http://www.marktoe.co.za/veearts/item/102-pasteurellosis-winter-illness-in-sheep-and-goats

http://www.marktoe.co.za/veearts/item/44-african-horse-sickness

http://www.marktoe.co.za/veearts/item/10-vaccinations-required-for-your-new-puppy

http://www.marktoe.co.za/veearts/item/10-vaccinations-required-for-your-new-puppy

Suicide - why do so many vets do it?

I do not propose to be an expert in this field. I have more questions than answers.  I do know that I weep each time I hear of an intelligent and caring human being belonging to my profession ending their life prematurely. I know that I have tasted times of despair, exhaustion, feeling that I am not good enough, or that I have failed my patients and that I suck. I do not know if I was ever really suicidal, but I have certainly given it more than a passing thought. I even had a secret stash of M99 for decades for just in case. I eventually threw it away - not because I no longer experienced the troughs, but because I was afraid that I might be tempted to use it some day.

Are we by our very nature of wanting to make things better for animals and caring very deeply about that, more prone to suicide than the general population or is it the job that could break anyone down, regardless of personality type? Do we over analyze and over think things?

As I have grown older, I have grown stronger. Perhaps having less life left over, I treasure it more.  I accept that I am not invincible and that some patients cannot be saved. I also accept that I am human, and although I still feel sick to the pit of my stomach if my treatment harms or even kills an animal, I get over it much sooner. I am still upset by difficult clients, but get over them faster too. I have learnt to be careful and thorough and accept that if I have done my best and things still go pear shaped , I am not solely to blame. I still find it very hard to express my feelings and talk about my problems. If I suffer a great loss I will tough it out as long as I can until I eventually break down in tears when I am alone and cry my heart out. Often that is also the beginning of the healing process. On a personal level I have learnt that I am responsible for my own welfare. Happiness does not come in the form of a perfect partner, job, house, or salary. It dwells within me. I give others less power over my mental well being than I did when I was younger.

Even so, I find time spent with friends and family helps to cheer me up - even if I never talk about my problems.

I have learnt that the cliched stuff actually does work. The glass should always be half full. Think about what you have to be grateful for every day. Practice positive self talk. See small problems and issues for what they truly are. A flat tyre, stubbed toe and a dead dog, all in one day, does not mean that you are totally useless, or that the universe is conspiring against you. I have learnt to recognise the black dog of depression for what he is before he has a chance to sink his teeth in.  I have discovered that St. Johns Wort taken early does help for me. I have used prescribed anti-depressants at times, but find the side-effects hard to deal with. I have discovered certain coping mechanisms that work for me. For instance, normally I am in awe of beauty in nature. If I get really down (or depressed) a stunning scene fails to lift my spirits. Then I look at everything I see analytically as an artist, as if I am going to draw it. A few days of this really helps, even if I never have a chance to put pencil to paper. It may only help for me because I love drawing, but I suspect using rarely used brain pathways may stimulate endorphin or neurotransmitter release. All the experts say exercise, get a hobby outside work that takes your mind of work, spend time with friends.

My daughter once commented on the struggles a past boy friend had because he felt angry and abandoned by his dad who had killed himself, even though the boyfriend was an adult at the time. He felt that his dad was a coward for not dealing with his issues and selfish for killing himself. Maybe he had no idea of the struggles his dad was going through, or he would be less judgemental. However, it brought home to me the massive impact suicide has on those you leave behind. Over and above the sadness, relatives and friends have to deal with guilt and worrying whether  something they did or said, or neglected to do or say, contributed to your problems.

I also wonder whether veterinary suicide is always a case of true clinical depression, or just a moment of total despair, possibly brought on by one or a series of distressing incidents. I have seen deep long lasting clinical depression in a close relative and know I have never been that bad, so please don't think for one moment that I am making light of true depression or suggesting that trite self talk is all it takes to "snap out of it".  However, I do believe that certain techniques have helped me avert depression by recognising and dealing with a "down" mood early.

