Through Their Eyes


Just imagine, You are in a foreign country, surrounded by people that
are very different from you. Their dress is extremely different, their
mannerisms are completely different (at times even frightening), and
they speak a different language. Just imagine that you can only
understand a few of their spoken words, learned from the brief time you
spent with them.

One day you eat something that does not agree with you. You start
vomiting. You can’t hold it back, it just comes out. These foreigners that
you live with yell at you because you vomited on their floor. Your
stomach is churning and you don't know what to do. You are scared
and you can feel that they are unhappy with you.

They put you in a car and take you to a new place. You walk in the door
and sit there with others like you. You can finally communicate . You
hear horror stories of your kind being stuck with needles, poked and
prodded. Your sense of smell is assaulted with harsh medicinal odors,
along with feces, urine and fear much like your own.

Its your turn to disappear down the hall and you are taken into a room.
The foreigners talk to each other in their language and you are lifted onto
a cold metal table. No one asked your permission to pick you up, let
alone touch you. A stranger holds you down while another shines a light
in your eyes, looks in your ears and pushes on your belly. You are then
led away with a rope around your neck to another room and lifted onto
another table. You are held down while they position a big machine over
you and the smell of strong chemicals makes your stomach even more
uncomfortable. You struggle, and the more you struggle the tighter you
are held. The strangers raise their voices at you. Their looks are
threatening. They talk to each other and sometimes even laugh. You
don't know if they are laughing at you struggling helplessly on the table.

The people you came with are no where to be found. You are more
afraid. The strangers grab your arm and stick a needle in it and wrap it
up with some tape. It burns. They hook you up with a strange plastic
bag with liquid in it. They pick you up again, put in a cold metal cage
and walk away.

As you read these paragraphs, what did you feel? Anger? Pain? Fear?
Outrage? What would you do in this situation? Scream at the strangers?
Struggle? Lash out with your fists? Cry? If this happened to your sister
or your child, how fast would you call a lawyer?

This happens every day to our beloved family members, not in exotic
lands, but right here. This is just a glimpse at what a sick animal, your
pet, experiences at the veterinarians office.

The veterinarians, the assistants and the technicians are not evil, mean
people. Most try to be compassionate and kind, but they do not know
how to communicate with their patients. Sure, they can tell you what is
going on. “Buddy is dehydrated from vomiting and he needs an IV
catheter for fluids, he also needs an x-ray so that we can see if he ate
something that is obstructing his GI tract..” You are relieved because
Buddy is getting medical help, unfortunately, nobody explained this to
Buddy.

Animals know and understand a whole lot more then most realize. They
understand most of our everyday spoken language, they understand time
and seasons, and they understand emotions. They communicate
verbally, with body language and with telepathy.

It would be a beautiful thing if the veterinary profession learned to
communicate with their patients as well as they communicate with their
clients. It would not take in depth studies of paranormal
communications, it would just take the spoken word, a little extra time
and understanding. Lets rewrite the above story from the time Buddy
walks into the vet office.

Buddy is greeted by a smiling stranger who moves slowly, kneels down
to his level and introduces themselves in soft voice. “ Hi, Buddy, my
name is Mary, I hear you aren't feeling well today. We are going to help
you to feel better. You are very handsome, I love your brown eyes. May
I pet you?” Mary reaches over slowly and gently strokes Buddy.
“Buddy, would you please come with me? You can bring your people
along. We need to go into the exam room so we can take a better look at
what's bothering you.”

Once in the exam room, Mary asks permission to lift Buddy onto the
exam table and explains to him what she is going to do and the reason
for it. When it is time to get an x-ray, Buddy is told that a picture is
needed to see if there is anything inside him that is making him sick. He
is told that he needs to lay on his side on the table and be still. It may
smell unusual in that room but nothing will hurt him. It will take just a
few minutes and he will be able to sit up.

The technician then explains to Buddy that they need to put medicine in
his arm to help him feel better. He is told that he will feel a cold wet spot
on his arm and then a little prick. He is told that tape is needed to hold
the medicine needle in place so that he can get all he needs. When he
cooperates he is told how brave he is. Buddy is then told he has to stay
for awhile so all the medicine can drip into his arm. He is reassured that
his people will come back at 5 o'clock to get him and bring him home.

Most veterinary offices don't work this way at this time. Until they do, it
is you job to do the explaining. Talk to your pet through the exam. Ask
the veterinarian what is coming next so you can explain it to your
animal. Explain to your pet why they need vaccines, medication, or any
medical procedure. Ask the veterinarian what any procedure feels like,
why your pet needs that procedure, what type of pain is involved, how
long will the pain last, etc. If your veterinarian won’t explain things to
you in detail or answer your questions to your satisfaction, FIND
ANOTHER VET.

I have found that in informing my animal about everything that is
happening to them and the reason for it, they have become much more
cooperative and our bond has become stronger. I was taught this by my
dog Boomie.

Boomie came to me at 8 weeks old. I was told he was a Shepherd-
Newfoundland cross. Later I found out he was an Akita-Rottweiler
cross. (If I had known that going in, I would have run screaming into
the night). Raising him was a challenge to say the least. He was strong
willed and sometimes aggressive, He bit 4 people (2 people worked in
the vets office and the other was a dog trainer) including myself by the
time he was 4 months old. I tried everything I was told to do by dog
trainers and vets from neutering at 5 months old to prong collars and
sound aversion. The next thing that was suggested was a shock collar.
Every fiber in by being railed against it. Even though he had “issues” he
was my friend. How could I shock my friend? At my wits end and close
to tears, I sat down with him and just talked to him about his behavior,
my inability to get through to him, my fears and sorrows.. He looked at
me and seemed to listen. The next day he was a little calmer. At first I
was not sure if I was imagining things but I continued to have
conversations with him and slowly but surely his behavior changed.

Now he's 6 years old, we enjoy our walks together. People can come up
and pet him. Last summer he went swimming with my friends children.
He happily pulled them across the lake while they hung on to the fur on
his back. He gladly sits while I clip his nails (before he threw me across
the room). Just recently he had some blood drawn from his foreleg. He
sat willingly, allowed his arm to be held, and did not move until the
procedure was over. We have come a long way together.

Someday the veterinary profession may incorporate communication with
medication but until that day, we need to be the champions for our
animals.