VN November 2021

Vetnews | November 2021 49 IS IT EVEROKTOLIE? Jack was a teenager who doted on his special mare. He was part of a family that was going through a rough patch. His older sister had recently died tragically in a car crash. The family was devastated, and Jack sought solace in turning all his attention onto Rosy.His father, no- nonsense John, called me that Friday night. A problem with the mare. A serious problem, colic. It had not responded to the usual mild anti- spasmodic injections they had given her, which was“getting bad”. I arrived at their farm at about ten o’clock. I saw her condition was indeed severe. Rosy was flinging herself violently to the ground and rolling and thrashing on the big lawn behind the kitchen. The bony parts of her head were raw. Her colic was critically, seriously, bad. The family members were understandably stunned. While I went through the examination routine, Jack was sobbing and coaxing his beloved horse. Sue, his mother, was fretting and fussing and speaking sharply to everyone, demanding me to immediately make a diagnosis and relieve the animal of the awful pain. John was on the periphery, saying “dammit” frequently and walking in and out of the house, frustrated that this was a situation out of his control. The fourth member of their tragic family circle was little Alice, who had grown up in the shadow of her older sister and who had always worshipped Jack. She trotted at her big brother’s side when he walked themare, but he wasn’t interested in her consoling chatter. In fact, he snapped at her a few times. “It’s all your fault, Alice, and you left the meal-room door open, so she gorged herself on the mealies, didn’t you!” It’s a human thing to attack when desperation and panic take over, and although I understood the situation, it still was a harsh accusation. “No, no, I didn’t, Jack, I promise! It couldn’t be that, could it, Doctor Peter?”she looked pleadingly at me as I approached with a syringe full of a potent drug. “Of course not, Alice,” I reassured her. “Jack, hold her steady while I bung this into her vein, please.”But the drug had minimal effect; within minutes, she again flung herself to the ground and writhed. Their mother immediately shouted at us not to let the horse roll because it wouldcauseatwistedgut!Itwasuselessremonstrating;theatmosphere was heated. “John, pleasewouldyouarrangeabox toget her to the specialist equine vets for surgery. I’ll set up a drip.”I tried to sound calmand controlled. He disappeared into the house, and I continued to busy myself with essentially useless actions. My rectal palpation surprisingly revealed both caecum and colon to be in their proper places. I told the family that a loop of the small intestinemight have become strangulated. The night dragged on; John was drawing a blank with every call he made. No available transport to take her to the specialists was available. All my medications seemed useless. She began to die a while after midnight. “Jack, you really love Rosy, so you don’t want her to suffer anymore. The kindest thing is going to be to end this awful agony. Let me give her the injection so she cango to the horsey heaven.”Everyone, except for Alice, agreed. Rosy took a last deep breath and drifted off with Jack stroking her cheek… A big rough farmer hand grasped my shoulder. “I’m sorry you’ve been put through all of this Pete. But you do understand, don’t you, everything being what it has been…?” I returned to the farmearly in themorning, unannounced. Johnmetme at the back door. “I’m sorry to pitch like this, John, but for all of our sakes, we must know the exact cause of her colic.” Thechestnut’sbodyhadbeen laid inadeepquarry, so I scrambleddown with the autopsy kit. The family stood on the edge of the pit, peering down at me as I opened her abdomen and began the investigation. Most of what I was doing was hidden from their sight by my body leaning over the corpse. Just as well, for after a while, I straightened up and stretched my back. Then I scrambled up to them. “OK, absolutely nothing we, or anyone else for that matter, could have done for her,” I announced solemnly. “Acute toxic haemorrhagic enteritis,” I spoke slowly and convincingly. “It’s caused by a clostridial overgrowth like sheep get pulpy kidney. Just one of those things.” Nobody had noticed the mealie pips that I’d wiped from the knife, let alone the vast quantity that had poured fromher ruptured stomach. Vets are respected for our integrity. But just sometimes, it’s okay to lie. (Names have been changed for obvious reasons.) v Life plus 22 without parole Tod Collins Dr Tod Collins is the locum for this column in the absence of Dr Mike Lowry In this column, he shares his experiences and opinions . Regulars I Life plus 22 Photo provided