Either way, please, please my colleagues, never be tempted to end it all. If you feel that way,or even long before you get to that point, seek help. Phone a colleague or a vet or general helpline, any time of night or day. Over and above being a great vet, you are one of a select few and besides your immediate family and friends, the world really needs your intellect and insight. Even if you killed that horse today by miscalculating a dose, and you are feeling really, really terrible and useless, lift up your head, learn from your mistakes and look to the future. There are great changes afoot - burgeoning population, global warming, cloud computing, 3D printing,  increasing religious fanaticism. The world needs you. Apply your mind. Help to make the world a better place one vaccine or one spay at a time.

It will pass.

With love,
Your colleague,
Joan

To quote John Denver: "Live, live without care" and travel on a budget!

What to do if you are single, poor, not so young anymore, but love to travel? Easy - just forget the first three, and go!
I booked a motorhome relocation from Hobart, Tasmania, to Melbourne over 4 days. My landlady kindly got up very early on Saturday morning to drop me off at the Gull bus station. The flight from Melbourne to Hobart took just over an hour, but off course the whole airport procedure took much, much longer.

My first glimpse of Tasmania was of the northern coastline, through hazy skies and broken cloud. On approach to Hobart I spotted the complex coastline with many bays. The airport was quite small and disembarking and collecting luggage was seamless except for the seal on the luggage belt. I walked to the nearby motorhome depot and was given a video to watch in a very noisy environment.

I had a sketchy idea of how to get out of Hobart on route 1. After a false turn which took me in the opposite direction to near Opossum Bay, I finally made it out of the sprawled urban area. Sometime I would like to spend time in Hobart itself and explore the city and its surrounds with its clean parks and many bays and waterways. My grand plan for this weekend was however, to see as much of the country as possible  in three days!

Once out the city the natural beauty immediately became apparent with rolling hills, clear rivers, lovely reflections on the water with blue skies and just enough cloud to make it interesting. I headed west to Mt.Field National Park. The guide book said the park could be very busy at times due to its proximity to Hobart. I however, took a gamble when I passed the park entrance just after 4 to go and have a look at the Junee cave further down the road. I found the turn-off clearly marked and followed the road to a parking lot. From there I walked into increasingly dense and gloomy forest. There was no one else around and the deeper I went on the well laid out footpath, massive tree ferns and dripping moss gave the place a very spooky and primitive feel. What was that crack? Could it be a dinosaur egg hatching?  Close to the entrance to the cave a very large tree trunk had crashed across the built up ramp and I had to crouch down to pass under it, after first checking that the handrail was not carrying the full weight of the tree. Fascinating at it was, the cave itself, or at least as far as I could see, was small, with water appearing out of the left corner, partly obscured by rock. However, this stream has been flowing underground for over 30 kilometers to this point, from the other side of the watershed.

Back at the self serve campsite, I found that the powered sites were one on top of the other, so I opted for an unpowered site on the riverbank. I hoped that there may be platypus, but I never saw them. There were very few people in the unpowered sites, although the powered sites were packed. It is hard to understand why people drive long distances to get away from it all and then are happy to park their motorhome or caravan less than 3 meters from their neighbours! Besides my waterfront location, the amenities were close, though screened by vegetation. The water was hot and there were clean showers, toilets and laundry and washing up facilities with plenty of hot water. I did not investigate the cooking hut, as I had salad for the evening. Before settling in, I took a walk along the forestry road and saw trees and more trees and a wallaby in the dusk. The Tasmanian forest has a much larger variety of trees than most parts of Australia.

The roads up to the park are littered with carcasses, mostly wallabies and pademelons, though I also saw a platypus.

