An Interesting Microscope Slide

D. E. Larsen, DVM

I looked at the pathetic little orange tabby kitten that was on the exam table. It was supposed to be a year old but looked more like six months. It had very little meat on its bones, and it looked like it had some long-standing chronic diarrhea. The diagnosis could be any of a dozen things, but feline leukemia virus was at the top of my list.

I glanced at the older lady who brought the kitten in and was standing at the end of the table, waiting for some glimmer of hope from me. This was going to be tough.

“We are going have to do some tests to find out what is going on with this kitten,” I said, trying to display some genuine concern.

“Tests, what kind of tests are you talking about?” Mrs. Alford asked. 

“With this chronic diarrhea, I need to do a fecal exam to check for worms and other parasites. I should also do some blood work. This kitten looks a little anemic. Feline Leukemia Virus is a possibility, and that requires sending some samples to the lab for a diagnosis.”

“We are not in a position to pay for a bunch of testing for a sick kitten. We moved to town about a year ago, and we are still recovering from the expense of the move.”

“Where did you move from?” I asked.

“We moved from Arkansas,” Mrs. Alford said. “My husband’s brother has been out here for several years. He had a job lined up for my husband. There is a lot more work here than back home, and the money is much better. But still, it takes a little time to get our feet under us again.”

“We can try treating this kitten with some simple testing. I can do a fecal exam here, and I can look at a blood slide. I like to think that I am pretty good at diagnosing Feline Leukemia from a blood slide. I’m not as good as the lab, however. The thing you need to understand is that if this is feline leukemia, this kitten will die. There is no effective treatment for it at this time. If we miss the diagnosis, sometimes we will spend a lot of money on treatment that, in the end, do little or no good.”

“We are interested in doing something if we can help Ginger. Otherwise, we will just have to make some other decision.”

“Can you leave her with us until late this afternoon?” I asked.

“Sure, would four o’clock be okay?” Mrs. Alford asked.

“That would be great. We can have everything done by then, including her initial treatments.”

We put the Ginger in a kennel, and before we could get a little box in the kennel, she deposited a stool sample for us. We collected the sample and started a fecal floatation. 

I used Zinc sulfate as a floatation solution. Mixing it with the sample in a test tube and spinning it in a centrifuge would bring all the worm eggs to the top of the test tube, where they would be collected by a coverslip.

When I put that coverslip on a microscope slide and got it under the microscope, I was shocked at the number of worm eggs on the slide. 

“This poor kitten, she has a massive number of roundworms and hookworms. I wonder if there are other pets at home that came from Arkansas,” I said to Dixie. “She will definitely benefit from some worm medicine.”

Then I collected a couple of drops of blood. We ran a packed cell volume, and Ginger was only slightly anemic. 

“This anemia could easily be from the parasites,” I said. “Ginger might be lucky and not have leukemia after all.”

With one drop of blood, I made a smear on a microscope slide. I stained the smear with a Dip Quick Stain and put it on the microscope as soon as it was dry.

I started scanning the slide, looking for abnormal cells that would suggest a case of feline leukemia. The slide was primarily normal, except for an increase in the number of eosinophils. Eosinophils are a white blood cell that often increases with parasitism. So this was not alarming to me.

Then it came into view. It took me a moment to digest what I was looking at. Here in the middle of the slide, was a microfilaria. This tiny worm had all the anatomy that was consistent with a heartworm microfilaria. 

Heartworm disease in the cat is rare. In areas with heartworm disease, it only occurs about one-tenth the number that it occurs in dogs. In Oregon, in 1977, heartworm disease was rare or nonexistent in native dogs. How in the world did this cat get heartworms.

I called Mrs. Alford. “Mrs. Alford, Ginger is heavily parasitized. She has many roundworms and many hookworms. I also think that she has heartworms. I am going to send a slide over to the diagnostic lab for confirmation on the heartworms.”

“What does it mean for her chances?” Mrs. Alford asked.

“I wished that I could answer that question,” I said. “I have never seen a case of heartworms in a cat. I don’t think we can treat them in the cat, so it just depends on her living with them if she can. The good thing is cats generally only and one to three heartworms when they are infected. Hopefully, she will feel a lot better when we get rid of the other worms.”

“Can we pick her up this afternoon?” Mrs. Alford asked.

“Yes, and when you pick Ginger up, I would like to discuss her life with you. I am very puzzled at how it is that she became infected with heartworms.”

“Well, she does live with our three dogs. All the dogs lived in Arkansas for five to six years.”

“I guess that could do it,” I said. “I will send this slide over for the lab to double-check it, and I will let you know their findings.”

***

“Good morning, this is Doctor Dale Robertson,” Dale said as I answered the phone. “I am a resident at the diagnostic lab. I am looking at the slide you sent over. That is definitely a heartworm microfilaria. I was wondering how you found this?”

“I was just scanning the blood smear,” I said. “Actually, I thought this kitten had feline leukemia. It is close to a year old and looks to be less than six months. This microfilaria just jumped out at me.”

“Heartworms are thought not to exist in Oregon,” Dale said. “And in endemic areas, they are very rare in cats. How do you suppose this cat was infected?”

“The family is from Arkansas, and they have three dogs in the house that came from Arkansas,” I said. “This kitten was born in Sweet Home. The reservoir is obvious, but the transmission needs to be explained, I guess.”

