Interview: The Pink Diamond Club

I was fortunate enough to meet with Colleen Qvist and we had a delightful chat. Below is the link to her impressions.

http://www.linkedin.com/pulse/my-daughter-get-degree-colleen-qvist?trk=hp-feed-article-title-publish

Physically Challenged Dogs

Printed All About Dogs Nov/Dec 2014 

When is a dog considered physically challenged? I would include amputees, deaf dogs, blind dogs, dogs that have spinal injury or disease and their hindquarters are compromised, even tetraparetic individuals. As humans, supposedly having “dominion” over our canine friends, when should we make a decision to allow their lives to continue? That, of course, is very personal but I would like to give my views based on 14 years of small animal private veterinary practice, and a further 6 years as a physical rehabilitation veterinarian. 

Dogs do not have the psychological issues associated with disability, which humans have. Running around on three legs does not make them less of a dog in their minds. I would like to make the point that many disabled dogs live full and happy lives.

All dogs have a keen sense of smell. The olfactory sense of a blind dog is even more-developed. This, along with an acute sense of hearing, allows him to negotiate his surroundings. Provided there are not too many changes in the environment, and hazards such as swimming pools are appropriately barricaded, blind dogs can continue happily for years. There are even photographs of blind dogs having ‘guide’ dogs! These are other dogs that have taken on a role of being the blind dog’s eyes. Often these companions are inseparable. 
Deaf dogs should also not be discriminated against. Dalmatians have a genetic line which predisposes some to deafness. Their sight is unaffected. I have watched such a dog, and a teenage boy, build such a strong bond that they outdid all the other people and dogs in their training class. I am sure they had many pleasurable years together. 

Single limb amputees, whether front or back, are able to run and play with the same gusto as a four-legged dog. Consideration for the remaining limb is important but can be managed. I met Hanna, a Labrador x Bull Terrier, when she was two years old. She was hit by a car and had to have one of her front limbs amputated at 7 months of age. Hanna has been on hydrotherapy program since we met, in order to maintain the strength and mobility of the remaining front limb. Hanna’s guardian was hoping for 5 years but next year March she will be 10! Earlier this year we invested in a neoprene support for her wrist as she has developed arthritis in this joint. She lives on a smallholding with numerous other dogs and runs around like a mad thing! She also attends a private training session once a week where the focus is on mental stimulation as opposed intensive physical training.

Since I have been involved in physical rehabilitation of our canine companions, I have seen many dogs with compromised hindquarters. These dogs are unable to walk with their back legs and often drag them.

 Being disabled in this manner does not stop these dogs at all! Mobility carts are becoming more readily available and are a necessity if such a dog is permanently paralysed. When in the cart, these dogs cannot be left unsupervised as the cart may catch on an obstacle or even tip over in the dog’s excitement to chase someone. However, these individuals never consider that their so-called disability requires them to stop participating in life. They can and do catch a ball, and also chase the visitors at the gate. Recently, Pug Rescue SA (PRSA) received a 7 month old Pug with a spinal condition which is inoperable, leaving Pug-Lee paralysed in his back legs. PRSA is a pro-life shelter that has made the decision to give Pug-Lee an opportunity to live life. His mobility cart is on order. He is a part of daily life in the centre and is moved around from office to outdoors, based on activities. He has a specific set of exercises which he must complete daily. He also enjoys a daily massage and stretching session. He is interactive, eats well and is already much-loved.

In conclusion, living with a disabled pet has its challenges. The largest of which is adapting the dog’s environment to ensure it is a safe playground. Cognisance of compensatory patterns of movement is essential, and necessary adjustments must be made. Awareness is the key but these pets live a fulfilling life and it is most rewarding for their human family, too.

Franki Hoffmann

When dealing with the disabled among us we often confront a number of issues that are surprisingly uncomfortable. Even more so when faced with disability in our animal companions. True to the gift that they are to their human families, they bring us a deeper understanding and acceptance of ourselves.

Franki ‘Blue Eyes’ Hoffmann was a most unusual Ragdoll cat.

He started seizuring at nine weeks of age. I met him when he was 16 weeks old with a request from his family to try acupuncture to control his fits, or at least lessen their intensity.