I woke up late the next morning and took my time getting ready to go. I drove north, stopping for coffee in a little village called Edenvale. I stopped at a tearoom/general dealer/post office for some coffee.The proprietor, Charlie, moved to Tas from Qld 5 years ago and says he loves it. He bemoaned the fact that retirees from the mainland were buying properties in Tasmania at inflated prices. Often if bad health and/or aging takes its toll, they are unable to sell for what they paid if they want to return to the mainland. He also says that it is not a good place for families with young children as the educational system is not good. The weather in the central highlands can be very cold. He claims the northwest coast is warmer and closer to civilization. Several houses in the village had for sale signs. Charlie made an excellent cup of coffee - well presented on a doily with a small biscuit.

I drove on through the highlands with beautiful scenery and several small towns to Lake St. Clair National Park, arriving there at about 2 pm. I booked a boat trip around the lake, even though I found the fee of $60 a bit steep! However, Stephen the guide was very good and could answer questions factually without the hype and nonsense I have heard from tour guides on the reef and the north of Queensland in the past. He did not know how many species of macropod Tasmania had! Not sure he knew that macropods were the kangaroo family!! It is a trick question I take wicked delight in asking of Australians. Very few know the term macropod!  I read somewhere that there are about 47 species of kangaroos, wallabies, wallaroos, pademelons etc.

The Wallabies commonly dead along the road are Bennets Wallabies. Tasmanian devils are occasionally seen near the camp. Echidnas are common and wombats are seen. Possums frequent the camp. One startled me in the cooking hut by passing right by my feet unannounced.

The lake is over 170 meters deep, is 11 degrees Celcius and has only one indigenous fish species. I would like to learn more about the dearth of indigenous fish in Tasmania, given its magnificent rivers and lakes! Trout has been introduced and fare well. One needs a licence to fish in Tasmania. It may be purchased online. During the safety briefing on the boat Stephen stressed that if he told passengers to don their lifejackets, they must not jump overboard but wait for further instructions. I wonder how long one can survive at 11 degrees?

The views from the lake are amazing. The boat travels up the left bank and returns down the right bank. Most mountain peaks are named after greek deities, Olympus being the main one on the left side, and Ida on the left. The old pump station, no longer operational,  is an imposing building on a concrete jetty. Apparently there are plans afoot to turn it into luxurious tourist accommodation.  The boat stops at two spots on the bank to pick up hikers returning from the 5 day overland trail. The youngest person to complete the trail was five and the oldest 84! I have no idea how strenuous it is, but perhaps I should try? There have two deaths so far this year - one a heart attack and one from exposure. The weather is very fickle and it can turn cold wet and windy in an instant. Proper preparation and gear is most important. Coal brickettes are airlifted to the huts en route and sewage is airlifted out! For this reason a fee is charged to hike the route. Overnight huts are very basic with  wooden bunk beds, outside toilets and an indoor wood stove, but they do provide welcome shelter against the elements.

After the boat trip, the water was calm and the late afternoon reflections on the lake just begging to have its picture(s) taken. I set off along the shore. When I could go no further, I found the footpath to Platypus beach, some 20 minutes further on. It was getting late, but the path was wide and clear and the best chance to see platypus is an hour before dusk, so I hiked to the bay in gathering dusk. I stood at the lookout point patiently until it was almost to dark to see, but no platypus showed itself. It was nearly dark when I walked back. A beer at the lodge cost $7.50, but I felt I had earned it! Not much a beer drinker at home, but I really enjoy OZ beers, perhaps because they sell less bitter ale, compared to SA's lagers. I used all my small change, then to my consternation discovered that I needed $1 coins for the stove plates and the shower! Luckily another tourist could change a $2 coin for me.

Unfortunately a bunch of very loud young Americans pulled up next to my carefully selected remote campsite - so no peace until very late!

After a late start the next morning, I was concerned that I may be late for the ferry if I visited Cradle Mountain, so passed by the turnoff - reason enough to return to Tasmania - which I did a few weeks later!

Tasmania is unbelievably beautiful, with much to see and do - especially for the nature lover, although there is also much of historical and cultural interest.



