Roanoke Times
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: THURSDAY, August 24, 1995 TAG: 9508240012
SECTION: EXTRA PAGE: 1 EDITION: METRO
SOURCE: KEVIN KITTREDGE STAFF WRITER
DATELINE: LENGTH: Long
"Air-conditioned kennels," says one ad under "Veterinarians."
"Extended hours," says another.
"Skilled, dedicated and compassionate staff."
"Burial/Grief Support."
Even (doctors for humans, please note): "House calls."
Veterinary medicine, for years a world of spartan clinics and banker's hours, has lately undergone a sea change.
There is, for one thing, simply a lot more to know about the profession than there once was, veterinarians say.
"Whatever area you're looking at, the knowledge explosion has gotten to where it's impossible to keep up," said Keath Marx, a Blacksburg veterinarian who specializes in the treatment of exotic animals.
Technology has grown apace. Most diagnostic and other medical equipment used for the treatment of human beings also can be applied to animals, veterinarians note, so long as someone is willing to foot the bill.
But there is something else afoot, too. A change subtler, and maybe more profound - at least in what it says about our culture.
In a time when a dog can outlive a marriage, couples may put off having children for years in favor of twin careers, and the elderly often find themselves adrift, there is evidence that dogs, cats and other house pets are filling roles in our lives that once were filled by other human beings.
Beth Kirby knows.
"You've got two working people in the family who haven't gotten around to having kids yet," said Kirby, a veterinarian at Companion Animal Clinic of Blacksburg. "They come in with their pet, and it is a child substitute, and they are very serious," she said.
"I'm the same way," Kirby added. "I don't have kids - except for four-legged animals."
"The bond is incredible" between pets and their owners nowadays, said veterinarian Diane D'Orazio, of Roanoke's Veterinarians to Cats. "One of my clients put it best: as chaotic as the world has gotten, they give you a sense of peace and normalcy. It's something constant."
Veterinarians, meanwhile, are responding to the new seriousness about pets with longer hours, more services and - in some cases, at least - a new sensitivity to the evolving bond between man and beast.
Consider the case of Janet Slusher.
When Slusher had to have her dog, Lady Diana, euthanized a year ago, it tore her up.
"It was the toughest decision I ever had to make," Slusher explained, "because Lady was my little girl."
Enter Carolyn Harlowe - special services coordinator for the Vinton Veterinary Hospital.
Harlowe sat with her. She wept with her. She advised her where to get a doggie casket and a grave marker.
In short, she helped her through. "She [Harlowe] is simply wonderful," says Slusher.
Harlowe joined the Vinton staff a year and a half ago - after arguing to the veterinarians there that she was needed.
At a busy animal hospital, Harlowe believes, "sometimes the emotional end of it can be lost. ... I truly felt there was a need for someone to talk about feelings."
Harlowe will meet people in the parking lot who have come to have their animal euthanized. She will pick up animals for boarding when a family has an unexpected emergency. She does "lots of running around in the car," she said. "We think nothing of that."
Harlowe also advises pet owners whose pets are near the end of their lives to prepare for the inevitable. "You know this is going to come," she tells them. "Is there anything we can help you with? Would you like a casket or a wooden box? I think sometimes you're caught off guard and, after all is said and done, you wish you had done this, you wish you had done that."
Few animal hospitals have hired their own special services coordinator. But other clinics have made changes that - if less dramatic - also point to a changing marketplace.
For example: Blacksburg's Companion Animal Clinic recently began offering evening hours once a week, for the benefit of two-career couples. At least two veterinarians - Penny Livesay in the New River Valley and Ginny Tatum in Vinton - devote their practice exclusively to house calls for pets.
Two other veterinarians, Blacksburg's Keath Marx and Salem's Vanessa Rolfe - specialize in exotic animals, which is the fastest growing segment of the pet market.
Roanoke's Southern Hills Animal Hospital has separate entrances - and waiting rooms - for dogs and for cats.
