I was at my weekly visit to the veternary's office to get my Lhasa Apso’s ear cleaned (Simba has been having a non-curable ear infection due to old age). I overheard doctor Rana discussing an x-ray with a dog owner. The owner was about 6 feet tall and pot-bellied. He was wearing office clothes and appeared well kept. From the corner of my eye, I noticed Dr. Rana pointing wildly at the x-ray sheet, in an attempt to graphically express what the problem was. At this point Simba was on the clinic’s table getting his ear flushed out by another doctor.
There was never anything to see at the vet’s office except for the usual; dog’s having a broken leg, an infection, a wound somewhere. However I think what attracted me about the pot-bellied man was the fact that he had come to the clinic without his dog; with just an x-ray. A situation like this would usually be very serious. Maybe the dog had had a major accident and was in a fatal condition to be transported? I eavesdropped because the conversation seemed interesting.
Dr. Rana did not seem his usual self either. He’s usually very direct about the condition the dog is in. “He has a growth in his ear that has partially been eaten away by maggots” he had said to me the first time we discovered Simba’s ear infection. He paced quietly trying to formulate his next sentence. “What is the problem Doctor?” the man asked apprehensively. After much thought, Dr. Rana finally revealed the problem. “Your dog has cancer and I’m afraid it is not curable. The bacteria is eating away his bones.”There was a long, uncomfortable pause. Everyone in the clinic was focused on their work but the room seemed to have an awkward silence. Even though I didn’t know the man or his dog I couldn’t help but sympathize with them. “How long does he have?” the owner said. At this point I was hoping for a miracle or at the very least a few months. “Maybe two, maximum three weeks” Dr. Rana corrected my thought. I had only heard of such statements in movies and that too regarding humans. Experiencing it in reality was very different.
My eavesdropping was interrupted by the doctor attending Simba. “He’s done. You can take him now. Remember to keep putting his ear drops regularly” the doctor advised me as I carried him off the table. While I was at the reception handing over the money I tried to grasp whatever little I could of the remaining conversation. “So what can be done now?” said the man. “Since he’s in a lot of pain you can either put him down now or… wait until he naturally deteriorates” said Dr. Rana, as I left the crowded clinic. I had spent all of five minutes inside the clinic but that conversation made it seem like much much longer.
