Reflections on the aftermath of a spay
By Gina Spadafori
July 17, 2009
McKenzie wants to know if anyone got the license plate of the truck that hit her yesterday.
Actually, she’s home and doing fine after her spay and stomach tacking. She’s on pain meds, and she’ll be crated for the next week — as much to keep her puppy daughter from bothering her as to keep her from being active. She isn’t bothering her sutures and staples — it’s a big incision because of the additional procedure – so she doesn’t have to wear a cone unless that changes.
Now, I know a lot of people price-shop for veterinary services, especially for “routine” procedures such as a spay.
I don’t do that. I have found that when all my pets’ veterinary care is coordinated by one good — n0, great — veterinarian, not only is the care better but I also have some leeway on the working out payments in an emergency when times are tight (as they have been in the last year, with book sales sharply down industrywide).
There’s another reason I don’t do that in the case of a spay: It may be “routine” surgery, but it’s pretty major nonetheless.
Now, I have similar equipment to that found in my female cats and dogs, and enough familiarity with anatomy to know that a spay is not like a neuter. A neuter — castration, officially – is so simple I think if I had to even I could do one, although thank heavens I cannot imagine a situation where I would ever have to. I have known ranchers with working border collies who — gentlemen, skip forward to the next paragraph — band their dogs’ testicles so they atrophy and drop off. (Which is what they do with the lambs, by the way.)
But a spay is an oviohysterectomy. You gotta go in.
Since I opted for a gastropexy (the aforementioned stomach tacking) at the same time, my veterinarian asked me allow him to hand off to a boarded surgeon who has done a great many of the stomach procedures. I like this best about my primarly-care veterinarian: When there’s something he thinks a specialist could do better or help with, he asks me if I’m OK with a second opinion or a hand-off. And yes, I always am.
The surgeon, Dr. Robert Runyon, is particularly fond of McKenzie in a perverse way because she is one of his most vexing foxtail cases. For those who don’t live with foxtails, say a prayer of thanks: They are as evil as ticks, although only a fraction as disgusting.
A couple years ago McKenzie picked up a foxtail that burrowed into her side and then proceeded on a rambling, destructive tour of her abdominal cavity. She had three surgeries to try to get the thing out, and it never came out completely, as part of it is walled off — permanently, we hope — in the flap of skin between her leg and her body.
McKenzie’s foxtail is Dr. Runyon’s Moby Dick.
I’m sure while he was expertly removing McKenzie girly bits, tacking her stomach and tucking in the little hernia she has had since birth, he secretly felt for the little pocket with the &*@*%~! foxtail in it, and shook his head in resignation. Damn you, foxtail!
No, it’s not bothering her now, but you know surgeons: They want perfect outcomes, every time.
As do I, which is why I never treat a spay as routine, and I never vet-shop to put my pets in the hands of someone I don’t know.
Yoda, Griffith, and I are thinking good thoughts for McKenzie as she recuperates.
Griffith is scheduled to go under the knife himself next week. But as you point out, a neuter is a far less invasive affair.
I’m really hopeful that a safe chemical sterilant is not too far off in the future. It seems archaic to have to surgically remove organs to prevent reproduction.
Comment by Jennifer Fearing — July 17, 2009 @ 2:42 pm
Poor McKenzie, abdominal surgery, no matter how routine, hurts! ( I speak from personal experience. And I am amazed at how stoic dogs can be)
One of my boys had exploratory surgery on Monday. Turns out everything is OK, but boy oh boy is he sore. :(
As for nasssty foxtails, about ten years back I had an 18 month old bulldog apparently ingest one. The thinking is, it got stuck up between her gums and cheek and went right into those nice soft mucus membranes.
At first we thought it was a blocked salivary gland, which was drained and that’s when my vet found part of the foxtail. All looked OK, we hoped that that was all there was.
Poor Ursula ended up knocked out 4 times over a 3 month period. The last time, I returned to pick her up to a gleeful vet who had opened up her latest “hot zone” and reached in blind past assorted vital structures to pull out, by luck, most of a foxtail. I still have it in a jar somewhere.
Years later, I awoke to find her looking like a hamster with one cheek pouch full, apparently “most” of a foxtail is not always enough. The spot was drained again, no sign of the foxtail bits. It happened again perhaps six months later, again no sign of the offender but it did not recur again. My vet still gets a peculiar look on his face if I mention Ursula’s foxtail.
Comment by JenniferJ — July 17, 2009 @ 2:50 pm
I wonder how many veterinarians have foxtails haunting their nightmares?
Comment by Gina Spadafori — July 17, 2009 @ 3:11 pm
I was astonished at the evilness of the little bastards when we visited NoCal with our SAR dogs.
I usually play tiny violins when SAR handlers from different parts of the country whine about their particular inimical flora. I’ll see your kudzu and raise you a stripmine solid with multiflora rose, beyotch!
But the handlers in the CARDA training groups we played with have my everlasting respect for coping with murderous foxtails and the mutant poison oak that hangs out at face level everywhere.
Comment by H. Houlahan — July 17, 2009 @ 3:33 pm
California is a Garden of Eden, a paradise to live in or see … but believe it or not, you won’t find it so hot, if it’s foxtails your dog will pee.
Comment by Gina Spadafori — July 17, 2009 @ 3:40 pm
Hope she recovers nicely. Just keep in mind though few humans and animals if any go to the doctor because they get pleasure from it.
Comment by Steve — July 17, 2009 @ 3:53 pm
Sending healing thoughts to McKenzie!
And of course, this brings up another BIG reason why mandatory spay/neuter is so evil - although they are frequently done they are not “routine” - these ARE major, potentially dangerous and very painful surgeries (although castration is a lot less invasive than an ovariohysterectomy, I doubt you will agree that it’s a very painful procedure) and no one should ever be forced to have them done on a pet against the owner’s better judgment.
And I’m glad you talked about price shopping. Having a good relationship with a vet you trust will not only result in better care, but will usually save you money in the long run.
Comment by Barb — July 17, 2009 @ 5:00 pm
I suspect foxtails haunt many a dream!
When it rains it pours, I am going to be running a rehab facility here it seems. My heart worm infected dog is leaving for a few days for a second round of adulticide, and I am getting a sweet older boy who was found wandering with bilateral CCL ruptures. They have now been repaired and he’s coming here to recover.
His arrival means three dogs (two fosters and one of my own) recovering from surgery here, oy!
Comment by JenniferJ — July 17, 2009 @ 6:53 pm