Vet’s diary: pet perspectives!

Peterborough vet Laura Frost describes a typical day – from the perspective of a patient!

It a sunny morning and I hear my owner coming down the stairs. I sit obediently by my food bowl waiting for my breakfast. I love food. After all I am a Labrador. It is all I think about, along with chasing the ball, chasing cats and there was something else… Ouch. Oh yes, this blasted itchy ear. I keep forgetting about it, then having scratching frenzies, then forgetting about it, then… You get the picture. Anyway. Breakfast. She is going to the cupboard. She is getting my biscuits out. And. Wait. She is putting the biscuits back. ‘No breakfast today Harry. Nearly forgot.’ What. No breakfast? I sit at her feet with pleading eyes, but her arms remain folded as she meets my gaze. I sigh and go to curl up in my bed to rub my ear again the plastic edge. ‘Harry. No. You will make it worse. Good job we are going to the V. E. T. today.’ V. E. T. No idea what that is.

She has my lead. Walkies! If I can’t have breakfast at least I can go for a walk. Maybe there will be a squirrel I can chase in the park. Drat. We are heading towards the car. Hmm. Maybe we are going to Ferry Meadows. A duck to chase? But we pull up outside a building and walk into a large room with chairs all around the outside. Suddenly I am hit by a hundred different smells: big dogs, little dogs, cats, and a strange musky smell that must be quite old. I have smelt it before but can’t quite place it. I dive under table to have a good sniff. Ah. Ferret. How unusual.

“The humans are talking in complicated words that I don’t understand but their tone is kind so I am not afraid”

A nice lady in green walks over and bends down to pat my head. ‘Good boy Harry,’ she says in a soft voice. We are soon called through by a small brown haired lady with a big grin. She takes us through to a room with a table. At first it is exciting. Even more smells. I put my feet up on the table and look at all the strange objects laid out. The humans are talking in complicated words that I don’t understand but their tone is kind so I am not afraid. The lady reaches for an object with a light and pats my head. Ouch. She obviously put her hand on my sore ear by mistake. I pull away.

Next she holds my ear and gently talks to me as she shines the light inside. That is OK. Not too sore. They she tries to slide something cold inside my ear. I try to be brave but it is very sore so I spin in circles and bark at her. ‘I think it will be kinder to sedate him and give the ear a good clean out. Then we can look properly without hurting him,’ she says. What are they talking about? I am taken through to a different room without my mum and asked to sit on a large raised pad on the floor. ‘32kg,’ I hear, ‘nice to see a slim Labrador’. I know that I am a Labrador so a wag my tail furiously.

“My ear feels amazing. I can hear out of both ears for the first time in a week!”

Next, two people in green give me a big hug so that I keep my bum still. I feel a small sting for a few seconds in one of my muscles before a sense of peace comes over me. I am not sure how much time passes but I feel happy and calm. Someone is doing something to my ear and I can hear faint voices. One part still feels a little itchy so my back leg makes a scratching motion without me intending it to. I hear kind laughter and a firm hand is placed on my leg to keep it still. I wake up on a fluffy blanket on the floor. My ear feels amazing. I can hear out of both ears for the first time in a week. I lift my head and look around as everything comes back into focus. The lady who brought me through strokes my nose and says, ‘Welcome back Harry. I’ll just call your mum.’

I am walking (or wobbling) through to a kennel. At first I am reluctant but a big bowl of food in put in the back corner and I eat every last bite. By the time I have finished, the kennel door opens and my lead is clipped on. I walk back out to the big room with all the chairs to see my mum rushing towards me. ‘Do you feel better Harry?’ she says. I know that I am Harry, so I wag my tail until it nearly falls off. I am covered in kisses, then bundled back in to the car, where I happily snooze until we pull up outside our house ready for lunch number two.

Laura Frost MRCVS MA VetMB is a vet at local veterinary practice Pengelly and Mizen.

Pengelly and Mizen Veterinary Surgeons 89-93 Park Road, Peterborough PE1 2TR T: 01733 554953 Emergencies only: 01733 896000 www.pengellyandmizen.co.uk