Blood tests, MRI scans and other diagnostic tests had yielded no positive diagnosis and so Franki was labelled an epileptic.

Franki was a special cat, not entirely true to the Ragdoll nature but quite accepting of his lot. He initially visited once a week for needles. He was also taking anti-epileptic medication. The fits reduced in frequency and intensity.

When Franki reached nine months of age, his guardian, Suzanne, asked me if we could swim him. She felt he was really slow (he was) and that his hind quarters were weak (they were). At this stage the underwater treadmill was not yet installed.

I agreed and then the questions began: how would I swim a cat? What was the best way to introduce him to the pool? Was he brain-damaged? Could he process being placed in the water? And, could I elicit the desired swimming response? – which is usually instinctive?

I started with a buoyancy aide (or life-jacket). Franki refused to move – both on the ground and in the water. I was afraid to drown him. We moved to a harness. Still Franki refused to move. I asked Suzanne to place the harness on him at home so he could become accustomed to it. I wanted a ‘handle’ in the pool!

Franki sat in one place at home for two hours! To call him stubborn would be a gross understatement!

Eventually I relented, and we (Franki and I) entered the water without any attachments. He refused to swim. After eight weeks of gentle encouragements and begging, I removed my hand, which was supporting Franki under his belly. He started to move his legs! Break through!!

From that moment on, we progressed. Franki swam; we balanced him on a boogie board in the pool; and walked up ramps. The treadmill was out of the question but he did balance exercises on the Pilates ball – until he punctured it.

Franki was a regular patient for almost four years. He taught me patience and tolerance; he forced me to find new ways to achieve the goals I wanted. I would say that Franki was mentally disabled, but he had his routine, and he was a happy cat. 

Franki's Video

What did I learn? Disabled pets cannot be managed by everyone, but we should give them the benefit of the doubt and try to find a way to give them a quality life. I am blessed to have known and worked with Franki. He showed me there are paths, even if mainstream society ‘says’ there are not. We have a choice – always.

Space – Kyle Bond

In a previous blog I mentioned ‘space’, particularly with regard to creating and holding space. What do I mean?

Over the last three weeks I met, and have treated, a 6 year old Dachshund called Kyle. He presented with severe back pain (especially at the thoracolumbar junction) and muscle spasm. If someone walked past him and was too close, he screamed. Palpation and treatment were challenging. Add to this a hind limb weakness and ataxia (wobbliness) and I was dealing with a very miserable dog, and an extremely concerned guardian.

Kyle’s mom, Anthea, had been to the local veterinarians. They had correctly diagnosed the problem and advised surgical intervention. Kyle had a ‘slipped’ disc (prolapsed) which was putting pressure on the spine, creating the severe pain and hindquarter compromise. Anthea wanted to explore other avenues before putting Kyle through surgery. The veterinary practice referred them to me.

After examining Kyle I agreed with the diagnosis and so our conversations began. Anthea was looking for an option that allowed Kyle’s body to heal itself, and we would offer support. Anthea absolutely believed in the power of intention. Kyle’s medication consisted of analgesics and muscle relaxants. Fortunately the drugs chosen had not interfered with the healing process.

I offered acupuncture, homeopathic remedies and energy healing. I explained the risks involved with surgery, as well as the risks present if we choose to treat ‘conservatively’. Anthea chose the latter.

Acupuncture was painful for Kyle. I used homeopathic remedies which reduce pain and inflammation, and others which aid in the healing of damaged nervous tissue. I applied traction. We spoke a lot about intention and meditation. By the third visit (10 days after the first) Kyle was still sore and was struggling to stand. He was worse! Anthea was in tears and justifiably distraught. My veterinary training was screaming at me to send him to surgery. It was a Friday. We decided to hold out for the weekend and our healing efforts intensified.

On Monday he was better!!! We were smiling through our tears.

What does this story have to do with space? Firstly, I created a safe place in which healing could occur. I focus much energy on creating this space. If a person or patient does not feel safe, healing cannot occur.

Secondly, Anthea and I held that space. Through intention and meditation the safe space was maintained for Kyle.

Thirdly, we allowed Kyle to heal. Yes, we intervened with medicines and practices but all of them were chosen specifically because they enhanced and supported the body’s natural repair mechanisms. In this safe space we allowed healing.

