Wednesday, July 17, 2013

Don't You Just Hate Those Times When...

... you call three vets, schedule appointments with all of them and then forget who you called, when you scheduled them for, or what their names are?

Yesterday was spent out with Doc (first time in awhile!), and our first client sure was interesting. We headed out on the road for the half hour trip to a new client's house. Ms. S. (the vet tech) called ahead to let them know we were coming, reaching a voicemail that did not contain the client's name and seemed to be for a business. Using 411 and a 4G hotspot, we got a home number and called again, to no avail. With a shrug, we continued on our way, hoping that someone would be there to greet us. We pulled up to a decent-sized farm with some tractor trailers parked in the yard, as well as a pretty bay gelding grazing freely on the lawn. Pulling up to the barn, a pirate greeted us.

Well not really a pirate but...his ensemble was a torn shirt and pants, red bandana covering his hair, and a bandage across one eye. A ruddy complexion, jowls and a 10 o'clock shadow of white bristle completed the look. Doc rolled down a window and inquired if he was the owner of the horse we were looking for. Indeed, he seemed to be. He also seemed very confused. We had come with x-ray equipment in tow, planning on taking a look at a hoof which had abscessed, healed and was still bothering the horse. The owner explained that both of Doc's competing vets in the area, Dr. O (who used to work for Doc) and Dr. T, had been out to see the horse. Dr. T had taken x-rays last week. Both vets had said that nothing was wrong with the horse, and he simply needed shoes.

Doc took this in with good humor and simply asked if he still wished for us to take a look at the horse. The pirate shrugged and said "I could always use a third opinion." We parked, and got out. The grazing bay was our patient, and as his owner pulled him off the grass and towards the barn, it was clear that this horse was really not okay. He staggered in, appearing to be lame on not just one foot, but both front feet.

After an examination of the foot with the  pastabscess turned up little results besides a soft sole, Doc checked out the other hoof and found white line disease, a fungal infection that results in separation of the hoof wall. The horse also had a very soft sole on this hoof, yielding to thumb pressure. The owner's insight of trail boots upon turnout had saved him from more bruising. Taking a look at the x-rays confirmed some inflammation and no serious further problems. Our pirate friend was jubilant that he had not listened to the first two vets and had instead listened to his farrier, who had cautioned him against shoes. Had he shoed the horse, serious hoof problems could have ensued.

The bay was truly his baby. This was his favorite horse of all time, and he diligently copied down directions, medications and names, took cards and magnets, and set up an appointment for next week. Throughout the appointment, he asked us multiple times the name of the practice and Doc's name, seeming to forget them once the names left his ear drums.

As we drove away, I think we were all wondering if he would be pursuing a fourth opinion; however, I think he may have been out of vets. Perhaps he will become a regular client... then again, more likely, he will return to his original vet, and the check-up appointment will be canceled.

If nothing else, it certainly made the day interesting.

~Melissa

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