Vets on Call

Valley veterinarians join forces

to provide round-the-clock emergency care

By Steve Kadel-Frontiersman reporter

Firefighters saved Teri-Lynn Bennett's home off Knik River Road when a blaze broke out Wednesday. But the house was secondary in Bennett's thoughts that evening as her cat clung to life at Palmer Veterinary Clinic.

Tabitha was in the house for an hour before the fire went out, and had sucked down lots of smoke.

"She was up high in my bedroom closet," Bennett said. "She hangs out there."

As soon as she found the 5-year-old long-haired black cat, Bennett raced to the closest clinic she could find. It was just past the 6 p.m. closing time when she arrived, so Bennett figured the doors would be locked.

They weren't, though. Bennett entered to find Dr. John Tuomi and two vet techs ready to work on Tabitha. The Palmer clinic provides after-hours emergency pet care on a rotating basis with All Creatures Veterinary Clinic and Wasilla Veterinary Clinic. It was Palmer's turn Wednesday.

Tuomi listened to Tabitha's heart and gave her a general once-over while licensed technician Michieal Salmon held an oxygen tube in the cat's mouth. Besides four liters of oxygen per minute, Tabitha was given steroids and a diuretic to draw fluid from her lungs.

Tuomi talked with Bennett in the clinic's front office after administering the initial treatment.

"She'll have to stay here tonight," he said. "As far as the prognosis is concerned, it's guarded for something like that."

"You think she might not make it?" Bennett asked.

"You can't guarantee with smoke inhalation," Tuomi replied.

Meanwhile, Salmon continued working on the cat. She rigged up a homemade oxygen tent for Tabitha, and put an IV in her leg.

Tuomi told Bennett he'd call her at home about 9 p.m. with a status report. Then Bennett went to the back room to say good-bye to her cat. Salmon already had good news.

"Her respiration rate has dropped from 60 when she came in to about 48 now," the tech said. "She's a bit more comfortable."

Bennett smiled and said, "She's been a perfect, perfect pet."

She gave Tabitha one last gentle stroke before leaving. Across the room, Tuomi wrote details about the cat's condition in a new-patient folder. He'd just finished when another emergency arrived. A Labrador retriever had been hit on the head with a baseball bat.

"Fortunately, Labs have pretty hard heads," Tuomi joked as he went to another room to meet Isha.

The 4-year-old female had a big knot on her nose where Natalie Binggeli's son, Theron, accidentally hit her with a metal T-ball bat. Evidently Isha couldn't contain her excitement to chase the ball and leaped into the path of Theron's swing.

"She was panting and drooling," Binggeli said. "She couldn't stand up. When I couldn't get her heinie off the ground I thought it was brain damage."

Tuomi turned off the room lights and flicked on a tiny flashlight to check Isha's eyes.

"Her pupils are the same size," he said after the exam, "and it didn't break any teeth."

"It scared me half to death when I did that," 7-year-old Theron said. "It looked like I knocked her out."

"Well, you probably did," Tuomi said.

"She walked like she'd had a 12-pack on the way to the car," Binggeli told him.

Tuomi pronounced the Lab fit, saying she was probably dazed by the blow but hadn't suffered lasting effects. Theron looked relieved, and hugged the dog as 10-year-old sister Kayla smiled.

They'd barely gotten Isha into the car when another patient came rolling into the parking lot. This time it was a young Siamese cat that had been hit by a car. Tuomi had a serious look on his face as he felt the cat's hindquarters.

"This one's pretty rough," he said to technician Beth An Moseley, whose shirt said "Pain Police" on the back.

Unfortunately for the Siamese, Tuomi's assessment was right. The gray cat had crawled under a tire of its owner's car and suffered such severe damage that it had to be put down.

Tuomi is well acquainted with the wins and losses of emergency care, having been a veterinarian since 1978. On the plus side Wednesday, the Lab had romped home happily and as of Friday afternoon Tabitha the cat was still at the clinic but holding her own.

Tuomi worked a full day before starting his on-call night. All the action with two cats and a dog occurred within 90 minutes and it wasn't even 8 p.m. yet. Thursday was the doctor's day off but most times he and the other emergency vets come right back for a regular shift after being on call.

Sometimes they get lucky, though. On Tuesday, Dr. Phil Meyer of Wasilla Veterinary Clinic didn't get a single call all night. That balanced a previous emergency shift where he treated two dogs and a cat within 90 minutes.

The most unusual case that night was an Alaskan husky with a stick lodged between an eyeball and eyelid. The dog bounded into the woods during a hike at Crevasse Moraine Trails, reappearing 15 minutes later with a stick protruding 4 inches straight out of its head.

Dr. Meyer put the animal under anesthetic and removed the stick. He prescribed some pills and ointment, and a week later the husky named Summit was back on the trails looking for more adventure with full sight in the eye.

For many years, each of the three clinics provided separate on-call services each night. They decided to combine their efforts about two years ago to save the vets some wear and tear.

"We thought maybe there was a better way to do this," said Dr. Joanne Rehn of All Creatures Veterinary Clinic. "It's hard to work a 10-hour day and be on call all night. Now we can give better service because we're not so tired out. It has worked very well as far as we're concerned."

At first, some clients were upset because they couldn't get treatment at their regular clinic. Rehn said that's understandable, although people who go to a hospital emergency room for treatment don't expect to see their regular physician.

People who have a pet emergency and call their vet clinic are routed to an answering service, which relays the caller's name and phone number to the on-duty vet at home. The vet calls to get general information about the injury, and to find out how long it will take for the animal to arrive at the clinic.

Rehn said there's a $90 emergency fee, or somewhat higher as the hour gets later, in addition to the cost of whatever procedure is performed, medicines and so on. The clinics accept virtually all smaller animals on an emergency basis but don't treat horses.

Most vets say it's a rare when they sleep throughout an on-call night without being summoned. Weekends are more active, although Rehn said they always anticipate at least one or two calls during week nights.

She emphasized that on-call vets can't do 24-hour monitoring for pets that are critically injured. That would be too tiring if they're back at work the next morning, she explained.

"We can come in and check on them, but we're not able to sit there with the animal like we would like to," Rehn said.

She estimates that 90 percent of the emergencies could have been avoided if the pets had been confined at home or kept on a leash by owners.

"Dogs get hit by cars, they get porcupine quills, gunshots, dog fights. All those things are preventable."

Tuomi of Palmer Veterinary Clinic said different seasons bring different problems. More dogs tangle with porcupines in the summer than winter, he said, and dogs tend to lap up more spilled anti-freeze in winter than summer. Injuries from gunshots or getting hit by cars happens year-round, he said.

Rehn, who has been a vet nearly 25 years, tries to find out all she can about the injury during the initial phone call with a client. That way she can be thinking about treatment strategies as she drives to the clinic.

It also may prevent someone from having to pay the emergency fee when it's clear to a vet the injury can wait until the next morning, Rehn said. She doesn't want pet owners to downplay the level of injury but she knows from experience that people sometimes get excited over something relatively minor.

It can be a tough call, she said.

"You never know. You may get a call where the person is totally freaked out, saying a bone is sticking out, and when you rush in here the dog is walking around in the parking lot."