Bruno's Blog – a complete animal at work

I’ve just seen Mitzi.

Mitzi is a fat cat, although not as fat a cat as the recently disgraced Sir Fred (‘the shred’) Goodwin who was back in the news again recently. He apparently attended a charity auction but declined to bid for anything, which seems a bit on the tight side given the amount of our collective cash that he is trousering for his pension.

Menawhile, Mitzi has just been weighed in at a mere 8.75 kg.

Given that the average weight for a domestic cat in the UK is about 4.5kg, by any measure Mitzi is a trifle overweight. She had always been on the large side at 5.5kg but during a short period in early 2007 when she moved into the calmer surroundings of bachelor accomodation (images of beer and pizza, but actually it was because she was out of the clutches of Coco the hyperactive Minature Pinscher who would never leave her alone), she ballooned to 7.5kg.

And there she stayed (having meanwhile moved to Las Vegas, although that lifestyle change didn’t work out at all, mainly for human reasons) until the beginning of this year, since when, back in the UK, she has edged up to 8.75kg, which is really TOO MUCH.

Given the potentially very serious health consequences of obesity in cats, her Dad and I had the fat cat chat again this morning and agreed a reduced calorie intake diet for her.

“Feed her less”

“I can’t”

“Yes you can”

“But if I feed her less at night she’ll attack me”

“?”

“In the middle of the night, if she’s cross or hungry she’ll creep up on me then pounce…”

“Sounds OK – a small price to pay”

“With full evil intent, scratching and biting to draw blood? Want to see the scars?”

“Hmm. Not really. Maybe you should give that extra late night snack after all. But go light on the breakfast”

I figured that he might be in better shape to fend off the Kato-style attacks (remember Peter Sellars in the Pink Panther?) if they occurred during daylight.

I’ll keep you posted, but Mitzy’s Dad took some consolation from my tale of Larry the cat who came in last week weighing a massive 11.25kg.

That’s 11.25kg.

But he is the size of a small Labrador, so maybe it’s allowed

Just back from a few days in France… Oh I know, the last entry was full of disparaging remarks about the French and then I exposed myself as a snake by going there and enjoying it. Sorry.

In one of the brief breaks in the torrential rain, my son and I went exploring, specifically in fact to find and visit the remains of a 10th century hill fort of a type known as a Motte Castrale. Which is of course fascinating to everyone.

Whilst imagining to ourselves what it must have been like living in a glorified wooden hut on top of a windy hill in northern France around 1000 years ago, we bumped into a local who was carrying a rather fancy looking mushroom-carrying box, clearly with mushrooms in it. It is, after all, the season.

‘Ah – you have come for the sheep?’ He asked.

‘Err….I don’t think so’ I said, giving my best confused look, wondering how he had spotted that there was an errant English vet stumbling up the hillside obviously ill-equipped for gathering mushrooms but clearly (in his mind) ready for sheep-related activities.

‘There’s a sheep up there with it’s head stuck in the fence. Never mind – I’ll go and report it at the Town Hall.’

Rather than advertise my profession and then risk the possibility of a crowd of local farmers chortling into their champignons as the stupid eenglish vet failed to untangle the sheep, or worse killed it in the process, I nodded and agreed with him that that was probably a good idea (would my local Town Hall be that interested, I wondered?).

We carried on the ascent, and soon enough came upon said sheep, bravely trying to get downhill through a small hole in a very solid looking piece of wire fencing. Reverse gear was clearly not an option on this particular model. With some wrestling, bleated protests and inappropriate curses, the beast was freed and set off trying to pretend that nothing had happened.

Imagine my surprise when on the way down we encountered 2 very rotund men on a tractor heading up the hill in our direction.

I knew the drill.

‘Ah – have you come for the sheep?’ I asked, my imagination spinning off for a moment into the idea that this could be some bizarre and probably smutty shaggy dog story…

‘Oui.’

