“If having a soul means being able to feel love and loyalty and gratitude, then animals are better off than a lot of humans.” ― James HerriotWe had puppies on Christmas Eve, six of them. And by 2:00 a.m. on Christmas Day, we were en route to the emergency vet so that we could get Seven out.
By the time the puppies started to arrive on the afternoon of Christmas Eve, I had already been up for virtually forty-eight hours on puppy watch, eating junk food and staring blankly at a puppy cam. Fouji, the mother of litter, had a difficult time delivering the first six puppies and there were long delays in between many of them.
For those of you who have never bred a litter, it is not for the feint of heart. Aside from all of general areas of real concern (protecting the health and temperament of your breed, finding good homes, getting the necessary health certifications, showing the parents, maintaining good health, diet and fitness, staying up to date on the sharks in your gene pool, checking references for potential buyers, writing and re-writing your puppy contracts to protect the puppies, importing dogs to maintain genetic diversity, etc., etc., etc.), delivering puppies has inherent risk, . . . and it’s messy.
When I say messy, I mean really messy. I am going to spare you the gory details of mucus plugs and blood and that dark green placental juice that looks like Odawalla SuperFood and the glossy, livery placentas themselves. The only thing grosser than placentas is the fact that the mother dog likes to gobble them up like they are dessert topping. I will not even begin to describe what it is like if she vomits the previously consumed placentas. You definitely do not want to know what happens when you wash that bedding and miss three of those regurgitated placentas, or even worse, the heinous green and brown smear marks they leave in your dryer if they manage to make it undetected that far. (I am not saying that this did happen to me or that this did not happen to me. But if any of you have placental smears in your dryer, feel free to ask me the best way to remove them. There is a reason that my dogs have their own, separate washer/dryer set.)
Now that I have enchanted you with the beauty of the miracle of birth, I am going to leave the humor behind us for a moment and turn to something a lot more serious, and that is the relationship between vets and their clients. There is a tension between many (not all) vets and their dog breeder clients. I think part of that tension has merit. Dog breeders tend to be opinionated about husbandry, including vaccinations, medications and feeding. Dog breeders in general do not spay and neuter animals unless there is a reason to do so. But there are misconceptions on the part of some vets, too. Dog breeders are often perceived as mercenaries and glorified puppy mills who place financial considerations over the welfare of their animals.
I do my part. I know that it is important for me to have a relationship with a veterinarian that is mutually respectful and beneficial. My dogs all receive routine annual wellness exams with heartworm checks. My vaccinations and tags are all in compliance with the law, and I do not mind even a little bit paying for an office exam at least once a year for each of my beloved Sloughis. I work with an excellent general practice veterinarian (Dr. Kurt Klepitsch of Gateway Veterinary Clinic) who knows me and knows my dogs and who provides outstanding care to all of us. I also work with Dr. Patricia Meiser of Animal Care and Reproductive Services (veterinary theriogenologist extraordinaire) for all of my canine reproductive care.
By 1:00 a.m. on Christmas Day, despite multiple doses of oxytocin, we were 3 hours and twenty minutes since Six was born without Seven making her way into the world, which necessitated me calling Dr. Meiser in the middle of the night on a holiday for much needed advice. This story might not have a happy ending were it not for her incredible generosity.
Dr. Meiser’s office is about 90 minutes from me, or I likely would have taken Fouji there. Instead, in 4 degree weather, we went to the closest emergency vet. The ER vet disagreed with Dr. Meiser’s recommendation for a caesarean section and wanted to try additional oxytocin. I asked her what she would do if it were her dog, and she replied, “Well, I am not a breeder. I don’t make those decisions based on finances.”
If I am making decisions on my Sloughis based on financial considerations, I am either the worst businesswoman on the planet, or I lack the most rudimentary math skills to the extent that I might be declared legally disabled. Rest assured, my Sloughi habit is doing nothing more than fueling other businesses, including the ER vet, I might add.
Let me describe my dilemma. At this point, it was nearly 3:00 a.m. on Christmas morning. No puppy had presented since 9:39 the night before. Fouji was discharging quite a bit of placental fluid, which could have been from the puppies already born. However, even though Seven’s heart rate was showing no sign of distress when I arrived there around 2:00 a.m., there was no way to tell the point at which the puppy could separate from her placenta and die in the womb if not delivered.
