Luna rests in a familiar place. Her friends are waiting inside to see her!
The Animal Surgical Clinic of Seattle, where Luna’s TPLO surgery was performed on her right rear knee just over three months ago, has become a familiar place to us. We have been here more than a dozen times, counting the pre-surgery consultation, the surgery, post-surgery check-ups, and rehab in the dog-sized aquarium.
Have you ever had the feeling that you have stumbled upon a business or organization that right now, at this particular moment, is operating ”at the top of its game”—that things “click into place” with an almost audible “snap” there? That’s how I feel about this clinic.
A place we have grown to know and love: A super-great clinic with wonderful providers.
Staff at the front desk, including the ancient lab gazing serenely from his pillow, is “dialed-in” to the needs of patients and their owners. The veterinary surgeon, Russell Patterson VMD, in our case, and the rehabilitation veterinary, Kari Johnson DVM, are spectacular care providers—efficient, effective, emotionally intelligent, and clearly “animal people” if not full-blown “animal whisperers.”
In the exam room now. Waiting with pleasant anticipation for the vet to arrive.
We have been in good, perhaps the best, hands. Which turned out to be important. Luna’s post-surgery recovery was difficult. More about that in a future post.
About this visit on November 1, 2012, the final post-TPLO check-in: Dr. Patterson observed Luna walk, asked me some questions, and pronounced Luna now free to run, play, do whatever activity she would like to do.
He recommended longer walks and losing more weight: “Little changes make a difference: a
mounded cup of dog food versus a flat cup can quickly lead to weight gain.” (So true.)
A yellow lab observes all from a photo on the wall of the exam room: A reassuring presence.
Next Dr. Johnson arrived: “Luna! You are doing great! Look at you standing so well!” Followed by, “Oh! I should greet the owner first,” extending her hand with a big smile. Distracting Luna with a biscuit,. Dr. Johnson injected, seemingly painlessly, Adequan into Luna’s scruff. (Adequan is a kind of a super glucosamine-chondroitin supplement to “support” her joint function.)
In February, 2013, we will check back with Dr. Johnson, just to make sure Luna has continued to grow stronger and thinner. (We’ve got to increase the exercise and reduce the calorie intake, girlfriend.) Until then, we will visit once a month for an Adequan injection and to step on the scale in the lobby.
Great job, Luna!
My questions: What makes some vets (and other people) better at “talking” to their patients? Do they do something different? Are they themselves, at their core, somehow “different”?
What do you think?