The Angry Awn

D. E. Larsen, DVM

I glanced up the hill 100 yards, where Derek was moving through some high grass. There was a chill in the early morning of October air. This was the first weekend that I was free to hunt. We were carefully covering my favorite clearcut on the backside of Buck Mountain.

As I watched, Derek suddenly grabbed his face and buckled to the ground. It took me a couple of minutes to climb the hill to where he was on his knees, with his hand over his eye.

“What’s wrong,” I asked as I approached through the chest-high dry grass.

“Aw, I have something in my eye,” Derek said.

I pulled his hand away to look at his eye. It was tearing heavily and was mostly closed from the pain, and the pupil was pinpoint. The culprit was already on his cheek. A grass awn laid on his cheek an inch below his left eye.

“You had a grass seed in your eye,” I said as wiped the seed off his cheek. 

“It really hurts,” Derek said.

I was starting to wonder if I was going have to pack him out of here. That would be no easy task. There was a steep hill up to the road. 

“I have a first aid kit in the truck, and it has some eye ointment and an eye patch in it,” I said. “Do you want me to go get it, or do you want to try to walk out of here?”

Derek was quiet for a moment. “I think I can walk out of here with a little help,” He finally said.

I slung both rifles over my shoulder and helped Derek to his feet. 

“Keep that eye closed, and it will feel better,” I said.

We were some distance from the truck, but Derek did fine once we were moving. We got through the high grass and cut across the clear cut to the cat road that went up the hill. I had to provide some support on his arm as we climbed the hill to the truck.

I got Derek into the truck and then opened the first aid pack. I carried more of a first aid pack than what you would find on the drug store shelf. I was prepared for lacerations, fractures, and penetrating wounds. But I was a little limited on eye injuries.

I did have a small tube of eye ointment. It was a triple antibiotic ointment, but I figured it should be okay for this situation. After I squeezed it into his eye, the pain was alleviated somewhat.

It was a long drive back to town, not in miles but in time. The logging roads were not highways, and speed was not an option.

We were lucky that Saturday morning when the local Optometrist was still in his office, and he accommodated us with an emergency exam.

“There are a couple of tiny little scratches on his cornea,” the doctor said. “It should feel fine if we keep it lubricated with some ointment for a day or two.”

It was just a few days later when Mike came through the door with Bob. Bob was wagging his tail stub. He always seemed happy in the clinic. Bob was a Springer Spaniel who lived for the fall bird hunting.

“Good morning, Doc,” Mike said. “Bob has a sore eye. I would like you to look at this morning if you have time.”

I glanced at Bob, and his right eye was half-closed, and the side of his face was wet with tears. Other than the eye, he looked like nothing was wrong.

“This eye started bothering him a few days ago,” Mike said. “We hunted on Saturday, and everything seemed fine. On Sunday morning, I noticed he was squinting his eye a little.”

“Let’s get him up on the exam table where I can get a look at it,” I said.

Mike was a big, muscular young guy who cut trees for a living and spent most of his spare time hunting or fishing. Bob was his constant companion when he was hunting or fishing.

Mike lifted Bob onto the table for me, and I placed a couple of drops of topical anesthetic into his right eye. I thought that maybe I should put some of this in the first aid kit after Derek’s near incapacitation.

“We will give that a couple of minutes to soak in, and then I will be able to look at this eye a little better,” I said. “Where were you guys hunting?”

“We were up Canyon Creek,” Mike said. “There is a lot of quail up there. I miss a lot them, but Bob has a grand time. He is not much of a pointer, but he flushes the hell of them. Keeps me in shape just trying to keep up with him.”

I spread the eyelids wide on Bob’s eye. I could see there was an extensive ulcer on the surface of the cornea. I ran a blunt forceps under the upper and lower eyelids to make sure there was no foreign body. Then I grasped the third eyelid with the forceps and lifted it away from the corner of Bob’s eye. There it was, a large grass seed awn stuck under the third eyelid. I grabbed it with the forceps and pulled it out. 

“This is the problem,” I said as I held the seed up to show Mike. “Now, I need to put a little dye into this eye so we can see how much of the cornea is damaged.”

