pet connection

I don’t know how many times I can say this, but: I love my veterinarians. Especially my “primary-care” veterinarian, Dr. Bill.

How do I love him? Let me count the ways:

1) He’s brilliant. Before he went to veterinary school, he got an MBA and was a rising young executive at a Fortune 500 company. But he always wanted to be a veterinarian, so he and his wife talked it over, and he went back to school.

2) He’s good at what he does. He usually knows the answer, and isn’t afraid to say when he doesn’t. And when he doesn’t, he won’t sleep until he finds out. He’s the first to suggest a specialist when that’s indicated, and works with that specialist closely.

3) He’s open to new ideas. One of the other veterinarians I love practices “complementary care,” primarily accupuncture and Chinese herbal medicine. Dr. Bill works willingly and happily with her, too, even though he’s basically a Western med kinda guy.

4) He works harder than anyone I know. One time, I called at 5 p.m. just after two of my dogs collided over a tennis ball, leaving an open gash on the nose of one of them. Dr. Bill wouldn’t dream of turning the surgery over to an associate. He was there until 9 p.m. putting McKenzie’s nose back together. There’s not even a scar, and in truth, he saved her dog-show career.

5) He loves my animals. Sure, he loves all animals, but when my retrievers go in we can’t start the examination until after Dr. Bill has gotten down on the floor and rolled around with them, they’ve kissed him all over and knocked his glasses off at least once. And then he stands up, straightens his glasses and his lab coat and asks me why they’re in today.

6) He cries when we say good-bye to my pets. I can’t write more about this without crying, but there you have it. The man is in this because he loves animals and people both.

I have known Dr. Bill for 25 years, and he has always listened to me. (See Dr. Marty’s post: Dr. Bill believes in “Dr. Mom,” too!) Like today. I have an appointment at 4:30 for Woody, a minor ear gick, and discussion of getting young Woody’s hips, elbows, knees and more certified free of congenital defect. But there’s something not “right” about McKenzie today. She’s much quieter than normal, off her food and running a very low fever.

Fridays are busy, but when I called over to the veterinary hospital to see if Dr. B could see McKenzie, too, he said he would make time. Again, he could have pushed me off on one of his associates, or even assured me she was likely fine. But he knows I will not stop worrying until she’s seen. Even though it means, once again, that he won’t make it home in time for dinner.

He said to bring her in, too. Actually, he insisted I bring her in, too.

I love him.

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