Expenses: Gull bus to airport $20
Park entry for 8 weeks $60
Motorhome $20 ($1000 dollar bond on credit card refunded)
Fuel $80
Fuel $60
Groceries $50
Ferry upgrade to cabin $66
Boat ride $60
Campground $10
Campground $20 (+ 20 deposit)
Stove use $1
Shower $1 (6 mins)
Gas in motorhome $10
Coffee 2X $8
Meal $18.50
Beer $7.50
Book $32
Public transport $5 (plus $10 not recorded by Myki!!)
Drinks and snacks en route $20
Flight $35 (frequent flyer points used)
Train $5
Map of Victoria and Melbourne - to find my way from ferry port to Werribee!
Map book of Tasmania

Next time remember to take:
$1 coins
Coffee, Milo, tea
Chutney/tomato sauce
Flashlight
Gloves
Beanie
Thermal underwear
Waterproof gholf pants to wear over jeans
More thicker socks.
Laundry bag
Wine
Nuts, chips etc.

Tasmania

Ouma in Tasmania

In April 2014 het Ouma gelees dat mens "motorhuise" kan verskuif vir die mense wat hulle verhuur en so taamlik goedkoop reis. Toe bespreek ek een en vlieg van Melbourne na Hobart. Die voertuig was groot en swaar en die paaie baie vol draaie, maar Tasmania is verskriklik mooi!

Die eerste dag het ek wes gery van Melbourne na Mt Field Nasionale Park. Ek het eers gaan kyk na 'n rivier wat onder die grond uitborrel. Om daar te kom, moes ek op 'n voetpad in 'n nat woud loop. Dit was al amper donker en daar was nie ander mense nie, so ek was'n bietjie bang, maar ek wou dit sien en het geloop. In die woud was dit donkerder as buite, Daar was groot bome met mos aan en reusagtige boomvarings. Dit het gelyk soos Jurassic Park en ek het amper verwag om 'n dinosaurus raak te loop. Maar ek het niks gesien nie, net die grot en die rivier wat daaruit borrel en pragtige plantegroei in die bos.

By Mt. Field het ek my voertuig langs die rivier parkeer en 'n ent met die pad langs gaan stap. Ek het 'n paar Bennets Wallabies gesien. As mens diere wil sien in Tasmania, moet jy teen skemer aand kyk. In die dag beweeg hulle selde. Ek het gehoop om Platypus in die rivier te sien, maar hulle was nie daar nie. 'n Platypus is 'n eienaardige dier. hy is 'm monotreme. Dit beteken dat al is hy of sy 'n dier, le sy eiers soos 'n eend, maar in 'n nes onder die grond. Daar broei die baie klein haarlose kleintjies uit. Die ma gaan net een keer elke dag of twee na die nes om vir hulle te laat drink, dan pak sy hulle weer toe met takkies en blare om warm te bly. Daar is gewoonlik net twee kleintjies. Die ma swem in die rivier rond en vroetel met haar bek soos 'n eend s'n in die modder en tussen die klippies op die bodem op soek na wurms en varswater krewe (yabbies). Haar oe is toe as sy onderwater is, maar sy kan elektriese trillings aanvoel van die prooi wat sy eet. Sy eet net lewende goggas.

Platypus het 'n skerp klou agtige nael aan die kant van hulle agterpote. As hulle vasgekeer word, of met mekaar baklei, gebruik hulle dit vir self verdediging. Die mannetjie s'n is die grootste. Daar is gif in wat soortgelyk is aan mamba gif en dodelik kan wees vir 'n dier of mens onder 30kg. Groot mense gaan nie dood van die steek nie maar die letsel kan vir so lank as 'n jaar baie pynlik wees. Daar is geen teengif beskikbaar nie. As mens nie met hulle lol nie, sal hulle niks aan jou doen nie, want hulle is eintlik baie skaam diere.

