2 weeks Ago
There is so, so much to be learned. Owner’s demeanour: happy/sad/worried/carefree/grimacing. Dog’s gait and attitude: lively/lame/reluctant/aggressive.
Weight and condition of cat basket. And so on. Thus, it was with dismay that I stood and winced as Mrs Brown slowly, painfully, unsteadily rose to her feet.
The process of becoming upright was so prolonged that I was able to remember that I had been treating this lady’s pets for nearly 40 years. When I first met her, she was an incredibly lithe 40-year-old PE teacher; physically very capable, but years of running, playing hockey, blowing her whistle and jumping up and down on the side-lines had most obviously taken their toll. As she struggled, her elderly black Lab, ‘Umpire’, lay sleepily, seemingly disinterested, at her feet.
Finally, as I was making strides towards her to help, she shook her head in admonishment at my intention, and gathered her strength for one last heave, before she made her way warily to me. At this, the old boy rose and pottered in at her side, keeping gentle contact with her left leg as they walked. Pleasantries over, I asked what I could do for her and she replied, without a hint of irony, that she was worried that the old boy was stiffening up and might need something to ‘help him along’.
Apparently he could barely break into a trot, and he spent most of his time warming himself at her feet. Recognising that many tough old Labradors are remarkably adept at hiding arthritic pain, and are only presented for treatment when degenerative joint disease is advanced, I gave him a good going over. From toes to shoulders, hock to hip, every joint was flexed and extended to the limit of its movement.
Each limb was thoroughly palpated. Every individual ligament was tested for laxity or discomfort. His muscle groups were measured and compared to assess for the dissymmetry that would indicate a subtle decreased use of one side or another.
I could find nothing. There was no tell-tale pain; there was no resentment, no whining, no smacking of the lips or yawning. There was no restriction in movement.
No stiffness in any joint. He was as healthy a specimen of 12-year-old Lab as I had ever encountered. I was flummoxed.
Smiling at Mrs Brown, I suggested I check out his weight and took the lead from her hand, prompting Umpire to rise reluctantly from his position adjacent to her and follow me out the door. Once out in the corridor, he was transformed and bounded around happily. The penny dropped! Mrs Brown’s neighbour took him on a long daily walk, letting him chase a ball and blow off steam, leaving him refreshed and able to resume his faithful, calm, undemanding position at his diminished elderly mistress’s side.
How do they know?.