We all have the ability to focus to create and hold a space. I do it for my patients. Guardians enhance that. My team add their value and intention, as well as their abilities. We all help each other to maintain the space to facilitate healing. When we do that we allow the body to access the knowledge inherent in its cells and DNA. What is the result? A Miracle!

Sahara, The Abyssinian

The bonds that develop between animal companions and their human families are not easy to define. Each relationship has its own unique dynamic, and yet, a common thread has become apparent to me. Just as I believe each person in our life is drawn to us for a reason, I firmly believe we share our homes with our animal companions in a similar way. They come to teach, to guide, to illuminate and inspire us in ways we cannot begin to imagine until we have experienced them.

Sahara was an Abyssinian cat that lived with me for a while. She was 12 weeks old when I collected her, by car, from a breeder in Durban North. I had taken 6 months to make the decision to get another cat after the very traumatic death of my beloved Pumpkin (that is another story!).

The breeder, like so many do, kept her cats indoors and Sahara had never been exposed to the world outside. So, when we finally arrived home, after the lengthy car trip, and my husband opened all the car doors, and then the door to the carry cage, I expected the worst. Her whole experience to that point of time must have been extremely stressful. As far as I was aware, Sahara had never been outside, let alone in a long car trip. I did not know what to expect when she was faced with my dogs or the limitless freedom of the ‘great outdoors’.

To my astonishment, Sahara did not bolt, or hide, cowering under the vehicle. In fact she acted as if she had been to our property before. She walked around the plot to very specific spots, inspecting and checking things out. And then she marched right into the house. There are a number of buildings on our Benoni smallholding, any one of which could have been chosen, but she just ‘knew’ where she would be living with us.

And so, our relationship began... Only someone who has been gifted with the lavish, demonstrative affection of a cat will understand what it is to be claimed as a cat’s special person. I was Sahara’s special person. The way she quickly settled in (and took over) was more than enough to convince me that Pumpkin had returned to me, in Sahara’s form.

When Sahara (also known as ‘Cat’) was three years old, my husband and I went to Europe for two weeks. In our absence, Sahara strayed from home. One morning, our neighbour saw her lying on our pavement. When he noticed that she was still there that afternoon, he called our son who rushed her to the vet.

Sahara had been struck by a car in the road outside our house, and, in spite of being paralysed in her hind legs with a broken back and having one dislocated elbow, she managed to drag herself to the side of the road and onto our pavement. The tenacity, hope and trust that she showed in that single act almost broke my heart. She was gravely injured, and yet still, somehow, made her way home where she knew she had always been safe.

Nine long days after the accident, I came home to hear the devastating news. I immediately took Sahara to my colleagues at Onderstepoort Veterinary Academic Hospital where she underwent a CT scan. Her third lumbar vertebra was fractured and there was a chip of bone in her spinal cord. It was inoperable. The advice from the specialist surgeon was to take Sahara home and see what would happen. Cats are known for their amazing recuperative powers, and he suggested we give her four weeks, and then try anything and everything we could to help her heal. I did exactly as the surgeon suggested, and so another stage in my personal and professional journey began.

I had recently started my animal rehabilitation and pain management practice, and I passionately applied everything I had learned in my new practice to treating my beloved Sahara. I used acupuncture, massage, photodynamic (light) therapy and performed many range-of-motion exercises. I added Crystal therapy and Reiki and even asked my Wiccan friends to cast healing spells.

After three days of being treated at home, my precious Cat stumbled, unaided, through the cat flap to do her business.

Sahara improved daily. After six short weeks she caught (and promptly consumed) her first pigeon. She walked with a strange gait but was mobile, happily interactive, and appeared completely pain free.

When I took Sahara back to Onderstepoort to show her to the surgeon and radiologist they were amazed. In fact, the radiologist often includes Sahara’s CT scan in his presentations to this day.

Three months later, Sahara disappeared again. I searched for her and called for her for eight heartsore days. It was so unlike her to wander when I was home. I printed flyers, visited all the local vets and the SPCA – but to no avail.

Then, on day eight, I found her decomposing body under a tree, outside my Reiki/Healing room. Sahara lay peacefully, without any sign of external trauma. It is my belief she may have suffered an embolism which is a fairly common complication after the type of trauma she had suffered. It is also my belief, that it was her time to go.