Die volgende oggend het ek verder gery na Lake St Clair. Daar het ek op 'n boot op die meer uitgegaan. Die meer is geweldig diep en baie, baie koud - net 11 grade celcius. Die water is kristalhelder. As die wind stil is, is daar die mooiste weerkaatsings. Na die bootrit het ek weer gaan stap en pragtige fotos geneem. Daar was 'n plek waar die gids gese het mens sien dikwels Platypus, maar ek kon weer nie een te sien kry nie!

Na 'n nag in die "motorhome" teen die rivier, het ek aangery deur berge en woude. Toe kom ek naby 'n dorp genaamd Queenstown in 'n maanlandskap met net kaal grond en rotse. In die omgewing het hulle vroeer jare gemyn sonder om die natuur in ag te neem. Nou is daar niks. Die minerale wat hulle gemyn het is ook op.

In die dorp het ek  huise gesien met  tuine vol kabouters!

Ek wou by Cradle Mountain aanry, maar daar was te min tyd. Ek het toe later weer Tasmania toe gegaan en Cradle Mountain gesien en rondom Dove Lake gestap. Ek was gelukkig om op een van die min sonnige dae in die jaar daar te wees.

Daar was baie diere by Cradle Mountain. Die wombat het in die veld gewoon, maar die quoll en

Tasmanian Devil was in 'n reservaat in hokke.

Met my tweede besoek aan Tasmania het ek ook die Ooskus besoek met sy pragtige strande en helder blou silwerskoon yskoue water.

Ek het ook net voor dit begin sneeu het, tot bo op Ben Lomond gery, met sy steil draaierige pad. Bo-op die berg is dit kaal en koud en winderig. As dit sneeu, kom ski baie mense daar. Daar is verblyf en ski geriewe op die berg. 

Tasmania is pragtig - seker een van die mooiste plekke waar ek nog ooit was. Daar is baie om te sien, en hoewel die eiland redelik klein is, is die paaie draaierig, die landskap uitdagend en die weer veranderlik en meestal koud. 'n Mens het seker minstens 'n maand nodig om meeste plekke te sien. Daar is baie gratis kampplekke in mooi natuurgebiede. Hulle het egter min geriewe - gewoonlik net 'n put toilet ver van die kampplek, soms skoon water. 'n Mens moet dus goed ingerig wees - verkieslik met 'n motorhome.  Die hotelle in die klein dorpies bied billike akkommodasie, maar gehalte is nie waffers nie. Verblyf naby Cradle Mountain is duur en nie altyd beskikbaar op kort kennis nie.  Hoewel Tasmania bekend is vir lekker kos, het dit my nie geluk om lekker kos te kry waar ek ge-eet het nie - inteendeel! 

Maar ek wil beslis weer gaan - sommer vir 'n maand lank met 'n lekker motorhome.  En wie weet, dalk sien ek 'n Tasmanian Tiger. Hulle is veronderstel om uitgesterf te wees, maar af en toe se iemand dat hulle een gesien het. 

Expensive Vets - a letter to Carte Blanche prior to their one sided program.

After 41 one years in the profession I recently semi - retired as a veterinarian. Semi, because after adding together my investments and a recent inheritance from my parents, I need to earn at least half of my final monthly salary of R30 000 to survive financially. But I had really had enough off my boss complaining that the practice was not profitable and the clients complaining about being ripped off.

Admittedly, part of my problem was caused by my lack of time while being on call 24/7 and poor knowledge of investment strategies. Part was due to investing in poorly performing Professional Provident Fund annuities. But mostly, I never had much extra money to invest – not after paying first study loans, then household expenses, children’s expenses and education, etc.

It was never about the money. Yes, I needed some to sustain my practice and my life, which was definitely not extravagant. Heck, I drive a 17 year old car and live in a tiny apartment.

However, the world is my oyster and I have so much to be grateful for. For one, I am still best friends with some of my clients – especially those I met early in my career, when life in general was not all about the money – even though in relative terms I charged a lot more in those days. In my first year in practice in 1974, I made R600 a month, which was a lot more than the R360 per month my husband earned as a teacher. But then he had cruised through a BA and teacher’s diploma and I had been one of only 4 girls selected to attend Onderstepoort in 1968 and had studied ridiculously hard for 5 years.

