the dogs later in the day, the results of the gales are evident in the woods – trees uprooted like skittles, leaning on each other at crazy angles. In the wind, branches touching neighbouring trees emit bloodcurdling wails and shrieks. A heart-rending, low pitched creak, almost a groan, draws my attention to a strange sight. Two trees – a sycamore and a Scots pine – have grown together and their trunks are joined for several feet like woody Siamese twins. Sap from the damaged bark has seeped down their trunks. I feel quite sorry for them. What a shame one hadn’t blown over and freed them from their agonising existence.
Copyright Claire Poole 2005
