I always wanted to be a veterinarian, which Iʼm sure was connected to my fatherʼs love of dogs. He got his first dog when he was about ten years old. She was a dirt- covered little mutt living on the streets of Brooklyn who followed him home from school one day (actually coaxed with food from Dadʼs lunch).
My dad bathed her and she turned into a white fluff ball who just wanted to be held. She never left his side, and every day after school he would whistle and Brownie would magically appear. Dad still tears up when he talks about how hard it was, after 18 years together, to take her to the veterinarian to be euthanized. My father is now 92 and Brownieʼs picture still hangs on the wall next to his kitchen table.
Speck was my dadʼs next dog and my first. She was a neglected Dalmation handed over to him by a stranger he met while she was out walking her baby one day. My mother, never much of an animal person, wasnʼt consulted but knew how much my father missed Brownie, so she agreed to take in Speck.
Every day, Dad took her onto the rooftop of our apartment building to chase a ball for some exercise. She would leap over the low roof partitions, catching the ball in the air. One day the ball bounced off the roof and Speck leaped over the edge and fell five stories, landing on the roof of the garage next door. My father was sickened by what he had done and rushed her to the local veterinary hospital. Both her front legs were broken and he sold his car to pay for her extensive medical care. After Speck died we had a series of Golden Retrievers that filled our home and our hearts.
My dad had tremendous respect for our veterinarians, but it was always my mother and I who took our dogs to the doctor when they became ill. My father could not bear to go, as the thought of his dog being sick or in pain was just to much for him. How glad he was when the veterinarian told us that one of our dogs just had a minor problem, and how deeply he mourned them all when it was time to let them go.
Every day in my hospital I see my father in the clients who bring in their dogs for me to help. Whether it is a simple problem like an ear infection or something more complicated, I am entrusted with helping both my canine patients and their caregivers. My duty as a healer is first to do no harm, second to try to relieve any pain or suffering , and third to use my knowledge and resources to solve the mystery of what could be wrong with a particular dog.
I am required be a good detective as dogs often present with issues I have never seen before. This especially goes for the wide range of objects dogs like to swallow, such as rubber duckies (three in one dogʼs stomach), a glass brownie pan that had broken as my patient dragged it off the counter, a large mixing spoon, and a whole assortment of balls.
My canine patients keep my work interesting by allowing me to be jack of all trades. On any given day Iʼm a dermatologist trying to solve skin problems, a dentist and oral surgeon (the most common problems in dogs are from dental disease), an orthopedist seeking the cause of lameness since my patients canʼt tell me where it hurts, and a surgeon fixing lacerations and removing lumps and bumps. As an internist I get the opportunity to diagnose and treat both infectious diseases and illnesses caused by organ failure or age-related changes.
Another important part of my job is to educate each dogʼs human companion about the available options. Making a dog well again is always a team effort involving me, the animal, and his or her person.
Working with dogs has its own special rewards. It takes very little effort to form a bond with most dogs, and I often wonder what makes dogs so happy and eager to engage. Unlike any other species, dogs for the most part never have a bad day – unless they are mistreated. If one could only bottle the secret to their happiness! I get great satisfaction from treating sick or injured dogs who often show very little emotion. Watching dogs change back into happy, wiggly, tail-wagging patients as they improve is always gratifying.
During this holiday season, the love and devotion that dogs show their caretakers, and the many benefits they bestow upon us humans, are truly gifts to be cherished.
Dr. Gutlaizer has been practicing veterinary medicine at Oaklandʼs Broadway Pet Hospital since 1985. A lifetime animal lover, he currently lives in Oakland with his wife, two sons, three cats, and a rescue dog named Stewie, whom he nursed back to health after severe brain trauma.
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