We are being told by authorities in government and the media that the worldwide occurrences of bird and fish die offs are normal, however I feel that they are worrisome to say the least: I can’t believe so many deaths in so short a period can be normal. Especially when the reasons that have been provided by experts in several of these cases just sound incredibly weak. Birds flying too high, fireworks, water too cold, water too warm, etc.
Not included in this list is the recent incident of 200 cattle dying in Wisconsin. In that case, veterinarians attributed their demise to a pathogen causing pneumonia, killing them over a period of three days, probably so if they were being raised in a feedlot. None-the-less, it may be worthwhile to keep our eyes open on this.
This is a global phenomenon and I fear it’s not over yet.
The current list:
1.
-70 Mexican Free-tailed bats found dead on a walking path underneath a bridge in Tucson, Arizona. Officials claim that these bats should have migrated to Mexico.
-500 Dead penguins in New Zealand, has been going on since beginning of December.
-150 tons of red tilapia found dead in Vietnam on 41 separate river farms.
-100 pelicans die in North Carolina. (occurred on different days in December)
2. Friday, December 31st, 2010:-5,000 dead red-winged blackbirds fall from the sky in a square-mile area in Beebe, Arkansas.
3. Saturday, January 1st, 2011: -100,000 dead drum fish washed up along the shore of the Arkansas River.
4. Monday, January 3rd, 2011: -500 more birds in a square-mile stretch along a highway in Labarre, Louisiana.
5. Tuesday, January 4th, 2011:-100 shad fish dead, supposedly of a temperature shock, in Ontario, Canada.
6. Wednesday, January 5th, 2011: -2,000,000 juvenile spot fish, dead, along the shore of the Chesapeake Bay, Maryland.
-100 jackdaws found dead in the Falkoping, Sweden.
-100 snapperfish found mysteriously dead, many with missing eyes, along a beach in New Zealand. Officials claim fish died of cold, but residents say the fish looked fat and healthy.
-40,000 'devil' (velvet) swimming crabs found dead on a beach in the UK. And among that, there's dead lobster, anemone, starfish, sponges, etc.
7. Friday, January 7th, 2011:- 8,000 turtle doves fall from the sky in Faenza, Italy. Mysteriously, these birds have blue stains on their beaks. Lab tests show the stain was either caused by poisoning or high-altitude flying causing a lack of oxygen called hypoxia.
-100 dead starfish washed ashore on Folly Beach, South Carolina.
8. Saturday, January 8th, 2011:-100 birds found dead, clustered on the ground in Sonoma County, California.
9. Tuesday, January 11th, 2011:- 1000+ gizzard shad, dead along a Chicago lakefront within a 5 inch range, being eaten by Canada geese and mallard ducks. Experts claim it is bizarre and abnormal, because Canada geese and mallard ducks don't usually eat fish-so why dead ones. An expert also claims that both of these animals are, however, "opportunistic".
As of January 11th, 2011: OVER 2,155,570 animals have died, mysteriously, in a matter of 12 days! Surely, this is cause for concern.
Monday, January 24, 2011
Saturday, January 1, 2011
A Christmas to Remember and a Warning: Bad to the Bone
Christmas Eve, and we were expecting eleven friends and family for the holiday festivities. Decorations up, a sparkling tree bolstered by gifts spreading out across the floor, garlands wound from floor to ceiling.
To keep Kaspar and Rutgar from underfoot and barking every time someone came to the door, they were given their annual Christmas raw beef bones. In the confusion of last minute preparations and greeting guest, we had not noticed how much of his bone Rutgar had consumed.
I usually take the bones away after 15 minutes to half an hour and discard them and I usually only give them the occasional large knucklebone. This year, however, I was so busy that it wasn’t me who chose their bones and Mr. Rutgar got a bone that he was able to chew off chunks and swallow.
Christmas morning, stockings distributed me and my hubby snuggled under the covers, eager to see what ‘Santa’ had filled our stockings with. I invited Rutgar to hop up on the bed as he usually does on these cold winter mornings while we have our first cups of coffee. I looked down beside the bed where he was huddled, looking pitifully up at me. I had a sinking feeling. I could tell he was in some kind of distress. I reached down and picked him up. He was trembling in pain. He’s had the occasional tummy ache, but this looked more serious. I wondered if he had somehow gotten a piece of chocolate or some other forbidden delicacy. Then I remembered, the bone… I had taken it away from him but as I thought about it, I realized that when I did, it was a lot smaller than when I had first seen it.