I could have been wealthier if I had stayed in one of several of the places I practised in or worked at in the earlier years of my career. However, after initially moving where my husband’s career took us and starting practices in remote rural locations like Clanwilliam and Aberdeen, amongst others, I eventually worked as state veterinarian in Kuruman for 5 years – earning much more than I ever did in private practice. I even learnt to fly!  After my divorce, I loaned money and bought 50% of a very successful practice in Botswana. There I had some money to spare. Strangely enough, I remember very few complaints about money. Of course the tax rate in Botswana was also much kinder than in South Africa and many clients were expats accustomed to overseas charges.

However, after 5 years there, my children had finished school and were travelling the world and working in exotic locations, so the travel bug bit!  I went to England, but discovered that all I liked was the pound, the postal system and the strawberries. The pay was good enough and the pound was strong enough to enable me to work for only 5 months of the first year.  The following year I joined the London to Sydney air race as a paying passenger and support plane co-pilot.  All my pounds spent, I worked for DEFRA during the Foot and Mouth outbreak for most of the year. My next venture was being a Clinical Tutor in Grenada, West Indies for a term. From there Australia beckoned and I accepted a high paying but disastrously bad job in rural Queensland. My next job was with a now corporate practice on the coast – average salary but great hours and working conditions.

Eventually I missed good old SA too much and once again attempted to practice in Clanwilliam around 2005 . By now most livestock had disappeared from farms as labour issues became more challenging and other forms of agriculture more lucrative. The most profit I made in any month was R3000.  And yet clients were complaining. I specifically remember seeing a lovely young Labrador belonging to an upper middle class family. He had a severely dislocated hip.  I offered surgery which would cost R1800. The owner declined on financial grounds, requesting euthenasia instead.  He told his distraught young son that he would buy him a new dog. The tears I cried were definitely not about money. I had to end the life of a delightful young dog that could easily have continued to have a great quality of life after surgery. This is not why I became a vet – working hard at school to get into university, working even harder in my first year to get into Onderstepoort and suffering significant financial hardship to complete my studies and repay my loans.  And what values was this father teaching his child?

To add insult to injury, I had dinner with a friend at the local restaurant that evening.  The man in question was entertaining a group of friends with free flowing alcohol and lavish meals. His bill was over R2000. His beautiful dog was dead in my freezer.

However, life’s little setbacks aside, my career has allowed me to see and experience a large part of the world, meet many people and treat many species, and I helped and saved many, many more animals than I killed or failed to save.  And who needs bungy jumping to experience an adrenalin rush! It also exposed my children to many experiences they would not have had if I was a stay at home mom, as they often accompanied me on call outs – even at night or “helped” in the surgery. None of them became vets!

I remember being called out late one evening to a cow with a prolapsed uterus in the Sandveld near Graafwater.  My husband was away. The three todders were bundled into the car half asleep and driven 50 odd kilometers, from where we had to walk a  kilometer in the pitch dark to the cow. I carried the youngest on my back.  My friend’s children played with brainy blocks while mine had to work out how to open a horse proof gate latch.

As vets we never had any financial education and in most cases minimal interest in the subject. I became a vet for one reason only – to help animals.  The great disconnect between animals’ financial value to their owners and their emotional value to the vet, plays a very significant role in the fact that worldwide the suicide rate in the veterinary profession in 4 times that of the average person and twice that of the medical profession. We HATE putting animals down. Some people even complain about the price of that.

The irony is that there are several EXCELLENT medical aid insurance schemes available for pets which would support expensive treatments, but most owners are too stingy too even consider putting aside a regular minimal amount to take care of their pet in an unplanned emergency.  Yet, although we bill clients we perceive as income earning, every vet alive treats hundreds of animals for free or at minimal cost for people who REALLY do not have the means.  We also save and rehome many strays at our own expense. This affects our bottom line quite significantly. And NO, we do not charge paying clients more to cover these cases. It comes out of our own pockets. Often seeing an animal recover and an otherwise unfortunate person happy, is reward enough, but we simply cannot afford to do it for all.