“The lifecycle change in the mosquito is very temperature dependent,” Dale said. “You hear different times and temperatures. It sort of depends on which expert you read. But it is generally accepted that you need a temperature over fifty-seven degrees for twenty-four hours a day for two weeks for that change to happen. Those are rare temperatures in Oregon. I guess it could happen inside a house.”

“It is my understanding that there is not much to do with the treating heartworms in the cat,” I said.

“Yes, they have to live with the worms, if they can. And just so you know, I am going to write this up for publication. It should be of interest to a few experts.”

***

When I talked with Mrs. Alford, Ginger was much improved with the deworming. I explained the heartworm infection, and she was not too worried about any treatment.

“Back home, every once in a while, a dog will die from heartworms. The vets say a lot of dogs have them. I’ve never heard of a cat with heartworms. But Ginger is just going to have to live with them if she can,” Mrs. Alford said.

I was able to follow Ginger for another year before I lost track of the Alfords. During that year, Ginger was doing fine.

Photo by Daniel Bernard on Unsplash.

One Little Screech

D. E. Larsen, DVM

Sandy pulled into our driveway and parked. The kids all piled out of the car and head for the house. Sandy followed with a sack of groceries.

“Mom hit an owl,” Brenda said as soon as she came through the door.

“It just swooped down and ran right into the car,” Dee said with arms out to show the tilt of the wings.

Sandy finally came through the door carrying a bag of groceries which she quickly set on the table. She pulled out a chair and sit down, burying her head in her hands for a moment.

“It was horrible,” Sandy finally said. “It just happened so fast, I couldn’t do anything. This little owl just swooped down into the headlights and ran right into the car. I think it realized its mistake at the last minute. His wings flared, and he sort of turned sideways, and then he disappeared from view under the hood.”

“Did you see him on the road after you hit him?” I asked.

“I didn’t hit him!” Sandy said. “He hit me. And no, I didn’t see him on the road. If you haven’t noticed, it is dark outside.”

“Well, don’t feel so bad about it,” I said. “It wasn’t your fault. It is just one of those things that happen. It would have been dangerous to try to swerve to miss him.”

“I know. I just feel bad about the girls having to see it happen.”

“Maybe I better go check the front of the car,” I said.

I went out, with Amy and Dee in tow, and looked at the front of the car. Sure enough, there was a little owl stuck in the grill.

“Run and get me a flashlight, Amy,” I said as I knelt down to look closer.

This was a little screech owl. He was unconscious, but his heart was beating strong. He had one wing struck through the grill, which seemed to be what was holding him in place. 

Amy returned with the flashlight, and with a better light on the subject, I carefully removed the owl from the grill.

“Is he alive?” Dee asked.

“He is alive,” I said. “Knocked out, but alive. Let’s take him in so I can get a better look at him.”

“But you don’t treat birds,” Amy said.

“For tonight, I am all he has. Tomorrow, if he is still alive, we will take him over to Dr. Britton in Albany. He is the veterinarian who takes care of all the owls and hawks in this area. You guys maybe remember me talking about Dr. Britton just the other day.”

“Oh, yes,” Amy said. “He is the one who stops and checks all the opossums who are killed on the road. He takes the babies in their pouch to feed to the hawks and owls he has in the hospital.”

“That’s the one,” I said. “And Dr. Britton tells me to have people put the injured owl in a box to keep it quiet until they can bring it over to him. So you guys get a box, and I will check this guy over on the dining room table.”

We placed a towel on the table, and I carefully positioned the little owl on the towel with the wing caught in the grill on the upside.  I checked the little owl over and could find no injuries. I extended the wing that caught in the grill. It was okay, no fractures found, and even his flight feathers were undamaged.

“This guy must have put the brakes on pretty hard to escape any major injury,” I said.

“What are we going to do with him?” Sandy asked.

“I am going to give him a dose of dexamethasone and put some eye drops in his eyes. Then we will put him in the box, padded with a couple of towels, and see what morning gives us. If he can’t fly away in the morning, we will take him over to Dr. Britton.”

“Why do you call him a him all the time,” Amy said. “How do you know it is not a girl owl?”

“I don’t know if he is a she,” I said. “When I was taught the English language, I was taught to use the male pronoun when the sex was not known. I just do what Mrs. Starr told me to do.”

“Who is Mrs. Starr?” Brenda asked. 

“She was my English teacher in high school.”

I went out to the truck and got some eye drops and a bottle of dexamethasone. Guessing at the weight, I gave this little owl two-tenths of a cc of dexamethasone and a couple of drops of lubricating eye drops in each eye. Figuring he had to have a pretty good knock on the head, the dexamethasone should relieve any swelling and inflammation. The eye drops were just to protect the surface of his eyes.

We put the box over in the corner, and everyone was instructed to leave it alone. A couple of hours later, the girls wanted to check the owl before going to bed. 

I carefully opened the top of the box and peeked inside. There was the little owl, sitting up and looking at me with bright eyes.

“He’s awake and looks pretty good,” I said.

Of course, everyone had to peek.

“Maybe we should see if he wants to fly away,” I said.

I took the box out and put it down on the driveway. With the box opened, I stepped back. Nothing happened for a moment. I went over to the box and offered my hand for a perch. The little owl jumped on my forearm. When I lifted him clear of the confines of the box, he took off and flew into the night.

Everyone cheered.

“That makes me feel much better,” Sandy said.

From the Archives, one year ago

Hallowed Ground

https://docsmemoirs.com/2020/05/24/hallowed-ground-prefaced/