‘No need’ I said. ‘It’s done.’

‘OK.’

And off they went. I wondered what they talked about on the way back to the Town Hall.

‘Did you zee zat, Henri?’

‘Yes it was that stupid eenglish vet.’

‘Ee didn’t find ze mushrooms?’

‘Non.’

‘Tres bien.’

But now we’re not quite sure why, since it is a disease native to many other countries in Europe, South America and areas of Canada. It is caused by parasite called Angiostrongylus vasorum, and it’s quite a problem in the UK at the moment, is French heartworm.

Probably called it that because we didn’t like the French much at the time. Someone in a position to do so thought they should call a nasty little parasite after them on the basis that:

1) it was nasty

2) it was carried by slugs and snails (Ha! See? Snails in garlic butter. They all eat them. And Frogs- say no more)

3) it causes coughing (as in too many Gitanes cigarettes?)

4) it can cause unexpected and potentially fatal bleeding (no particular link here, other than a general sense of untrustworthiness, which is clearly French)

Anyway, French heartworm it was, until recently, when it has been suggested (possibly in deference to the fact that Tony B might soon be Sarkozy’s boss and he’s so short and grumpy we wouldn’t want to offend him) that we now call it ‘the small heartworm of dogs’.

Now there’s a snappy little moniker.

Being ‘the small heartworm of dogs’ would distinguish it from the large heartworm, or Dirofilaria immitis, which we don’t have in the UK anyway, so that would help.

Another suggestion is that we call it ‘Angio’, which at least rolls off the tongue more easily.

But the word ‘Angio’ reminds me of ‘Gastro’, which is commonly used as a short form for gastro-enteritis, the medical condition where inflammation and/or infection of the digestive tract leads to vomiting and diarrhoea.

‘Gastro’ is also the name of our local French restaurant, but that’s the French for you. Wild and crazy sense of humour…

Which brings me back to the point. ‘Angio’ is now well established in the UK with 20% of practices having seen suspected cases in the last year. So TREAT YOUR PETS, folks. Ask your vets. Use Advocate.

Did you know that it has been estimated that if 10,00 dogs made a 2 week trip to Germany, the probability of at least one of them returning to the UK infected with the tapeworm Echinococcus multilocularis was 98%?

And that if the stays were longer, the probability would rise to over 99%?

Can you imagine being even slightly interested?

You would be if you or anyone you knew also contracted the disease in question. It is the reason that cats and dogs coming back into the UK through the Pet Travel (Pet Passport) Scheme have to have a tapeworm treatment just before coming back in. The figures are an estimate that has been prepared and publicised as one of the reasons that the UK should be allowed to maintain parasite controls before allowing pets to come on in. To stop you or I being getting infected.

But all that does not take us away from the bizarre image of 10,000 dogs on a 2 week trip to Germany… Are you still with me?

In the same rivetting magazine, an article entitled ‘Normal function of the hypothalamic-pituitry growth axis in three dwarf Friesian foals’.

Now there’s a catchy title for you. I can hear the wheels of Google whirring away as you all desperately search for the executive summary. But you don’t need to worry: ‘the basal serum concentrations of IGF-1 in the dwarf foals were not significantly different from those of normal foals’.

Phew.

I’m sure you’ve already seen it, but just in case you haven’t, take a look at this You tube clip.

Of course it’s easy to mock, and on the face of it nothing seems more absurd and worthy of ridicule than the practice of homeopathy, but as a medical practice it just won’t go away.

I remember some years ago there had been an announcement on homeopathy that featured in the national news. A young reporter was trying, metaphorically speaking, to nail a homeopathic doctor to the wall about the apparent potential of the placebo effect.

The doctor’s final frustrated comment was along the lines of:

“Look, I’m a doctor. People come to see me at the Glasgow Royal Homeopathic Hospital (an NHS hospital no less) because they feel ill. We take a full history and then treat them with nothing but homeopathic remedies. When the treatment is over, they feel better. Now what more do you really want?”

