Last night I stayed up with Lilian. She is not well.
She couldn’t settle, and had thrown up earlier in the day. Later on, as I made dinner, she ate grass and threw up some more. She also refused to eat her bowl of chicken and rice.
This morning, I took her to a vet I have no relationship with. The reason being, my usual vet has had a baby and decided to work only Tuesdays and Fridays thereafter. That isn’t realistic for patients who have dogs that are acutely ill, and most of us want to have professionals we can count on and develop relationships with – especially when it comes to health.
Lilian was examined by the owner of this veterinarian facility today. He has the women at the front desk push vaccines till it’s sickening, and yearly vaccines are outdated protocols. They are un-neccessary according to updated standards and a detriment to a dog’s health.
I have outgrown this vet office and to see a vet and his staff stay cemented in outdated practices for the almighty dollar has become a burden to my own conscience. How can I support a practice with such values? I’ve had a hard time finding a veterinarian since moving to this area. South Florida is a tough area to begin with if you’re looking for courtesy and customer service; and veterianrians price their services at a higher rate than even Southern California, though the cost of living here is supposedly lower than there. That’s why I put my house up for sale…a year ago…I want out of South Florida! This market is such a twit of a market.
Back to Lilian. The vet she saw today was rough-handed and abrupt. Instead of stroking my girl, he slapped her. Why do some people think big dogs like that slap-petting sort of thing? They don’t. Big dogs like to be stroked as much as little dogs and cats. Lilian expressed her own anal glands because of this vet’s poor bedside manner.
I am not satisfied he did anything for her besides giving her sub-q fluids. Those are always helpful and what I wanted for her in particular. A bag of fluids is not worth $108, though, even in today’s market. We could have bought a barrel of oil for that, though not as helpful in this situation.
After all that, this evening, Lilian still refused food, a lovely chicken breast I slow cooked for her.
She wanted no part of it, though she normally enjoys dining. Some of the Fort Doberdale Squirrel Posse eat their food in one big slurp; Lilian, however, dines. Besides refusing to dine this evening, she is resting better than last night and is drinking water.
I will continue to monitor her, and look for yet another vet. This is the THIRD woman vet whose status as a mother has dramatically changed her status as a vet. The first two, from the same practice, quit entirely. I am waiting for this to happen to number three, though she claims it won’t. To each her own, but in a field where there are so few spots in universities that train for this profession, I find this a darn shame. All that education and experience is now poof! And no one equivalent is there to replace those who’ve poofed.
God bless Lilian.