I watched him for a little while longer and realized he needed professional help and fast. I called the vet’s emergency line. “Get here fast,” he said. “Can you be here in 20 minutes?”
The family was getting ready for breakfast followed by the ritual gift exchange. “Sorry everyone, but we have to get to the vet right away. Just go on without us and we’ll get back as soon as we can,” I implored in a bit of panic.
Still in our pajamas, we scrambled to throw on clothes and get out the door quickly with our very sick little dog. It had snowed Christmas Eve and the roads were unplowed and icy. The drive to the vet hospital seemed to take forever with Rutgar trembling in my arms all the way.
Dr. Pat was waiting and we rushed our little guy on to the scale and then into the exam room. Dr. Pat palpated Rutgar’s tummy and could feel an impaction in the lower intestine. With rubber gloves he examined Rutgar internally. (A polite way of describing the ‘up the bum’ examination) The procedure was extremely painful for Rutgar and was followed by several enemas and a large dose of laxative. Little by little tiny pieces of bone started to come leaking out, but there was still so much the Dr. couldn’t reach. He sent us home with instructions to give Rutgar more laxative and small amounts of water every half hour.
When we arrived home everyone was sitting on the couches around the living room, waiting for our return before opening gifts, but our heats weren’t really into it. We watched Rutgar sitting hunched in the corner and in obvious pain. Rutgar loves Christmas and especially loves opening his own gifts, but this year, he made a couple of futile attempts and just laid down, looking sorrowfully up at us.
Boxing Day and he was no better. I had dutifully stayed up all night giving him 36cc of water every 30 minutes otherwise he would drink and drink until he would vomit, exacerbating dehydration. Dr. Pat was going to be away for the day so he had asked us to call him at 6:30am to give him a progress report. “Better bring him back and let me have another look,” he said. So, it was off again for another torturous treatment, exploring for bone shards, followed again by more enemas and laxative. “Looks like full blown pancreatitis. He needs to continue getting the laxative and small amounts of water around the clock.” He called later that night to see how Rutgar was doing. “Not much better I replied. Not passing much but a bit of bloody diarrhea.” I told him.
“Give me a call tomorrow morning and let me know how he’s doing. I’m going to be away again and if he needs surgery, I wont be able to get to him until Wednesday,” he advised. My heat fell, although I really didn’t want Rutgar to have surgery, I didn’t have much hope that he would last another two days. “I may have to put him on an IV if he further dehydrates. Just keep giving him water every 45 minutes to an hour,” added Dr. Pat. I was already exhausted from two nights without sleep and facing yet another.
Monday morning and Rutgar was showing little sign of improvement. “Bring him back in,” said Dr. Pat. We drove off again for more of the same treatment with Rutgar howling and whining in pain. “I wish I could give him a sedative but after listening to his heart, it’s too risky.” In exasperation he went on, “Gosh, he feels empty, but no… I still feel something hard but I can’t reach it. Well, go home. Give him a bit more tonic lax and continue with small amounts of water often and I’ll call you later to see how he’s doing.”
It was heartbreaking watching Rutgar painfully straining to pass the offending impaction. We were all worried that there might be a bone shard stuck into his lower intestine that would require surgery. We tried to walk him as Dr. Pat advised but Rutgar didn’t want to go more than a few paces before stopping and straining again.
Then, Tuesday and Rutgar gave a mighty push and I saw something solid drop onto the snow. There it was, a chunk of bone the apparent same diameter as his colon. Rutgar looked relieved but I was afraid to be too optimistic, fearing that there might be another large piece of bone stuck somewhere up inside. I knew that there was certainly more of the calcified cement like bone granules left that this large chunk had been blocking.
“I’m so glad,” said Dr. Pat. “I really wasn’t looking forward to surgery. It’s an awful operation. Just keep me informed and let’s see how he does.”
Hour by hour, minute by minute, little Mr. Rutgar was improving. I no longer had to withhold water and his appetite had returned. Three small meals a day of rice, wet food, bits of elk and lamb to round out his meals and he was wanting more. He was back to begging at the table and although it’s a bad habit, it warmed me to tears to see him so interested in what we were having.
