My Take Tuesday: My First Surgery 

I was raised on a small farm in Castle Dale, Utah, where we kept Guernsey milk cows, Suffolk sheep, and many varieties of chickens and pheasants. My daily chores included feeding the chickens and gathering the eggs. 

One day after school, I walked into the barn that housed the chickens. The barn was divided into three equal rooms: the first held stacked straw bales, and the second and third housed the chickens and pheasants. 

That afternoon, I found our calico cat nestled with her newborn kittens near the straw stack, close to the chicken coop door. There were seven kittens in all. As an 8-year-old—and still today—I found new babies of any kind exciting. I dropped down and began counting the tiny kittens, thrilled by the discovery. 

As I handled them, however, I noticed something wasn’t right. One umbilical cord had become wrapped tightly around a leg of each kitten. If I picked up one kitten, the entire litter followed as if they were chained together. I tried to loosen the cord with my fingers, but it was far too tight. Even as a little kid, I knew something had to be done. 

At that time, Castle Dale did not have a veterinarian. The only veterinary services available came on Thursdays, when a veterinarian traveled from Richfield. It was early afternoon, and my dad would not be home from work for a couple more hours. I had to figure out what to do on my own. 

I reached into my pocket and pulled out my Swiss Army knife. It had a myriad of blades—nearly all of them unused—along with a toothpick and a small set of tweezers tucked into the handle. I opened the smallest cutting blade, bent down, and very carefully cut the umbilical cords away from each kitten. I used iodine to keep the procedure as clean as possible. 

The procedure was a success. All seven kittens survived. 

Fortunately, I no longer use my Swiss Army knife for surgeries. My surgical skills have been refined and perfected over the years, but I still carry the curiosity and passion that 8-year-old boy showed that day. I love being a veterinarian, and the satisfaction I felt long ago is repeated every time I am able to help save a life. 

I look back on that first surgical experience with fondness. It was an important milestone on the path to becoming who I am today. 

And that is my take! 

N. Isaac Bott, DVM 

I am pictured here with these kittens in 1988.