Dear Dr. Dog: I like the idea of veterinarians making house calls. What kinds of services do mobile vets provide?
Faith, a sixteen-year-old Border Collie mix, spends most of her time these days lying comfortably on her plush bed. She’s not as nimble and active as she was in her younger days, but still loves watching the squirrels outside on the deck and devouring the home-made meals that her dads, Joe and Scott, make for her. The black mask around Faith’s eyes has faded to gray, but those soulful eyes reveal a depth and intelligence in perfect counterpoint to her carefree doggie smile.
I know that Joe has left the door open for me, so I let myself in, a stethoscope around my neck and my old-fashioned doctor’s bag in tow. Joe quickly ends his cell phone conversation and greets me with a ready smile and expressive eyes, much like his dog’s. Faith watches me as I approach her. I have been treating Faith for a year-and-a-half with acupuncture and other methods, making house calls every two weeks.
I ask Joe how Faith has been feeling. “She’s getting weaker in her back legs and having accidents in her bed,” he says, “but seems to be comfortable. And she always seems a little stronger after her treatments.” He looks over at his beloved dog and adds, “Right, Faithie?”
I give Faith her check-up, first from a Western perspective, feeling her belly, examining her vertebrae one by one, extending her hips, checking her reflexes, and listening to her heart. Her diagnosis is arthritis and muscle atrophy. Then I assess her Chinese diagnosis – Kidney yang deficiency with Blood stagnation – by checking her pulses and examining the color of her tongue. I insert a needle into a spot on the top of her head, her “calming point,” to keep her relaxed for the duration of the treatment, and then place some needles along her spine and in her legs to provide pain relief and to boost her strength and immune system. Faith doesn’t seem to mind the needles and lies patiently for the fifteen minutes that her treatment lasts.
During this time, Joe and I sit on the floor next to Faith and talk about her condition and about current events. I offer him some advice about diet and supplements for Faith, and he, a lawyer and avid CNN watcher, gives me his take on the day’s news. Joe tells me that Faith has returned to her normal happy-go-lucky self since she started a course of antibiotics two weeks ago for a urinary tract infection that had made her weak and disoriented.
We had another scare a few months ago when Faith’s appetite suddenly dropped. I arranged an ultrasound, which revealed a tumor in her liver, and then referred her to an oncologist for consultation. Recommending surgery for such an elderly girl made me nervous, but her dads were determined to do everything possible and scheduled it right away. Luckily, the biopsy determined the tumor to be benign, and she’s since made a remarkable recovery.
Joe tells me again about how he and Scott adopted Faith eight years ago from Second Chance Rescue after she’d been found on a roadside in Modesto. “Scott had been hankering for a dog, but I didn’t grow up with dogs and was dead-set against it. And then one day there was this motley looking Border Collie in my inbox. We went to go meet her, and the smartest thing she ever did was come right up to me and put her head in my lap.”
Close-up photos featuring Faith’s long snout and plaintive eyes are scattered throughout Joe and Scott’s home. They have started sleeping in the downstairs guest bedroom to be close to Faith, who can no longer negotiate the stairs.
Although we don’t like to talk about it much, Joe and I are both aware that before too long, Faith’s legs may fail her, or she won’t be interested in eating her tasty meals, and we’ll have to make a decision to say goodbye.
We both feel better knowing that when that day comes, she will be peacefully sleeping in her own bed with the people she loves around her. In the meantime, we’ve been able to extend her days of lounging contentedly by the sliding glass doors, watching Joe throw peanuts to the squirrels.
I take out Faith’s acupuncture needles one at a time, give her some Adequan to protect her joints, and inject Vitamin B12 into an acupuncture point. Finally, I plant a big kiss on her furry forehead before I bid her and her dad farewell.
Rachael Feigenbaum, VMD graduated from the University of Pennsylvania in 2001 and started Lotus Veterinary House Calls serving San Francisco and Pacifica in 2008. She incorporates both Western and Chinese medicine into her practice. Dr. Feigenbaum also sees patients by appointment on Thursdays at Pets Unlimited. For more information, visit http://lotusveterinary.com.
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