I've finished up my schedule at the vet clinic for the winter break. I could have lazed around the house for three weeks, and don't get me wrong, I like lazing around the house and I know that I've extolled the virtues of naps here before, but I decided to be slightly more productive. Overall, it was a good experience. While routine stuff like vaccinations and nail trims seem to be an easy target to mock if your aspirations are to become an veterinary orthopedic surgeon, for example, my experience on Friday with Caramel, a terrier mix that boards with the clinic fairly regularly, stands out as an example of why every experience in a vet clinic can be a learning experience (name changed to protect the innocent).
Caramel weighs about 20 pounds. He's a low-slung, long-bodied dog with a broken-wire coat that is, not surprisingly, the color of caramel. He's also an asshole. He's fine as long as you don't try to do anything with him or to him. In other words, nearly every action that you have to perform on a dog boarding in a vet clinic falls under the category of "doing something with or to him." Caramel is a biter. He gives no warning and he's fast as a cobra. He's nearly impossible to put a leash on (nearly all of us have been bitten by him while trying to remove a leash). Forget nail trims unless he's sedated for some other reason (too bad he can only be neutered once). Unfortunately, when he was dropped off on Friday, his records showed that he was overdue for his bordatella vaccination. This vaccination is required for all dogs that are boarded in most facilities. The vaccination won't protect against all strains of the virus but it covers many of them. And bordatella, or kennel cough, is amazingly contagious. The vaccine can be injected but there is an intranasal version that takes effect much faster.
Can you see the problem here? Mean little biter who can't be touched but has to have some liquid injected into his nose. You know, that thing located immediately next to his snapping teeth.
The boarding staff are often young people with little vet experience. It's where a lot of vet techs and future vet students start getting that experience. They certainly couldn't deal with Caramel and his issues. So one of the day nurses recruited me.
I put on elbow-length, shearling-lined leather welder's gloves and grabbed a large towel. I trapped Caramel by my legs and swooped him up in the towel, twisting one end around his neck to keep his front feet inside the towel and to stabilize his head. He screamed and bit my hands and screamed some more. But--surprise! That did not produce the result Caramel wanted or expected. He was still wrapped up in the towel. And was he ever pissed about that. Okay, step one completed. Step two: the muzzle. Every time the day nurse got the muzzle even close to his head, he lunged and bit at it, then screamed and bit me some more. Finally, tiring of such rudeness, I shook him and, using the The Voice, I said "knock it the hell off!" I doubt Caramel is rarely told "no"--he was so shocked that he stopped still. The nurse rapidly slipped the muzzle on his face. We let him scream a bit more, then she gently placed her hand on his face, moving it down his snout. Of course he struggled and screamed, but I had a very good hold on him. Once she had his nose in hand--squirt, squirt into his nostrils--and it was done. She immediately removed the muzzle. I bent over and released him, removing the towel and stepping back in one motion. He went right up to one of the boarding techs wagging his tail (unfortunately, it's a ruse--you can't pet Caramel, but she knew that).
Restraining an animal can take many forms. Usually, less is more. A hard hold on an animal can stress them before you even jab then with a needle or clip a nail. Animals might need to be positioned sternally or on their sides, or maybe they need to be standing. The tech or doctor might need access to the head or neck, the back, the flank, a limb. You can use wraps, as I did in the case of Caramel. Precious little bits like the 11-week-old chihuahua pup in for her first vaccinations get the "boob hold"--cuddled in our arms right next to our chest. There's usually some jockeying among the nurses to determine who holds and who pokes in those cases (we always take a temperature before giving a vaccination because you don't vaccinate a sick animal, then there's the needle poke for the vaccination itself)--everyone wants to hold cute puppies and kittens.
Working at the clinic during the day gave me a chance to learn how to finesse my basic knowledge of animal restraint. It was time well spent.
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