The Veterinary Council publishes a recommended fees list – not as a price fixing guideline – but as a guide for non – business trained vets to what fee is reasonable to charge depending on level of facilities and post graduate training or specialised skills. Most charge near the bottom of the range. City practices with superb facilities, trained support staff and specialists charge more. All practising vets need to work from registered facilities which comply with strict guidelines. In fact I have visited many doctor’s surgeries that are not nearly as neat and well organised as most veterinary practices. Of course there is no compulsion on any vet to charge within the guidelines, but if they exceed them without good reason they lay themselves open to complaints from clients. I do hope Carte Blanche will ask the SAVC how these fees are determined.

What many clients do not realise is that the majority of veterinary practices are in fact mini hospitals with loads of very expensive equipment, such as x-ray machines, ultrasound, anaesthetic machines, monitoring equipment, dental machines, accommodation facilities for animals, etc whereas medical practitioners have rooms with minimal instrumentation and use hospitals and equipment they do not personally have to own and staff they do not pay if they perform surgery or many procedures.  By the same token most people of moderate means have medical aid, or if poor, are treated at tax-payers expense. If you have a pet, you are responsible for payment.

Please also investigate the charity done by the CVC (Community Veterinary Clinics) in various part of the country. Many vets donate their time or work at a low rate for the CVC.

Vets are expensive compared to what? A few years ago I performed complicated intra-abdominal surgery lasting about 4 hours on a dog. A lot of supportive treatment was involved. Total cost R5000. Unhappy owner.  Soon after I had minor surgery to release a tendon in my thumb – cost about R15000. 

Last week a plumber sealed a leaking shower at my house with silicone, fixed a leaking kitchen outlet, and added a tap for a second washing machine – cost R2200. 

My income as full  time vet in South Africa equated to R100 per hour, baby sitters in Sydney charge R250 per hour!

My dog was smashed by a car a few years ago and needed extensive specialist orthopaedic surgery. Total cost came to just over R30 000. Considering that he had a dislocated hip which was fixed with a stainless steel toggle, a broken pelvis that was plated and a broken sacrum that was pinned, and made a full recovery after being hospitalised, medicated and nursed with care and kindness for a week, that is CHEAP. Yes, it is a load of money and without rainy day savings, available credit on a card or PETS HEALTH INSURANCE an average middle class family would have great difficulty finding the cash in an emergency.  But please remember your vet is in the same position as you are! He or she is NOT rolling in money and also has bills to pay.

So if you want a pet (a privilege, not a right), please, please plan for the unforeseen! It is not the vet’s fault if your dog escapes and gets hit by a car. It is not the vets fault if you cannot afford payment.  So stop the emotional blackmail. Be a RESPONSIBLE pet owner. Get adequate insurance, make sure all prophylactic treatments such as vaccines, worming, tick control etc is up to date. Keep your pet in a safe environment. Feed quality food. Work with your vet to ensure a healthy, happy, long lived pet. We really do care much more about your pet than we do about the money, but without an adequate income we cannot maintain and update our equipment, keep our knowledge up to date, train and pay our staff enough to keep them motivated (not everyone likes cleaning poo, urine, blood and other disgusting stuff with a smile  on their face) and support our own families. We would like nothing more than to work for free and never have to have the money conversations.

Anyone want to sponsor my free clinic and pay me a salary for working reasonable hours in a safe environment?  Running costs for a modest small animal clinic should come to about R300 000 per month, once the building has been purchased and modified and all equipment purchased – depending on location about 3 to 5 million rand .  My study loan has been repaid a long time ago. If you hire a young vet, they may be faced with paying back a study loan of about R1 million.

Kind regards

Dr. Joan Jordaan