No, it's not a foray into a bad joke. It's my life at the moment.

I'm on my signifiicant others' tenth-year vet school reuniuon cruise to Belize and Cozumel. It's the first time I've been out of the country in twelve years...and I'm loving every minute--except for the hours I've spent worrying about how I'd ever manage to post my blog entries.

Shortly after embarking, I was informed that...

As I write this, I’m being treated to the midnight sounds of outdoor kitty interactions—none of them good, you can be sure of that. The crescendo of screeches typically indicates that one of only two things is in process: fighting or mating (two non-mutually exclusive activities in the feline world, I’m afraid).

I got to thinking about my burgeoning neighborhood population of strays earlier in...

As we’ve often discussed on Dolittler, not every person has the means to pay for even the most basic pet care. We can vilify them all we want for their irresponsibility but it ain’t gonna make a difference once their Fido or Fluffy’s arrives at the hospital on death’s doorstep.

Such was the case with today’s critical case. A dying, four year-old female Min Pin. Her brother had succumbed two...

I awoke this AM to the sound of strange, shuffling footsteps at my bedroom door. In a second I was up and out of bed, heart pounding, ready to pounce or hide from my attacker. I don’t know which tack I would have taken, since I flung the bedroom door open only to find my Sophie Sue practically dragging herself across the floor.

Hands shaking and in tears, I made her relax and lie down where...

It’s Sunday morning and I’m all alone at the hospital. I’ve got phone calls to make, two stable liver kitties to medicate and fine-tune, my colleague’s Presa canario to babysit while he’s out of town (all 160 pounds of him) and then I’ve got these kittens…all these smelly kittens…

It looks like I’ll be getting my hands dirty again today.

My two colleagues (the ones who own the hospital) they...

There’s always a point in the treatment of any serious case when I’m forced to wonder what I would do if it were my very own pet's life-threatening crisis and not the patient's before me.

For some reason I can’t get past this inevitable moment. I know it makes me a prime candidate for “compassion fatigue” and irrevocably skews my unbiased perspective but it’s one thing I haven’t overcome…not...

Again, late for my very important date…with my laptop and today’s post. Late to the conference I attended all day today. Late to an important lecture after getting hung up on a Dolittler demo with a potential sponsor (I’m still looking for love in all the wrong places). And late to get home after driving for hours in the rain on the return trip.

At least the flu I’ve been suffering this past...

I have a confession (yes, another one—but it’s a biggie): I often prefer to sit with my computer and write to you than actually see patients and clients. I’ve been feeling guilty about this for about a year now, but it’s finally wearing on me enough that I feel the need to come clean.

I acknowledge this to you now after suffering a couple of weeks of grinding, work-related stress that urges me...

OK, so I know it’s late to be posting on a Sunday. I have no excuse. It’s just that I’ve been reading the new Harry Potter since I picked up my reserved copy yesterday after work and I haven’t been able to put it down (except for the innumerable interruptions a nine year-old child can manage to provide when he’d rather be playing at something else and occasionally wrenching a good book out of...

No sniveling complaints here. I’d like to prove with this post (your read of my recent entries to the contrary) that I am indeed capable of offering up more sanguine fare on the business of healthcare. Last night’s experience at the human ER was proof aplenty that human medicine can be done right—even in large, institutional settings. And I enjoy giving credit where it’s due. Here’s my...