In our practice, we regularly see case outcomes that we would not have expected without homeopathic input. Does that make us cranks, or just clincians trying to do the right thing for our patients?

Those of you who know us and particularly our clinic will know that we have an ongoing interest in natural medicine and particularly the interface between modern medicine, surgery and the world of complementary medicine and all that that entails.

Which means that I keep a pretty close eye on new products that appear on the market where they contain ‘interesting’ ingredients.

How about Seraquin? Glucosamine and Chondroitin we know very well, but the secret extra ingredient is TURMERIC, better known to most of us as a key ingredient of curries.

I remember seeing local healers giving raw egg and turmeric massages in the rural markets of Morocco many years ago and it turns out that it has been around in the Middle and Far East as a remedy for muscular and joint pains for hundreds if not thousand of years.

There was another product containing Turmeric called Xanthofen launched a few years back, but it fell flat on its face. Whereas Seraquin is now top of the pile for joint supplements for pets, and they’ve just launched Seraquin GLME? for horses… GLME? I hear you ask – thats Green Lipped Mussel Extract.

And now here’s another Morocco link. Much of my work there was dealing with the desperate conditions of the working animals – getting on for a million working donkeys, 600,000 mules and 250,00 horses, who laboured under the most apalling conditions. Deep infected wounds from ill-fitting saddles and harnesses were common and difficult for us to treat. Antibiotics were often needed, but some of the really nasty deep infected pus-discharging wounds needed more desperate measures…

Honey.

We did as the ancient Eqyptians did, and used honey. Glooped into the wound and held in place with a dressing, it killed the bacteria, helped break up the dead and dying tissue, cleared the smell and provided a great environment for the new healing tissue. It worked a treat.

And what do I see on my desk this morning?

New product! Activon Medical Grade Manuka Honey (UMF+12).

The old ones are the best.

And that’s not just me we’re talking about…

OK, so I suppose I need to write the obligatory piece on pets and Fireworks.

Let’s face it, most pets are terrified of fireworks, and this time of year is a major headache not just for them but for those of us who have to figure out how to deal with the fallout.

I had a client who came in the other day with exactly this problem: she lives in central London, not far, in fact, from a certain well-known billionnaire who likes to celebrate Diwali with a full-on 45 minute firework display in his own back garden, during which her Labrador – and no doubt many others – will be reduced to a shivering panting wreck.

Coming up on October 17th, just a week from today folks!

Followed a couple of weeks later by the more traditional English celebration of ‘the only man ever to enter parliament with honest intentions’. Oh, and then soon enough there’ll be New Year.

What is this new fascination with pyrotechnics? We used to be happy with a few bangers in the garden on one specific day of the year, but now the season goes on and on, and it seems that the big boys love them even more.

Just this week we have seen fit to award the Nobel Peace prize to the biggest firework lighter of our time: step forward President Obama. What was it again that he’s actually done? Was it pulling out and stopping the war, or was it sending more troops into the war zone?

D’you know I’m just not quite sure. And come to think of it, what was it exactly that Alfred Nobel invented? Goodness me, I believe it might have been dynamite. Maybe that’s why Obama got the prize.

But all this is an idle and scurrilous diversion: what are you going to do about the fireworks?

Try this link for starters: Fireworks.

Tomorrow – that’s Monday 28th September – is World Rabies Day, and as vets we are being asked to ‘raise our client’s awareness’ of the implications of rabies when discussing their pet’s future travel arrangments.

Not difficult. Rabies is a hideous disease. Apparently worldwide it kills about 150 people EVERY DAY, of which over 100 are children. That’s about one every 10 minutes, day in and day out.

My advice? It’s not rocket science: stay well away from unknown dogs in rabies endemic areas. You can be infected with rabies by something as trivial as a lick over an area of broken skin from an infected animal – it doesn’t take a deep bite, contrary to common belief.

