Last weekend was pretty packed and I’ve resisted posting about our adventures at the vet because I wanted to spare you the pictures (read on and you’ll know what I mean). But here it is nonetheless, sans gory pictures. It’s been a busy week catching up on my MOOCS (another post on that) ergo the delayed post.
International Coastal Clean Up Day.
If you don’t live on the coast then you probably would not have heard of International coastal clean up day on 15th Sept. The Navy officers, sailors and their families got together along with the public to clean up Vizag’s beaches and coastlines. So at 7 am we headed off to our designated clean up spot in the dockyard near the main shipping channel and what I surmised was that if this country banned pan/gutka packets and Parle G biscuits, we’d have a much cleaner coastline. As the sun beat down on us (after 3 weeks of rain and cloud) I was so glad we weren’t on the beach but in the sheltered dockyard area instead. Our efforts were rewarded with a hearty breakfast of idlis, vadas, samosas, sambar, chutneys, a Frooti and a hot cup of tea. Smashing way to start the day….which put us straight to bed for the rest of the day!
Little boy at the window
As we headed in to town for our monthly visit to stock up on provisions, we vowed never to come to town again for at least another couple of months till the roads recover from the devastating rains that have ripped up the poor quality roads in this chaotic cess pool of mediocrity that the authorities dare to call “The City of Destiny” – that’s my Vizag rant for the week.
We shopped for birthday presents for the DH’s sister’s kids at Mighty Brain Toys on Waltair Road, filled with great toys for kids (and adults, as the DH was tugging at my hip to buy him an RC Helicopter). They always have interesting wind up toys at the cash counter and we always ended up playing with them or racing them, then realising that little children and adults are staring at us. As we left the store we saw a street kid, fairly well dressed but without any shoes with his face mashed up against the glass wall of the shop. In a heartbeat we were back in the shop and came out with one of those wind up toys. As the DH gave it to him and showed him how it worked I saw the kid’s jaw literally drop and his mouth stay open till after we were in the car. Finally we saw him skipping and running down the street, new toy in hand, beaming from ear to ear. That scene of the kid peering in to the shop reminded us of Charlie and the Chocolate Factory where all the Golden Tickets went to spoiled rich bratty children and Charlie had money to only buy two chocolate bars while the other kids had money to buy many many more and increase their odds of finding a hidden Golden Ticket. The DH will more willingly buy a gift for a poor kid who he does not know and who he’ll never see again than for a family member – tough love I guess.
HQ orders Surgical Strike on nether regions
Sunday saw us bright and early at the vet’s office. Abroozi was “getting fixed”, “losing his marbles”, retiring the cannons”, “dropping a load”. The operation that all males dread. He was due to be “stripped of his manhood”. Every mating season it’s been getting terribly difficult to control him. He doesn’t eat for 4 weeks, loses a ridiculous amount of weight, whines and pulls on the walk, his brain is totally scrambled, does not respond to us at all and both the DH and I have pulled shoulders and spines trying to take him on a walk. It’s not his fault – it’s just nature doing its thing. Like most Indian households, we live in an area where stray dogs roam so one cannot control which female dogs decide to camp near your house when in heat. I’ve been pushing to get him neutered for over a year but both my father ( a Urologist who has had to operate on many a human testicle) and the DH have been reluctant. In humans removing the testes can lead to cancers but from what vets say, it’s the opposite in dogs – it can reduce the risks of prostate and testicular cancer and a lot of other medical issues. I think the DH also realised this season just how bad it was and gave in. But he assured me that no man can ever fully give his consent to taking another man’s jewels. As soon as approval from HQ was authorised, I scheduled the procedure.
Abroozi was weighed (a perfect 35 kgs) and then given a pre-anesthetic to sedate him. It is odd to see ones pet sedated – wobbly, breathing slowly, their tongue and gums go from pink to blue and then they fall in to a very very deep sleep. But before they fall asleep, in the pre-anesthetic stage the area in question is shaved, the vein in the leg located for the IV injection of the main anesthetic. There’s a lot of propping them up on tables, taking the dog off the table then pushing him towards the surgery table, then lifting him on to the table. You need a good back and two people for this.
I sat in on the surgery, stroking his head throughout but the DH felt too queesy to stay. Perhaps my father’s surgical genes reside (dormant) in me and I have quite a strong stomach for this sort of stuff. The vet was trying to explain and show me what he was doing at each step of the way, ligating the tubes etc but to me it all looked like blood and guts. I couldn’t make out a thing and I have a renewed respect for surgeons like my father who perform complex 9hr (and longer) transplants and reconstructions.
The vet didn’t want to sedate Abroozi more than was necessary so he was given a light dose of Ketamin (I think) through an IV injection. Essentially the sedative immobilises the limbs. In true Indian style, there was no electricity, we were running on an inverter and we had to keep the door of the theatre open to let some cool air in. Midway through the operation, a puppy came in for his consultation at the clinic. On hearing the puppy whining Abroozi slowly started waking up. The vet quickly gave him another dose of the sedative to knock him out again. Apparently they respond to sound, even though they can’t move their limbs. It’s not the “come in to the light” they see but the sound they hear. So you should never call your pets name or talk to him during the surgery while he’s sedated. He was never in any pain but the sound of another dog dragged him out of his deep slumber.
The surgery took about 20 to 25 minutes and the vet had kept the two testicles in a petri-dish 9which looked like two large human eyeballs to me, in case you were curious). The DH came back in to the theatre after the surgery as Abroozi was waking up. The vet reaches round and just happens to show the DH the petri dish, saying“These are the testicles.” The DH nearly dropped to the floor. The one thing he’d been trying to avoid and the vet just showed it to him! As the blood drained from this mighty macho Commander he managed to squeak out, “I didn’t need to see that, Doctor.” I could tell that the vet was really enjoying himself.
That’s the Korula family (last) weekend round up.