I decided to follow the ER doctor’s very strong recommendation and try more oxytocin. She promised to prep the surgery room to be ready to go at the moment I told her. By 5:30 a.m. I wanted surgery and told the nurse. And then I waited. And waited. And waited. At one point, I went down the hallway and into reception and I could not find anyone in the deserted clinic.
I am not that good at waiting. I called the clinic from my cell phone and said, “I am getting very concerned that this delay is going to cause this puppy to die in utero. When are we starting the surgery?” At 7:00 a.m., the doctor showed up and explained that a dog had died in the back and she had had to call the owner to let them know.
I am very sympathetic that someone lost their dog on Christmas, but that dog was already dead. There was nothing more she could do for that dog or that owner. However, her delay might have resulted in my puppy dying too.
I told her, “Okay, but I am worried that this puppy is going to die because of this long delay.” She said, “Yes, it’s very possible.” She suggested that I leave the six puppies I had with me there in their care and that my friend and I go out for breakfast during surgery. We had a small scuffle about that. Dr. Meiser has let me wait in the hallway during a c-section before so that I could observe the surgery and see the puppy. The ER doctor claimed that her malpractice insurance would not allow it.
As an attorney, it is impossible for me to imagine a malpractice policy that states that no owners can be in hallways during surgery. However, I was not about to risk losing Seven by getting into a pissing contest with a veterinarian who had already demonstrated her priorities. And I would never offend someone before putting my dog’s life in her hands.
She then left the room again to prep the room for surgery, which had apparently not been done hours previously as promised.
The receptionist came in and demanded an $800 credit card deposit before they would begin. (Is it too catty for me to ask who is the mercenary now?)
It wasn’t until Fouji came into recovery that the ER doctor finally figured out that I was not one of Those breeders. She mentioned that the scar tissue left behind might reduce her future fertility. I replied, “It doesn’t matter. She will not be bred again. This is her last litter.”
She said, “You paid to bring this dog all the way from Morocco for a single litter?”
Yep.
I have been involved in Sloughis since 1995 and with Afghan hounds before that. At no time has any bitch under my care been accidentally bred. And in the time I have owned Sloughis, my litter this month is my fourth. The rewards that I reap are not pecuniary in nature, but there is no way for some people to understand that concept. $1700 later, and I am still grateful that she saved Seven and did not harm Fouji in the process.
I am a lawyer. Being a lawyer is a service industry, just like being a plumber or an electrician, or a veterinarian. I understand that clients can be difficult, and I understand that there are some clients that are just not likable. I do not understand naked hostility based on a stereotype and I do not understand that the same person who adopts that position would endanger the life of a canine patient (in this case, Seven), to talk on the phone with an owner whose dog had already died.
The good news is that Seven was delivered healthy, happy and strong. And Fouji is recovering well and all the puppies are thriving. So, today, I turn and look at my puppy cam and I see that Fouji has just finished her afternoon bowl of organic kefir and honey and has settled down to her shiny, plump puppies, and I am grateful to the highest degree to Dr. Meiser, who is worth her weight in platinum. I will not risk my dogs again at that particular ER clinic, but I am grateful for Fouji’s health and Seven’s.
All’s well that ends well.
Now that I have enchanted you with the beauty of the miracle of birth, I am going to leave the humor behind us for a moment and turn to something a lot more serious, and that is the relationship between vets and their clients. There is a tension between many (not all) vets and their dog breeder clients. I think part of that tension has merit. Dog breeders tend to be opinionated about husbandry, including vaccinations, medications and feeding. Dog breeders in general do not spay and neuter animals unless there is a reason to do so. But there are misconceptions on the part of some vets, too. Dog breeders are often perceived as mercenaries and glorified puppy mills who place financial considerations over the welfare of their animals.
I do my part. I know that it is important for me to have a relationship with a veterinarian that is mutually respectful and beneficial. My dogs all receive routine annual wellness exams with heartworm checks. My vaccinations and tags are all in compliance with the law, and I do not mind even a little bit paying for an office exam at least once a year for each of my beloved Sloughis. I work with an excellent general practice veterinarian (Dr. Kurt Klepitsch of Gateway Veterinary Clinic) who knows me and knows my dogs and who provides outstanding care to all of us. I also work with Dr. Patricia Meiser of Animal Care and Reproductive Services (veterinary theriogenologist extraordinaire) for all of my canine reproductive care.