We just don’t know how lucky we are in the UK, both a general members of the public and I suppose particularly as vets. Responsible parents have to teach their kids about contact with dogs: all the stuff about don’t pull their tails/ears/chops, don’t tease them or give them reason to be upset. Take great care with dogs you don’t know, let them come to you and if they growl at you, go back to tiddlewinks/football/playstation: it’s safer.

And if you do get a nip, at least they don’t have rabies.

We remain firm supporters of the Pet Travel Scheme that allows pets in and out of the country with the appropriate paperwork, but also find that many dog owners when it comes to it fancy a break from twice daily dog walks as much as they do from the daily grind at the office and still pop the pooch into the kennels whilst they check out the poolside action.

Which is probably a good thing on the disease front.

And many of the dogs that come back through our clinic from the kennels we use look as if they’ve more fun than their owners – at least they haven’t been arguing all holiday…

OK, by popular demand, we’re back. The blog returns.

The truth of the matter is that we picked up a software glitch in the blog doo-dah and it wouldn’t work anymore. I then got distracted with other work stuff (you know, running a vet practice, running an internet dispensary, running a wife, family, house, car, garden, negotiating a daughter through GCSE’s) and suddenly it was holiday time. And I remained distracted for much longer than I’d intended.

Actually it turns out I’d cut-and-pasted some text from a word document into the blog and that that is something that you must not do, for it risks importing Word formatting into the blog doo-dah and the blog doo-dah clearly does not like it, and goes on strike.

And then I lost heart.

But that was then and this is now: the tail end of Pet Smile Month.

Frankly, it’s never really done it for me – we tried promoting dental care through taking part in the national Pet Smile Month for a few years, but the uptake from our clients was laughably poor. They’re smart enough to realise that it’s all a bit of a ruse: offer free dental health checks (fantastic) on the strength of which the clinic picks up a load of extra dental care cases.

You know what? If we believe in the importance of good dental care – which we do, passionately – we should be promoting it and banging on about it all the time.

Oh, and feeding our pets properly. Not gunk, not pate all the time, not over-cooked sticky carbohydrate-rich biscuity things all the time.

Raw food. Raw meaty bones. Veg. A good mixed nutritionally varied diet. Wins every time

Since the start of the Pet Travel Scheme in 2000, over 571,000 cats dogs & ferrets have entered the UK. In 2008 alone, the totals were 98,737 dogs and 10,700 cats.

Having travelled regularly with my dog, I have first-hand experience of the pleasure of going into a restaurant in France without having some nork telling you that it’s against the law to bring your dog in with you (which despite what they say, it isn’t, at least in the UK).

The main argument for the old quarantine system was that it kept Rabies out of the UK, and half a million pets later, it appears that the system does work.

However, what didn’t feature in the public debate was the fact that we also wanted to keep a number of other nasty foreign diseases out.

Amongst them were insect-spread infections with fantastic names like leishmaniasis, babesiasis, erhlichiosis, dirofilariasis, and a particularly nasty tapeworm called Echinococcus multilocularis that is rather good at killing people in eastern Europe as we speak.

Although we do not have anything approaching accurate figures, all the relevant authorities agree (and that includes the vets in practice who now see the cases), that these diseases – except the nasty tapeworm one - are here in the UK and are becoming steadily more common.

The current period of ’special requirement’ for dogs and cats to have a tick & tapeworm treatment before entry into the UK is due to come to an end in September 2010, and the EU, in it’s search for harmonisation, is minded to leave open the borders for animal transport into the UK, so watch out.

In a couple of years words like leishmaniasis, babesiasis, erhlichiosis, dirofilariasis, and a particularly nasty tapeworm called Echinococcus multilocularis will be tripping off your tongue in the way that ‘flea’ and ‘tick’ do today…

But that’s EU harmonisation for you.