Thursday morning I took him for walk and this time there was no hesitation. As soon as he realized the car wasn’t coming out of the garage and there would be no trip to the vet, he step became buoyant. He joyfully dipped his head in the new fallen snow, lifted his nose to the cold air and trotted out ahead of me. I have never seen him so excited and happy to be going for a walk on such a cold day. He simply couldn’t get enough of it. I’m certain he was expressing, “I’m alive… I’m alive… And all is well with the world!”
He’s back to his funny little self. My husband is a cartoonist and for years his cartoon dogs looked just like Mr. Rutgar, and when Rutgar came along it was as if he was a living manifestation of my husband’s drawings.
Rutgar is back to eating regular meals and enjoying his Christmas toys. Hearing the constant squeak – squeak - squeak as he chews and tugs at them is the best sound we could hear right now even though I know it will drive us crazy before long.
So, here’s a bit of advice when faced with a pet emergency.
1) Our vet isn’t opposed to large, raw knuckle bones (beef or buffalo only) but they should be taken away if pieces start to break off and for safety sake, take them away in 15 minutes to half an hour.
2) Have a clear description of what has occurred leading up to the emergency to give your vet some idea of what is happening and to prepare for your arrival at the hospital.
3) If treatment takes place at home, it is important to keep accurate notes. You want to be able to answers your vet’s questions. When did she last have water? When did he last vomit? Is he able to walk? Is she straining? Is she urinating? You get the picture…
This all could have ended tragically but… thankfully it didn’t. So, let’s make 2011 the best Year ever and take time to appreciate those we love. Those with fur and those without… Cheers everyone.
To keep Kaspar and Rutgar from underfoot and barking every time someone came to the door, they were given their annual Christmas raw beef bones. In the confusion of last minute preparations and greeting guest, we had not noticed how much of his bone Rutgar had consumed.
I usually take the bones away after 15 minutes to half an hour and discard them and I usually only give them the occasional large knucklebone. This year, however, I was so busy that it wasn’t me who chose their bones and Mr. Rutgar got a bone that he was able to chew off chunks and swallow.
Christmas morning, stockings distributed me and my hubby snuggled under the covers, eager to see what ‘Santa’ had filled our stockings with. I invited Rutgar to hop up on the bed as he usually does on these cold winter mornings while we have our first cups of coffee. I looked down beside the bed where he was huddled, looking pitifully up at me. I had a sinking feeling. I could tell he was in some kind of distress. I reached down and picked him up. He was trembling in pain. He’s had the occasional tummy ache, but this looked more serious. I wondered if he had somehow gotten a piece of chocolate or some other forbidden delicacy. Then I remembered, the bone… I had taken it away from him but as I thought about it, I realized that when I did, it was a lot smaller than when I had first seen it.
I watched him for a little while longer and realized he needed professional help and fast. I called the vet’s emergency line. “Get here fast,” he said. “Can you be here in 20 minutes?”
The family was getting ready for breakfast followed by the ritual gift exchange. “Sorry everyone, but we have to get to the vet right away. Just go on without us and we’ll get back as soon as we can,” I implored in a bit of panic.
Still in our pajamas, we scrambled to throw on clothes and get out the door quickly with our very sick little dog. It had snowed Christmas Eve and the roads were unplowed and icy. The drive to the vet hospital seemed to take forever with Rutgar trembling in my arms all the way.
Dr. Pat was waiting and we rushed our little guy on to the scale and then into the exam room. Dr. Pat palpated Rutgar’s tummy and could feel an impaction in the lower intestine. With rubber gloves he examined Rutgar internally. (A polite way of describing the ‘up the bum’ examination) The procedure was extremely painful for Rutgar and was followed by several enemas and a large dose of laxative. Little by little tiny pieces of bone started to come leaking out, but there was still so much the Dr. couldn’t reach. He sent us home with instructions to give Rutgar more laxative and small amounts of water every half hour.
When we arrived home everyone was sitting on the couches around the living room, waiting for our return before opening gifts, but our heats weren’t really into it. We watched Rutgar sitting hunched in the corner and in obvious pain. Rutgar loves Christmas and especially loves opening his own gifts, but this year, he made a couple of futile attempts and just laid down, looking sorrowfully up at us.
