Sunday, August 24, 2014

Pet hoarding and why it makes good pet care so difficult (and expensive)

One day I made a home visit to vaccinate a healthy dog.  When I parked in front of my client’s home, I noticed all the empty cat litter boxes stacked in her garage. I started thinking: am I sure she wanted her dog vaccinated?

Once she opened the door I had to ask if I was here to vaccinate her dog because all I could see were cats. I’d walked into her small bungalow and there were cats everywhere. 34 to be exact but that doesn’t count the 4 in her bedroom (that don’t get along with the others) or the 5 on the enclosed back porch (which are relatively new arrivals). I had to start petting them because these were very friendly cats. Each level of the cat tree was occupied; four more cats were scattered across the living room sofa. Each dining room chair was occupied by 1 or 2 felines. Everyone was happy and if I got close enough, the heads swayed my way for rubbing and caressing. No one could get enough attention.

The litter boxes were relatively clean and filled the end of the dining room. There was plenty of food left in the bowls I could see. (I’d have to give her my advice about this later.) It was kind of fun to be surrounded by all these cats that each wanted all your attention, but where was the dog?

The dog was confined in a small second bedroom. My client explained that the elderly neighbors had both gone to the hospital and left the dog behind. Now, she had found out that they weren’t coming back. But the dog was fine with the cats, and the cats weren’t afraid of the dog but she didn’t trust them together (yet?)
As we looked over the dog and talked, it looked like he was getting the short end of the stick. Yes, he had a loving home but he was confined to a small spare bedroom. Periodically he was led out to the back yard where he spent some time, but there were no walks, minimal exercise and not a lot of stimulation.

This was a very busy woman and she was doing the best she could with all these pets, but Bosco was a very nice dog, and he belonged in a new home where he would get more attention and stimulation.
The cats seemed to be doing well with the exception of one who had lost a lot of weight and was not responding well to treatment after his diagnosis of diabetes. If you read my posts on the importance of limit feeding your pets and how to treat the diabetic cat, you will understand how complicated this 43 cat household becomes. How do I know who is eating and who is not? How do I feed the most appropriate diet as well as the right amount to each cat? It can be done, but it’s not easy and is very time consuming (as if any home with 43 cats wouldn’t be time consuming). I had had a client in St. Louis who managed quite well with her 24 cats. At meal time (twice each day), each feline knew to go to his or her food bowl and wait for their particular diet. With 24 cats of various ages and needs, there were 4 different diets spread between these cats.  

Ultimately the couple got divorced but had to continue to live together because where can you move and take 12 cats?

Most of us don’t have the time, energy or finances to take care of this many cats. It’s hard to say no to each additional cat that needs a good home, but you have to be fair to yourself as well as the cats. Also, the more cats in one household the more likely behavioral problems (such as urine marking) and even fighting will result. 

As far as Bosco: There was food sitting in his bowl and he exercise was limited to visits to the back yard a few times each day. If patterns didn’t change he would continue to put on weight and ultimately suffer all the side effects of too much food and too little exercise. Unfortunately, this kind woman had a bad knee and couldn’t walk this big dog. My recommendation was to find a new home for the dog. Until that happened, I suggested feeding a precise premeasured amount of a light diet twice daily, and when possible, going out into the yard with the dog and throwing a ball for him to encourage more exercise and activity.


Wednesday, August 6, 2014

When can I no longer postpone the inevitable euthanasia?

Ten days ago, while my wife and I were driving our small motor-home through the Superstition Mountains in Arizona, “Debby” called to request a home visit to euthanize her 13 year old dog. She explained Sunny was having more and more trouble getting around and that she and her husband had finally agreed this was the time. He was taking Tramadol which helped some, but he was an old, arthritic dog and he had had a long, good life. I explained that I wouldn’t be back for another week and we set up an evening appointment for the day after I planned to return.  I asked Debby to leave a brief message on my home phone with her address and said I would call once we were in town. A few days later she called again. Her husband wanted to wait until after the weekend and we postponed the visit till the following Monday. I was surprised that once we returned to Tucson, there was no phone message. I thought maybe they’d changed their minds or decided not to wait so I called to check. She apologized; she thought she had called and left a message. What bothered me most about this exchange of phone calls was the obvious lack of urgency. Typically, if I am traveling and someone needs their pet put to sleep, they can’t wait a week for me to return. They simply call someone else. Something about this house call wasn’t quite right, but we set up a date and time, and I headed to her home on Monday morning.
When I’m greeted by a bunch of pets wagging their tails, I always assume (and pray) that the pet I’m here to see is not waiting at the door with everyone else, but instead, painfully confined to a comfortable bed in another part of the house. I should never have to wonder, “Am I putting to sleep one of these?” When I’m going to someone’s home to euthanize their pet, I want to walk in the door and easily recognize the pet that will be much more comfortable once I’ve done my job. He is ready to go to sleep and will appreciate this final rest.
Once Debbie had identified the biggest (and slowest) greeter as Sunny, I gently petted this old dog and tried to visually evaluate him before carefully asking, “Do you want me to first examine him and then we can talk about what we might be able to do to make him more comfortable so he can spend some more time with you? Or, have you and your husband already made up your minds that this is what you want to do?”
With no hesitation she responded. “We’ve had this big dog for 13 years and it is time. My husband said goodbye to Sunny when he left for work and for days we have been preparing ourselves for what we know needs to be done. Let’s get it over with.”
Her estimate of Sunny’s weight seemed pretty accurate and I asked when the vet had last weighed her. Most people aren’t good at guessing their pet’s weight and can’t easily weigh an 80 pound dog in their own home.
“I just guessed his weight because my son’s dog is almost as big and he was just at the vet. Sunny hasn’t been at the vet since we got him from the Humane Society.”
I innocently asked when that was. “That was when we got him 13 years ago.”
I always ask if the pet owner has seen this done before. Most have, but I still go through the procedure step by step so that they will know exactly what to expect. Debbie made it clear that she and her husband had already talked about this quite a bit and they wanted no further discussion. Once Sunny was resting comfortably on his bed, I placed a tourniquet on his leg and put him to sleep.