By 1:00 a.m. on Christmas Day, despite multiple doses of oxytocin, we were 3 hours and twenty minutes since Six was born without Seven making her way into the world, which necessitated me calling Dr. Meiser in the middle of the night on a holiday for much needed advice. This story might not have a happy ending were it not for her incredible generosity.
Dr. Meiser’s office is about 90 minutes from me, or I likely would have taken Fouji there. Instead, in 4 degree weather, we went to the closest emergency vet. The ER vet disagreed with Dr. Meiser’s recommendation for a caesarean section and wanted to try additional oxytocin. I asked her what she would do if it were her dog, and she replied, “Well, I am not a breeder. I don’t make those decisions based on finances.”
If I am making decisions on my Sloughis based on financial considerations, I am either the worst businesswoman on the planet, or I lack the most rudimentary math skills to the extent that I might be declared legally disabled. Rest assured, my Sloughi habit is doing nothing more than fueling other businesses, including the ER vet, I might add.
Let me describe my dilemma. At this point, it was nearly 3:00 a.m. on Christmas morning. No puppy had presented since 9:39 the night before. Fouji was discharging quite a bit of placental fluid, which could have been from the puppies already born. However, even though Seven’s heart rate was showing no sign of distress when I arrived there around 2:00 a.m., there was no way to tell the point at which the puppy could separate from her placenta and die in the womb if not delivered.
I decided to follow the ER doctor’s very strong recommendation and try more oxytocin. She promised to prep the surgery room to be ready to go at the moment I told her. By 5:30 a.m. I wanted surgery and told the nurse. And then I waited. And waited. And waited. At one point, I went down the hallway and into reception and I could not find anyone in the deserted clinic.
I am not that good at waiting. I called the clinic from my cell phone and said, “I am getting very concerned that this delay is going to cause this puppy to die in utero. When are we starting the surgery?” At 7:00 a.m., the doctor showed up and explained that a dog had died in the back and she had had to call the owner to let them know.
I am very sympathetic that someone lost their dog on Christmas, but that dog was already dead. There was nothing more she could do for that dog or that owner. However, her delay might have resulted in my puppy dying too.
I told her, “Okay, but I am worried that this puppy is going to die because of this long delay.” She said, “Yes, it’s very possible.” She suggested that I leave the six puppies I had with me there in their care and that my friend and I go out for breakfast during surgery. We had a small scuffle about that. Dr. Meiser has let me wait in the hallway during a c-section before so that I could observe the surgery and see the puppy. The ER doctor claimed that her malpractice insurance would not allow it.
As an attorney, it is impossible for me to imagine a malpractice policy that states that no owners can be in hallways during surgery. 
However, I was not about to risk losing Seven by getting into a pissing contest with a veterinarian who had already demonstrated her priorities. And I would never offend someone before putting my dog’s life in her hands.
She then left the room again to prep the room for surgery, which had apparently not been done hours previously as promised.
The receptionist came in and demanded an $800 credit card deposit before they would begin. (Is it too catty for me to ask who is the mercenary now?)
It wasn’t until Fouji came into recovery that the ER doctor finally figured out that I was not one of Those breeders. She mentioned that the scar tissue left behind might reduce her future fertility. I replied, “It doesn’t matter. She will not be bred again. This is her last litter.”
She said, “You paid to bring this dog all the way from Morocco for a single litter?”
Yep.
I have been involved in Sloughis since 1995 and with Afghan hounds before that. At no time has any bitch under my care been accidentally bred. And in the time I have owned Sloughis, my litter this month is my fourth. The rewards that I reap are not pecuniary in nature, but there is no way for some people to understand that concept. $1700 later, and I am still grateful that she saved Seven and did not harm Fouji in the process.
I am a lawyer. Being a lawyer is a service industry, just like being a plumber or an electrician, or a veterinarian. I understand that clients can be difficult, and I understand that there are some clients that are just not likable. I do not understand naked hostility based on a stereotype and I do not understand that the same person who adopts that position would endanger the life of a canine patient (in this case, Seven), to talk on the phone with an owner whose dog had already died.
The good news is that Seven was delivered healthy, happy and strong. And Fouji is recovering well and all the puppies are thriving. So, today, I turn and look at my puppy cam and I see that Fouji has just finished her afternoon bowl of organic kefir and honey and has settled down to her shiny, plump puppies, and I am grateful to the highest degree to Dr. Meiser, who is worth her weight in platinum. I will not risk my dogs again at that particular ER clinic, but I am grateful for Fouji’s health and Seven’s.
All’s well that ends well.