Boxing Day and he was no better. I had dutifully stayed up all night giving him 36cc of water every 30 minutes otherwise he would drink and drink until he would vomit, exacerbating dehydration. Dr. Pat was going to be away for the day so he had asked us to call him at 6:30am to give him a progress report. “Better bring him back and let me have another look,” he said. So, it was off again for another torturous treatment, exploring for bone shards, followed again by more enemas and laxative. “Looks like full blown pancreatitis. He needs to continue getting the laxative and small amounts of water around the clock.” He called later that night to see how Rutgar was doing. “Not much better I replied. Not passing much but a bit of bloody diarrhea.” I told him.
“Give me a call tomorrow morning and let me know how he’s doing. I’m going to be away again and if he needs surgery, I wont be able to get to him until Wednesday,” he advised. My heat fell, although I really didn’t want Rutgar to have surgery, I didn’t have much hope that he would last another two days. “I may have to put him on an IV if he further dehydrates. Just keep giving him water every 45 minutes to an hour,” added Dr. Pat. I was already exhausted from two nights without sleep and facing yet another.
Monday morning and Rutgar was showing little sign of improvement. “Bring him back in,” said Dr. Pat. We drove off again for more of the same treatment with Rutgar howling and whining in pain. “I wish I could give him a sedative but after listening to his heart, it’s too risky.” In exasperation he went on, “Gosh, he feels empty, but no… I still feel something hard but I can’t reach it. Well, go home. Give him a bit more tonic lax and continue with small amounts of water often and I’ll call you later to see how he’s doing.”
It was heartbreaking watching Rutgar painfully straining to pass the offending impaction. We were all worried that there might be a bone shard stuck into his lower intestine that would require surgery. We tried to walk him as Dr. Pat advised but Rutgar didn’t want to go more than a few paces before stopping and straining again.
Then, Tuesday and Rutgar gave a mighty push and I saw something solid drop onto the snow. There it was, a chunk of bone the apparent same diameter as his colon. Rutgar looked relieved but I was afraid to be too optimistic, fearing that there might be another large piece of bone stuck somewhere up inside. I knew that there was certainly more of the calcified cement like bone granules left that this large chunk had been blocking.
“I’m so glad,” said Dr. Pat. “I really wasn’t looking forward to surgery. It’s an awful operation. Just keep me informed and let’s see how he does.”
Hour by hour, minute by minute, little Mr. Rutgar was improving. I no longer had to withhold water and his appetite had returned. Three small meals a day of rice, wet food, bits of elk and lamb to round out his meals and he was wanting more. He was back to begging at the table and although it’s a bad habit, it warmed me to tears to see him so interested in what we were having.
Thursday morning I took him for walk and this time there was no hesitation. As soon as he realized the car wasn’t coming out of the garage and there would be no trip to the vet, he step became buoyant. He joyfully dipped his head in the new fallen snow, lifted his nose to the cold air and trotted out ahead of me. I have never seen him so excited and happy to be going for a walk on such a cold day. He simply couldn’t get enough of it. I’m certain he was expressing, “I’m alive… I’m alive… And all is well with the world!”
He’s back to his funny little self. My husband is a cartoonist and for years his cartoon dogs looked just like Mr. Rutgar, and when Rutgar came along it was as if he was a living manifestation of my husband’s drawings.
Rutgar is back to eating regular meals and enjoying his Christmas toys. Hearing the constant squeak – squeak - squeak as he chews and tugs at them is the best sound we could hear right now even though I know it will drive us crazy before long.
So, here’s a bit of advice when faced with a pet emergency.
1) Our vet isn’t opposed to large, raw knuckle bones (beef or buffalo only) but they should be taken away if pieces start to break off and for safety sake, take them away in 15 minutes to half an hour.
2) Have a clear description of what has occurred leading up to the emergency to give your vet some idea of what is happening and to prepare for your arrival at the hospital.
3) If treatment takes place at home, it is important to keep accurate notes. You want to be able to answers your vet’s questions. When did she last have water? When did he last vomit? Is he able to walk? Is she straining? Is she urinating? You get the picture…
This all could have ended tragically but… thankfully it didn’t. So, let’s make 2011 the best Year ever and take time to appreciate those we love. Those with fur and those without… Cheers everyone.
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