Great "Foaling" Expectations

Pregnant mares seem to be few and far between these days with the economy on a rocky road. With all of the doom and gloom, several fillies and a couple of colts have arrived in 2009.  One in particular was quite an event, so of course I had to vent!

I received a call last week with a new horse owner who had recently purchased a pregnant mare. The clients had been casually anxious in anticipation of the newborn's arrival and had contacted me several times in the past regarding what to do when the baby was born.   I assured them I would be available when they called, and so we waited, and waited, and waited some more.  Honestly, I waited long enough that I forgot.  Weeks went by until I received the call.  

"Good news! The baby was born yesterday," said the client.  "Our only concern is that she is not moving around a whole lot." After a brief discussion I made a few phone calls to other understanding clients and was on my way to the new little filly.

The client was right, the filly was not moving around if at all when I arrived.  (Not to worry for those of you who are getting worried at this point. It's all going to work out, trust me.) The filly was hanging in there, but mom was less than thrilled about allowing her new little one to nurse.  I was concerned that the baby had not received the all important colostrum (aka "liquid gold") that is necessary for happy and healthy fillies to live strong and prosper.  A SNAP IgG foal test confirmed that she had not.  The next step was to begin quiet negotiations with mom on the nursing angle, and then place a nasogastric tube into the filly in order to pass the much needed colostrum and IgG serum.  

As I set to work I noticed a small crowd of family members and neighbors gathering outside the stall door, and I thought I was nervous when I tried out for the musical, "South Pacific" in high school!  I placed the tube, transferred the fluids, and then, wait for it... YES, baby stood and nursed.  Okay, so I was pretty proud of myself.  With a big smile on my face I turned back to the crowd at the stall door and scanned for a response.  A few smiles, good... smiles are good, more smiles, and then... a scowl on a young woman's face.  A scowl? The client introduced me to her daughter, the actual owner of the mare and filly.  I introduced myself and attempted to say something, anything, that would decrease the frown on this woman's face.  I explained the work I had performed in order to care for her filly and explained that we would need to perform another IgG SNAP test to ensure that the baby had received an adequate level.

She continued to stare at me, finally uttering a few words she asked,

        "How will all of this affect her imprinting?

Wow...  There it is.  For all the talking with clients that I do, this question left me speechless... I took a deep breath and smiled, and smiled some more.  I had two very different versions of what I wanted to say, but I went with the better one.  I explained that unfortunately sometimes care needed to be given in order to preserve the health of the animal.  My hope to her was that the filly would not hold the nasogastric tube up the nose against me, especially the next time I see her. What I really wanted to say was that if it weren't for the tube, there would not be a next time.  

I just checked in with mom and baby, both are doing well.  The client's are happy and excited, and the "imprinting" is underway... Take care.

 

The Castrating Catastrophe!

So...Have you ever had one of those days?  The day that begins with, "Hey Doc, I have a few colts for you to castrate. Can you give me a deal?" Let's just say that this has been a huge learning experience, and for the record, don't ever negotiate in the middle of the road.  

Let me start at the beginning.

The other morning I was sitting at a red light when I turned my head to see a gentleman waving me to roll my window down.  "Hey Doc, how much to cut a colt?"  About that time the light turned green. The next light stopped us again.  "Hey Doc, how much to cut 3 colts?"  I jumped out of the truck and handed the fella my card. The light turned green and my phone rang.  

I agreed to a multiple horse discount and the deal was done.

A few days later I found my way to his place.  It was conveniently located on the Moon up a 6 mile switchback gravel road at a 45 degree grade.  My truck asked me several times why were we doing this?  As I pulled up three horses were anxiously tied to the hitch rail.   The gentleman explained that one had been handled some, good to know.  

The problem was that none of them were interested in being touched, must less castrated!  

I will "cut" to the chase, but needless to say, one castration went fine, one went okay, and one was a complete disaster, complete with a thorough stomping of me, and my equipment.  

My steel bucket will never be the same...

In the end I survived, and so far, so have the "three gelded amigos."  My body is still a little achy, but that too will pass, at some point...

The moral of the story is to never make deals in the middle of a busy intersection, and always ask more questions.

Life on the Road

The life of a veterinarian has been extensively illustrated in countless autobiographies, magazine articles, and interviews.  Each one sharing the personal and many times humorous aspects of what we do.  As a student I read them all, and more.  James Herriot in All Creatures Great and Small was the veterinarian to be with his wonderful adventures of barnyard antics.  

What many of these tales failed to mention is that the life of a mobile or ambulatory veterinarian is about life in a truck.  Don't misunderstand, I enjoy driving, well most days.  The summer drives up the Big Thompson canyon toward Estes Park, the scenic rolling hills of the Pawnee Grasslands are all beautiful, but sometimes the weather is less than desirable.  

The sun is not always shining.  The snowpacked and icy interstate in the middle of the night when your truck's lights only illuminate the next ten feet in front of you, and the white knuckles and the stress in your shoulder blades for fear that you may be the next vehicle off the road are all too often the reality.  Thank goodness for GPS when the daylight is gone and the address of the house is difficult to find.  

Okay, so maybe that is the reality for everyone on the roads these days.  Maybe I am spending too much time over analyzing as I drive, or even too much time talking to myself!  The other side of this is that I do it for a reason.  Yes, I need to make a living, but I could find other occupations, I could even find other veterinary opportunities that would allow me to work within a temperature controlled environment.  The reason I drive 40,000 miles a year is because I want to.  I enjoy what I do.  I enjoy the clients and the animals.  

The life of a large animal veterinarian is not exactly what I envisioned it would be when I read all those books and articles. It's even better...