A drop of dye and a blue light from the ophthalmoscope and over half of the cornea’s surface glowed green.

“Look at how much the cornea is ulcerated,” I said.

“What do we need to do now?” Mike asked.

“I need to hang onto Bob for a couple of hours,” I said. “We need to suture his third eyelid up over his eye to serve as a patch. We will send him home on some medication, and things should heal just fine. We will take the sutures out in a week and expect the eye to be healed.”

Suturing the third eyelid was an easy procedure. With Bob under brief anesthesia, I placed a couple of mattress sutures through the upper eyelid. I used a small piece of rubber-band to serve as a stint so the sutures would not cut into the eyelid.

When Mike came to pick him up, Bob bounced out of the kennel like a new dog.

“He looks like he is feeling a little better,” Mike said.

“I will tell you a little story,” I said. “Last Saturday, I was hunting with my son up on Buck Mountain. My son got a grass seed in his eye. By the time a got over to him, the seed was already on his cheek. Now I’m telling you, he was so painful, I thought I would have to carry him out. When we got to the doctor, he had a couple of tiny scratches on his cornea. Bob comes in here wagging his tail, and over half of his cornea is ulcerated, and the grass seed is still there.”

“What does that say about how tough this dog is?” Mike said.

“Most dogs are pretty tough, and maybe people are just pansies,” I said. “Eye pain might be more intense in people because eyesight is more important to us. I don’t know, but there is definitely a big difference.” 


Photo by Scott Spedding from Pexels

The Camping Trip that Wasn’t

D. E. Larsen, DVM

I stood up to peddle harder as the last half mile was steeper. I wished I had one of those new bicycles with gears to shift. When the advertisement said you sell to your neighbors, they didn’t remind you that your neighbors were two miles away, uphill.

At 12 years of age, I had embarked on my first venture as a salesperson. Lured by a flashy magazine ad, I was going to sell garden seeds and earn enough to purchase a pup tent. It sounded simple, I had a few neighbors, and they all had large gardens. And I had a large family. Grandma’s can always be depended on to buy stuff.

“And who are you selling them for?” Margaret asked.

What a dumb question, I thought. You think I would ride my old bike for two miles up that hill to sell them for somebody else.

“I am selling them for myself,” I said. “I am going to get a pup tent.”

“I thought you might be selling them for the Boy Scouts or Church or something,” Margaret explained.

This is going to be more challenging than I thought. She would donate to some group, but she was hesitant to help some kid achieve his goal.

“That is why I need a pup tent,” I explained. “I have to work at home so much, I don’t have time to join the Boy Scouts. So I have to go camping by myself.”

I thought that was a good comeback. Margaret knew I worked in the barn and in the fields. But then, she also knew my parents. And they would not deprive me of joining the Boy Scouts if that was what I wanted to do.

“I will buy a couple of packs of the peas,” Margaret said. “I don’t have my seeds yet, and it is probably close to the time to be planting peas.”

I figured I would have to come up with a better storyline if I was going to sell all these seeds. And tomorrow, I was going to go the other direction. There were only a couple of small hills on the way to Broadbent.

As the spring progressed, I did manage to sell the necessary allotment of seeds. Although, I would guess my mother bought more than she planned to buy. I placed my order for the pup tent and waited anxiously for its arrival.

I tore open the box when it did arrive. The tent was much larger than I expected. And it was heavier also. Made from heavy canvas, at least it would be durable. It would be difficult for me to carry along with a pack, that was for sure.

I quickly had it set up in the back yard. There was plenty of room for two people that were my size. You couldn’t stand up in it, but that was no problem in my view.

It rained the second day after I had pitched it in the backyard. It didn’t leak one drop, but it took three days to dry out.

Summer came, I planned a camping trip to the back of our 160 acres with my friend from up the river. Dana and I could easily carry the tent, sleeping bags, and my brother’s pack with all the necessary supplies.

We were all packed up and ready to head up the hill when Dad came out to wish us well.

“We are planning to go to the movie tonight,” Dad said. “You two can stay up the hill if you like, or after you set up camp, you can come back and go to town with us. I have a good flashlight, you could go back up the hill when we get home.”