What did Sahara teach me? She gave me the confidence to use my newfound skills, and reinforced my belief in the therapies I had adopted in preference over mainstream veterinary services. Her gift to me? You can do it, these therapies can make a significant difference, and never discount anything – use whatever is available, provided you do no harm.

Transitions

Life is a cycle. We are born, we live, we die. The earth revolves around a cycle: spring, summer, autumn and winter. The cycle continues despite our best efforts to remain in one part of the cycle.

Our lives can be broken down into smaller cycles. We go through phases of conception, where new ideas are born and explored. Then we are energized into action and these plans become real. This is often a frenetic, exciting time as we watch our creation grow. If we are fortunate, this plan becomes a creature in its own right and may branch off with its own creations, or it may move along at a comfortable pace. Once this phase is reached we should reap the fruits of our labour. Sit back and enjoy the creation. With time, this creation will no longer serve us - the world changes, and so do we. We should embrace this end and peacefully allow this phase to move along and transition into death or winter. New thoughts and ideas will be bubbling just beneath the surface, waiting for expression. Allow it.

Too often we want to hold onto a 'good' thing when it has served its purpose. We should, rather, gracefully let it go.

So it is with physical death. As humans, we need to find some belief regarding what happens after death. This will bring us comfort when the time comes for death. I attended a funeral of a good friend. The pastor was specifically speaking to the children (my friend had three young children) when he said that when a person dies, it is as though they are in the room next door. We cannot see them, nor hear them but our loved ones are present. I hold on to this thought. My loved ones (human and animal companions) are not dead. They have merely transitioned into another plane and have begun a new cycle. When my mind removes the restriction of a physical form, I realise that they are, indeed, right next to me. If I focus on what I remember of their essence, I can feel them. I surrender into this space and once again share with my beloveds. This affords me great comfort, and I know peace.

Doggie Kelly – A Love Story

Not all love stories are obvious. Nor do they all follow the same script. Some, even, have endings that we can’t fully appreciate or understand, but they touch us. Some even give us a glimpse of a picture bigger than we dared imagine.

Doggie came into Siobhan’s already full life, starving and feral.  After many months of feeding him every day, in the veldt, she was able to coax him into her car with food. Once he was living with her at home, in a space of unconditional love and unstinting devotion, Doggie and Siobhan became the soul mates they were destined to be, and he never disappointed her.

Doggie’s physical condition was such that he needed a number of operations to his knees.  And from these surgeries Doggie developed osteoarthritis. Every week, for three years Siobhan brought Doggie to my Hydro for light therapy, stretches and a swim. During that time the extent of their mutual love and devotion became more than apparent to me.

Sadly, in spite of their hard work, nutritional supplementation and therapeutic vigilance, Doggie’s condition worsened and the osteoarthritis spread to his hips and elbows. Undaunted by the cost, both financially and emotionally, Siobhan took Doggie for stem cell therapy. The results of the treatment were disappointing. Soon, Doggie was reduced to taking only 3 steps before having to lie down.

It seems like yesterday when we said good bye to Doggie. Again, he did not disappoint Siobhan. In spite of the high emotion, he understood, and he left us calmly and peacefully with love and dignity.

Sometimes, the greatest love we can show our dearest companions is the gift of freedom from pain and suffering. Our deepest instinct is to hang on to life, no matter what the cost. We are afraid of losing our loved ones, and of being left behind without them. It takes great courage and personal sacrifice to let go. Veterinarians are the only professionals who have the right and duty to kill their patients. Having said that, I hold it as a precious privilege and honour to be chosen to help a sick, old or pain ridden patient across the threshold into what lies beyond.

As much as Siobhan saved Doggie, Doggie saved Siobhan with his unquestioning loyalty and total commitment to her.  This is my tribute to a devoted lady and her very brave companion. I am blessed to have been part of their journey.

Sometimes... we catch a glimpse of a departed loved one in the eyes, or hands or smile of a stranger. Siobhan recognised a dear friend in a starved, fearful, feral dog she noticed on the side of the road one day as she was driving to work. I wholeheartedly believe that death is not an ending, but rather a beginning, and I wonder if Siobhan and Doggie will find each other again, if not in this life, but in the next.