\”Gday Doc, how ya goin?\” – I was till half asleep, the phone had jolted me awake in the early morning, deliciously cool. \”The silly old bastard\’s been fighting again, he\’s a hell of a mess, eh. Can you come out and fix him up again?\”
\”Is there a bitch in heat there again, is there?\” I asked.
\”You got it Doc, same as the last two times – I swear I\’m gonna shoot that bloody dog next time if they don\’t get her desexed…\”
\”Ok- I\’m pretty quiet today, so I\’ll come out and see you first thing.\”
I got up, started making breakfast, gave a holler to my son to get him moving and ready for school. The sun was just coming up over the hill, and the early morning cool had vanished like a beautiful dream. It was going to be a good old Townsville stinker of a day. Before too long, and without more than twenty or so hurry ups for my young fellow, we were on the road – a quick fly by the school to drop him in and wave him through the gate, then winding my way out to the highway south. South through the brown, dry, heat hazed summers day, with the aircon up as high as it would go.
Then turning off to my left, and winding through a few low hills, out to the coast. At the end of the road lay a gated community, which was where the dog was waiting for me. His owner was waiting at the gate, which he then unlocked, and waved me in. I followed him along a narrow, bumpy bitumen strip, past a series of old beach shacks interspersed with newer homes. We pulled up t their house, and I grabbed my stethoscope and bag.
We went in through the gate, and under the house, sprawled out on an old blanket, was my patient. I\’d patched him a couple of times before- the dogs pretty much roamed as they wished out here, and every time a bitch came into season, there\’d be a huge dog fight as all the entire males worked out who was going to be the one. This old stager didn\’t realise that he was simply too old and arthritic to get into fights any more, but he wouldn\’t take a backwards step. So he got chewed to pieces. He managed to lift his head a little when I came over and squatted down to look at him, and thumped his tail in a tired old wag three or four times. He was a mess – covered in dirt, and with tow legs swollen and deeply chewed, not to mention bites all around his head and neck.
\”Jeez,\” I said. \”He\’s a hell of a mess this time, isn\’t he?\”
\”Yep,\” said his dad, with a worried shake of his head. \”Do you think it\’s worth trying to save him?\”
He couldn\’t look at me, and I knew how much he loved this big old pig dog.
\”Lets get him up, out on the lawn, hose him off, get him cleaned up, give him some pain relief, get him onto some antibiotics, and give it a go,\” I told him, and I could see him relax a bit as I spoke. \”You\’ll have to hand feed him, and get plenty of water into him every hour or so, and we\’ll see how he goes. He\’ll probably be awful for two days, then start to perk up a bit.\”
\”Ok, I can do that,\” he said.
Between us, we got him up on his feet, and took him very slowly out onto the lawn. I got his dad to hold him up, and I gently hosed off the dirt, and gently washed off the caked blood. It was all puncture wounds, thankfully no tears that needed stitching up. after I\’d cleaned all the wounds on both fron legs and around his head and neck, I ran the stream of cool water over the wounds.
\”I\’ll get you to do this twice a day, too,\” I explained to him. \”It\’s an old bush vetting trick we used to use with our horses when they got bad wounds. The cold water helps a lot- gets the swelling down, and stimulates the wound to heal quicker as well. You\’ll probably need two of you to do it though.\”
\”No wuzzers, eh – I can get me missus to hose while I hold him up,\” he said. \”It\’s a bugger out here with all these bloody dogs – I just left the gate open for a moment while I grabbed something out of me truck last night, and the old bastard was gone like a rat up a drain pipe – and he wouldn\’t come back when I called him. Then I heard the fight about 4:oo this morning, and I found him here first thing.\”
We eased him back under the house and onto his bed, and I gave him an antibiotic and pain relief injection, before going out to my van and measuring out all of the antibiotics and anti-inflammatories he needed. I came in and sat down, writing up my notes and labels, explaining what he needed to do. Then I worked out a time to recheck him in two days, and headed back into town.
———
Two days later:
I walked in the gate, and blow me down, the old fellow heaved himself up off the bed and limped over to greet me, with his tail thrashing happily. His wounds were so much better, and he looked a whole lot happier.