What’s In a Name?

To Billy Shakespeare, it was a question posed between two star crossed lovers and juxtaposed families.  In our realm it’s where did your pet get its name?  Some of which are a book (or tragedy) of their own. From the bucolic Dusty to the laconic Dog, we have heard them all. The common Baby, Sweetie, and Precious have given way of late to the more flamboyant Sir Charles and Joy Bella Rose (my own mother’s dog).  We get a smattering of regional pride like Dixie, Belle and Rebel but have never run across a Yankee, (unless you count Jeter which is represented in our practice.)  There is the culinary crowd of Thyme, Pancake, and Biscuit.  My absolute favorite among those is Barbecue!  A fortunate (we assume) group are tagged Lucky. We have a myriad of what we call human names like George, Tom, and Calvin (who I believe is named for Calvin Klein).  There’s the rapper element like Lil-P and Big Boi.  The downright diabolical Murder and Cocaine (yep, I’ve seen it).  The signature of true southern pride is of course football.  In our neck of the woods, the depth chart is deep!  We have two Vandys, a few Aubies, a Smokey, some Bos (Jackson, we presume), and an unprecedented nomenclature for the University of Alabama with the likes of Bear, Julio, Fluker, Trent, with the nod going to Sabans by far.  We can’t forget Tebow, because there are two of them….both dachshunds. And to round out football, we had a Butkus who was a hulking Mastiff.  We could gather a bouquet of Daisys, put everybody here on a Harley, and even have a Chevy for the All-American crowd. 
So what’s in a name? Sometimes it is the result of deep contemplation or in honor of a favorite friend or loved one. Other instances, it is what we last ate.  Whatever we call them, it is an endearing title given to a valued member of the family.  We love it! 
To close and honor our aforementioned playwright, we do have both a Romeo and a Juliet but I have no idea if their parents are friends.
Dr. Y (owner of Ben, Anna, Liz and Frank)


"Success is not final, failure is not fatal: it is the courage to continue that counts."  - Winston Churchill

If you have driven by the clinic any in the last few years, you know we like to put life/funny quotations on our road sign.  If you were ever curious how we make those decisions about what to say, you can usually point the finger/blow the horn/hurt your neck trying to ready the dissertation at me.  It often boils down to something that happens in our lives or our cases/experiences at the clinic recently that spurs those quotes.  Some of the experiences are good, some are bad, and some are just plain frustrating.
If you know us outside of the clinic, we often wear our emotions on our sleeves (Don't ever ask my wife about this).  In our jobs, just like many others I am sure, our success/failure is born out on the table/cage/phone in front of us on a daily basis.  Some days, it feels like you can do no wrong and everything you touch will turn to gold.  Some days, no matter how hard you work; how hard you press; how well you think; how well you talk to the client; nothing goes like you envisioned it.  You sit down at the end of the day and are reminded that no matter how much we know, we are still performing the "art" of medicine not so much the "science" of it.
Unfortunately, because of how humans work and think, I can still remember the patients that just didn't do well or the surgery that didn't heal just like I knew it would.  It is easy to push aside those cases that did have a great response or the one that pulled through when the chances weren't great.
It is sometimes easy to view life/work as a bunch of pluses or minuses where all you are trying to do is end up in the black at the end of the day.  Thank goodness, we are blessed with a great staff and wonderful clients (figured ya'll would like this plug) that allow us to do our job to the best of our ability, and understand that sometimes we can't fix everything.  Those facts, along with the fact that I/we really do love what we do, keep us coming back.  What really makes me smile at the end of the day are the relationships that I/we have developed, and the number of people that trust us, I mean really trust us, with the care of their loved ones. It really is amazing.
So remember "success is not final, failure is not fatal: it is the courage to continue that counts."  I am really writing this one for myself, thanks for listening.
P.S. Just in case anyone is wondering, my day has gone great today.  Just one of those things I have thought about before.

Dr. B

My son's going to be mad at me today.

I had the pleasure/anxiety of neutering my only son today.  Operating on your own pet brings a wealth of emotions and gives me a new, found understanding of how our clients feel when its their loved one on that table.  Luckily for me, I am the one controlling the surgical success and I know immediately how is he doing.  But it does allow me to step on the other side of the exam table and experience those same emotions, which is always a great thing.
Let me tell you a little about Odie.  First, there is nothing little about him.  He is 135 pounds of muscle, and I swear his head must weigh 40 pounds by itself.  Second, much like every intact male dog, he considers it his job to mark every elevated object within a 1 mile radius of himself at all times, except inside (thank goodness).  My wife and I are currently "screening in" our back porch and Odie doesn't have the understanding/knowledge/doesn't care that that is now "inside."  So if he can feel the breeze then he thinks he's in the clear and lets it fly, literally.  I hope by removing the "extra testosterone" there may be a little less desire to claim everything as his own and hopefully keep our new screened in porch urine free.
Much to the chagrin of my wife, I make most of our furry kid's medical decisions without her consent or knowledge.  NOT A SMART IDEA.  Luckily, I had remembered this crucial bit of info last night and gave her a run-down of what I was planning to do and why.  Amazingly, she said "ok" with very little questions.  I must have said something right.  Again a miracle.
So I load the dogs up this AM and take them to work, probably their favorite activity because of all the sights, sounds, and smells.  Then I blindside Odie with a couple shots to make him sleepy and a little nauseous.  Next thing he knows, he is waking up on the floor drunk with his two favorite appendages removed.  Not what he signed up for.  I can see lots of treats in his near future to make up for this injustice.
Just so everyone knows, Odie is doing well and I am sure will be back to normal tomorrow, but he has had a nice nap for most of the day.
This is Odie recovering from anesthesia with a princess blanket.  Only the best for my son.

Dr. B