"It really makes a big difference to cat people," veterinarian Mary Thornton said. The decor in the cat waiting room is lawyer's office lite - with hardwood floors, high-backed wicker chairs, frilly curtains and a cat motif throughout. Tiny iron cats with brass bells are mounted on one wall. The soothing voices of staff members drift through the open door.
In addition to its upscale ambience, Southern Hills offers evening hours Monday through Thursday and is open all day Saturday.
"Our practice grew exponentially, just from having those longer hours," said Thornton, who owns the clinic with her husband - a large-animal veterinarian who spends most of his time on the road. "I think that has been a real big change for this area.
"My parents never took our pets to the vet," Thornton recalled. "Back then, more people fixed it themselves. When I was younger, pets were what I call 'disposable.'"
What changed?
Thornton believes part of the difference is that people are staying in school longer, and postponing starting families.
Then, too, "I guess it's that unconditional love," Thornton said.
"I think people want to care about something."
Not all area veterinarians have jumped on the new sensitivity bandwagon - let alone begun offering grief counseling and making house calls.
Large-animal veterinarians, for example, who deal largely with farm animals, still operate in a different sphere - where decisions are made by the profit-loss ledger and hard logic.
In the world of pets, though, the trend seems clear enough.
At the Virginia-Maryland Regional College of Veterinary Medicine in Blacksburg, there is a new awareness of the importance of the relationship between people and their pets, said professor Gregory Troy.
"Curriculums don't change quickly," said Troy. "We have some lectures on the human-animal bond. ... I think it's something the profession has started to recognize."
Following the lead of the University of California at Davis and other schools, Troy and Virginia Tech psychology professor Russell Jones are working to establish a hot line to help people troubled by the death of a pet. The hot line will be available to people referred by their veterinarians in Virginia and Maryland, Troy said. It will be staffed primarily by trained students - not licensed counselors - but referrals will be made to professional counselors as needed.
"Our society has not been taught how to react to pet death," Jones believes. "They [pet owners] will be able to call, express their feelings about what the pet meant to them. Those people having elevated levels of distress will be given the opportunity to get professional counseling."
Jones, meanwhile, has been studying the relationship between pets and their owners. So deep has grown the bond between people and their pets, he believes, that there are sometimes similarities between people's grief for their dead pets and post traumatic stress disorder - the psychological turmoil suffered, most famously, by some veterans of the Vietnam War.
A few symptoms of post-traumatic stress: elevated levels of distress for a period exceeding one month; nightmares; avoiding mentioning the pet; recurring and distressing memories, and - if the pet died violently - life-like flashbacks.
Liz Erwin, a professional counselor, knows the toll the death of a pet can take on emotional health. Her cat, Aphrodite, died a year ago - after living through Erwin's divorce, her remarriage and the death of her mother. Erwin buried Aphrodite in a casket along with the kitty's pillow, her favorite mouse toy and her collar.
"The grief process was pretty tough after living with her for 13 years," Erwin said. "I expected to see her in every room of the house."
"It's important to grieve," said Erwin. Many people go through the same grieving process for a pet as they do when a family member dies, she said. "People say, `Well, gosh, it's only a dog.' But it's been your friend for 15 or 20 years."
The grieving process involves several distinct stages, Erwin said - anger, bargaining or guilt, depression - and, finally, acceptance. "To get to acceptance, you really have to make it through the other three stages first."
The increased importance of pets in people's lives can put added pressure on a veterinarian dealing with the animal's illness, some conceded.
"The hardest thing for me is the older clients," said D'Orazio, of Veterinarians to Cats. "The loss of their cats really brings home to them their own mortality. That's like a little bit of their own spirit leaving.
"I feel very responsible, because of the bond," she said, "especially with older people. It gives me more incentive to really try harder - not that I don't try anyway. It keeps this job fresh."
by CNB