I pulled up in the driveway, just another brick box in the endless dusty suburbia of Brownsville, steaming and shimmering under the merciless summer sun. The air con in my van was pumping, managing to keep me sort of cool. I steeled myself to open the door and step out into the thick, gluggy air. As soon as I did, every sweat gland in my body kicked into overdrive, and I could feel myself start wilting like a cut flower left without water. A little old man waved to me from the shade of the car port.
\”G\’day Doc,\” he called out, a big grin on his face. \”Glad you could make it!\”
I grabbed my bag, and got into the shade as quick as I could. He stuck his hand out, and I shuffled my bag to my other hand so I could take it. I was fixed with merry, bright eyes, and my hand firmly shaken.
\”I\’m so happy you could come around,\” he said. \”She just needs a checkup, but she\’s a bit of a handful at the vet hospital, she gets a bit excited, you know. She\’s tied up down the back, because I worry about her slipping out the gate. If she does, it\’s a hell of a trouble to damn well catch her again, I can tell you!\”
He was about 5 foot 5, a skinny little guy, and old, his face worn and marked with long days in the sun, wrinkles mapped into a ready smile. He had an infectious positivity. I could see that he had some aches and pains by how he moved, but there was no way he would let anything like that stop him from enjoying life. He led me briskly down the yard, and there was his dog. She was a big crossbred, and completely nutty. I\’d say she weighed well over 30 kg, and immediately started trying to jump all over me.
He waded in and grabbed her by the collar (she took little notice, and mostly dragged him around with her.) \”Let me help you, Doc, she can be a bit of a handful, but I\’ve got her number, don\’t you worry about that!\” I was at a loss of what to say. I could handle her quite happily by my self, but I didn\’t want to hurt the old fella\’s feelings, either. So I kept on wrestling my way through the exam. She was rudely healthy, if a bit overweight, and the only real thing of note was a lump that he pointed out to me.
\”I\’m worried about this damn lump!\” he told me. \”She\’s had it for a long while, and it doesn\’t seem to be growing, but I\’d like it checked out.\”
I had a good feel of it; loose under the skin, fairly soft to palpate… \”If I had to take a guess, I\’d say it\’s probably nothing to worry about,\” I said. \”It\’s static, and it feels like a lipoma. I can do a fine needle biopsy if you like – I collect a little bit of the lump tissue with a fine needle, then I put it on a slide. If it\’s a lipoma, I can tell you with about 95% certainty just looking at it grossly\”
\”I\’d like you to do that, Doc,\” he said, seriously. \”You can\’t be too safe with these things.\”
I went back into the searing sun, and collected what I needed. Syringe, needle, microscope slides, and back into the dog. She had calmed down a bit by now. She really was a lovely dog, but perhaps not the best match for such an old couple. We laid her down, and I carefully aspirated the lump by sticking the needle in, and gently sucking back on the syringe. Then I took the needle off, filled the syringe with air, put it back on, and squeezed it out onto the slide. A couple of drops of clear, oily liquid was the result, no sign of any opaque tissue cells. The old man watched me carefully, every step of the way.
\”Have a look at this,\” I said. \”You can see that it just looks like a couple of drops of clear liquid, so it\’s nearly certain that it\’s only a benign fatty lump.\”
\”That\’s great news, Doc, a real weight off my mind! You done with her now? If you have, come up on the deck for a cool drink and finish up.\”
\”That would be lovely. Do you want to let her off?\”
\”Aw I dunno, Doc, she\’ll jump all over you,\” he said.
\”She\’ll be fine, I can handle her,\” I told him.
So he let her off, and I had to have a small chat to her about respect for personal space. Then she went bounding around the yard, tail lashing with joy.
\”She is a bit full on, isn\’t she?\” I asked him, with a smile, as we walked over to the back verandah.
\”Oh, she\’s not so bad… I take her for a walk every day, and I have to keep my wits about me, I tell you. She wants to take off if she sees another dog, but she loves going out for a walk, and it\’s good for me, too.\”
We sat down, and he got me a cold glass of water. I chatted to him about his life as I wrote up my notes. Turned out he had been a horse trainer for years, and was now retired, well into his eighties. One of the spryest, most lively, happy and active old men I have ever met. I saw him regularly after that, every 6 months or so, as he took the best care of his crazy dog. I\’d always pull up to a wave, and \”G\’day Doc, lovely to see you again!\” He is one of the clients I miss most. Wise old fella!