What a dilemma, a movie was hard to pass up in the mid-1950s. Movies were really our only source of outside entertainment. My Dad liked to go to the movies, and we would go a couple of times a month. I knew that Dana did not go that often.

“What do you think?” I asked Dana.

“I think it would be a good idea,” Dana said. “We could go set up camp, come back and go to the movie, and then walk back up in the dark to sleep.”

“Okay, we will go to the movie,” I said to Dad. “We probably will be back in time so we can eat dinner before going.”

With that, we were off. The trek was not long, we crossed the upper fields and crawled over the fence at the pasture’s end. Then we followed the cat road along the creek until it turned up the hill to the burn.

The burn was where they had logged the timber and burned it over to make good pasture for the cows. It was a good-sized area and open so we could watch the deer and other animals.

We picked a spot on the old landing and set up the tent. We threw everything else into the tent and headed back to the house for dinner.

“We don’t want to be late,” I said. “Dad won’t wait for us.”

We hurried along and got to the house just as mom was setting the table for dinner.

“This is a whole lot better than eating that can of pork and beans you would be heating over a fire,” Dad said. “You never know what you are missing until you don’t have it.”

My older sister pulled the car into the garage and came rushing into the house.

“I just had a cougar run across the road in front me,” She said, trying to catch her breath. “I was right down there at the end of Herman’s field.”

Dana’s eyes were large, as we turned around and tried to see if anything was in the field, some half-mile distant. There was nothing there.

“Are you sure it was a cougar?” Dad asked.

“We should call Uncle Robert,” Mom said. “He might want to get his dogs on its track tonight.”

“Yes, I am sure it was a cougar,” Linda said. “It had a long tail, and it moved like it didn’t have a care in the world. Are you boys camping up on that hill tonight?”

“We are going to the movie first,” I said. “We already set up camp. We will walk up there when we get home after the movie.”

“Well, I sure would not be walking up on that hill tonight,” Linda said. “That cougar probably is headed right up the creek.”

“They are brave boys,” Dad said. “We will find out tonight.”

When we got home from the movie, the night sky was clear, and the stars were bright. The moon was not up yet, and there were no lights around to distract from the milky way.

“So, do you boys want my big flashlight?” Dad asked with a little chuckle. “It is going to be pretty dark up along that creek. Or are you a little concerned about that cougar your sister says she saw?”

That was just a little hint that he was not sure he believed my sister. But it was still possible and something to think about.

“I guess we could probably sleep here tonight,” I said. “And then we could go up and cook breakfast at the campsite in the morning.”

“I think I would feel a lot better about things if you slept here,” Mom said. “That cat could carry you off before you even knew it was there.”

That was all we needed to hear. If Mom thought we should sleep in the house, we would sleep in the house.

We were up at the crack of dawn and headed up the hill. We were both well versed in the out of doors. We had a cooking fire going in no time, and I mixed the pancake batter.

“I am not sure those are going to look much like pancakes,” Dana said as he watched me trying to turn over the pancake in the little cook set fry pan.

By the time we sit back to eat, the pancakes were in a jumbled heap on the plates. But it was cooked, and a little syrup made it all better. We ate quietly, both of us thinking that Mom would have made a better breakfast.

After watching a few deer and the digger squirrels, we packed up the camp. Dana just folded the pup tent into a square and threw it over his back. It was all downhill to the house. We started off, chuckling about looking for cougar tracks down at the creek. That made us walk a little faster.

Saved by Daisy

D. E. Larsen, DVM

“I just don’t know what is wrong with her, David,” Violet said. “She won’t jump up on the bed, and she cries if I try to pick her up.”

Violet was one of my older clients. She was a tiny lady with snow-white hair, in her nineties, she was still very spry. She still lived by herself, and her sole companion was a Shih Tzu with a dirty white hair coat. Daisy was at the center of her activities.

I had noticed that Daisy was walking very carefully this morning. She was usually bouncing around when Violet would come into the clinic. Daisy tensed when I reached down to pick her up. She whimpered as I placed her on the exam table.

“She is really sore, Violet,” I said. “How long has this been going on?”

