My name is Betty, and I am a dog.
A cute dog, you’ll agree.
I have been asked by someone at Cogges to tell you about my day at the surgery. I arranged for someone to take some photos, hopefully this will aid my presentation – though I’m afraid I don’t always look my best.
So here we are.
This is the reception area. A nurse greets us (she instantly likes me, I can tell) and some details are discussed while a consent form is filled in – contact details, whether I’ve been starved (!), or any other concerns. I am weighed on some scales – don’t ask, a lady does not tell.
This is Doris, one of the vets. She listens to my heart (it pounds!) and my lungs and examines me more generally too. The person I live with, my human companion (I don’t like ‘owner’, it seems a bit biased to me) tells Doris how she thinks I’m doing.
On my way to the kennel room. Yes, I am boarding! I have a sniff around, but there are no DLU’s (Dogs Like Us) here. There are a few cats too, but, well, they’re cats..
- This room (alright, it’s a cage) is pretty cool. And comfortable too.
A little later, the vet applies a pre-medication injection. This is to relax me.
Things get a bit fuzzy. I feel relaxed and calm, maybe something to do with that injection. I relax even more…
…okay, so the evidence that I am falling asleep is overwhelming.
By examining some more photos (see below) and interrogating my human companion, I have managed to reconstruct the following events.
Once I am asleep I am given an intravenous injection through a catheter which anaesthetizes me. A tube is placed in my airway so that I am provided with oxygen and anaesthetic gases.
A patch of hair is clipped (I know! So embarrassing..) and my skin is cleaned for surgery. There is picture of this, but I refuse to have it published…
Karen, the vet, scrubs her hands. I would have insisted on this if I’d been awake, as this ensures everything is kept as clean and sterile as possible in order to reduce the risk of infection.
I am moved into theatre while Sam, a qualified nurse, carefully monitors me to make sure I don’t feel a thing – and I can vouch for this: I don’t feel a thing. Phew!
Also, I am placed onto a special heated blanket to keep me warm.
Even here I demand certain luxuries.
Karen puts on a gown and gloves, covers me with a drape and begins the surgery. And this is where I look away! Away!
During the operation, I am constantly monitored by Sam.
After the successful surgery, I am wrapped up in a blanket and put back into my kennel, where Sam continues to monitor me while I come round from the anaesthetic.
I feel a little confused, to be honest, and there are some tender spots, but I am comfortable and already a little worried about my looks. Am I still glamorous? Not too sure, but I am a little peckish, so a snack is more than welcome. And I know I’ll be spoiled rotten once I get home, because, well, because, as you have witnessed, I have really suffered.
Thank you, all at Cogges for allowing me to reveal these behind-the-scenes details. Remember my name.