“I noticed her moving slowly yesterday, and then she would not jump up on the bed last night,” Violet said. “She didn’t say anything when I put her on the bed last night, but this morning she cried when I lifted her down.”

Daisy tensed under my slightest touch. I ran my hands over her body, looking for a sore spot. I started with some gentle palpation of her abdomen first, then down her spinal column. She cried out as I came to the middle of her spinal column. I repeated the procedure, and she cried out again.

“Violet, she has hurt her back,” I said. “Most likely she has a herniated disk, right in the middle of her back. That is a common location for a middle-aged Shih Tzu.”

“Is she going to be alright?” Violet asked. “I just don’t know what I will do if I lose her.”

“Usually, there is little or no progression of signs as long as we get some anti-inflammatory medication on board,” I explained. “But I should get a set of pictures, just to make sure there isn’t anything else.”

“David, I just can’t afford to spend a lot of money today,” Violet said. “You know, Social Security just doesn’t pay an old lady much these days. And I have just about outlived my savings account.”

“I’ll get a set of x-rays,” I said. “And I will worry about how to pay for them. We keep a little slush fund for just such an occasion. But you have to understand, x-rays often don’t show a lot on a case like this where there is no nerve disfunction.”

“Then why do you want to take them?” Violet asked.

“I just want you to know what we can expect tomorrow and next month,” I said. “It really doesn’t matter what the x-rays show us. Daisy is not a candidate for surgery, and she will have to have some lifestyle changes.”

“Lifestyle changes!” Violet says. “Now really, David, she lives with this old lady, we don’t have much of a lifestyle.”

“Little changes,” I said with a chuckle. “Things like no jumping and no stairs, keeping four feet on the ground. Making her a bed on the floor and maybe losing a little weight.”

“We don’t have any stairs. Keeping four feet on the ground might be a challenge as Daisy likes to stand up for treats,” Violet said. “Making her a bed on the floor will be difficult for both of us.”

“The bed on the floor might be the most important,” I said. “We will see what her back looks like on x-rays, but just one jump off the bed, and she could end up paralyzed.”

The x-rays didn’t show much. That is often the case with middle-aged Shih Tzus. There was just some narrowing of one intervertebral disk space in the middle of her back.

“This is just what I expected,” I said as I reviewed the x-rays with Violet. “Daisy is going to do well. We will put her on some anti-inflammatory medication for a few days and provide her with some cage rest while on medication. We can keep her here for the cage rest if you would like.”

“I most certainly would not like, David!” Violet said with a stern voice. “I could not live without her for those 3 days. My daughter has a kennel, and if she doesn’t, I am sure my neighbor does.”

So Daisy went home with Violet. I would have felt better if she had some help at home, as we loaned her a kennel for the trip to her house.

“You need to call your neighbor and have her help you get Daisy into the house,” I said.

“Yes, David, I will give her a call as soon as I get home,” Violet said. “I will have a lot to talk to her about, with all of Daisy’s problems.”

Violet’s neighbor was most helpful, indeed. She got Daisy into the house for Violet and loaned her a large kennel. Then she bought the small kennel we had loaned Violet back to the clinic. We made sure that she knew everything that was to be done over the next few days.

We expected things to be uneventful for Violet as Daisy mended her back. Nothing could be further from the truth.

The following morning Violet made an early morning call to her neighbor. Violet complained about not sleeping with Daisy on the floor, and Daisy whined all night because she was not on the bed with Violet.

Then the unexpected happened. Violet passed out in the middle of the conversation, her neighbor heard her hit the floor, and she hung up and dialed 911. Then she rushed over to Violet’s house to find Violet completely unresponsive on the kitchen floor. 

The EMT’s were there within minutes. Violet was in cardiac arrest. A couple shocks with the paddles, and she was revived. The neighbor took Daisy to her house, and Violet spent several days in the hospital. But she did return home where she lived several more years.

Numerous studies show pet ownership is a big plus for older people. People with pets tend to have fewer medical problems themselves and, in general, live longer than their non-pet owning peers.

In Violet’s case, it was undeniable that Daisy was instrumental in her living longer. Had Violet not been on the telephone to her neighbor that morning, they would have found her dead on the kitchen floor.

Photo by Dominic Buccilli from Pexels