My Take Tuesday: The Llama que se llama Lloyd

It was a typical Sunday afternoon; I was taking advantage of the quiet afternoon by sitting down on the couch. The phone startled me just as I was getting to the good part of one of my favorite movies.

I hit pause as I picked up my cell phone and gave my usual salutation, “Hello, this is Dr. Bott.”

“Hey Doc! I need you to come check on my llama. He’s gone absolutely berserk!”

I could hear panic in her voice as she continued, “He just ate my blouse from the clothesline.
Yesterday, he spit right in my eye. He keeps biting Susie and Dolly, thems my other llamas, and he keeps attacking anyone that enters his pen!”

The potent potion of human personality makes taking calls like this very unpredictable, and my experience has shown that some of the most colorful of souls happen to also have llamas.

She continued, “I tried using lavender oil to calm him, but he bit my finger!”

“Oh my!” I replied.

Over time, the term “berserk” has been used rather freely to describe llamas or alpacas that deviate from the expected behavioral norm.

I could tell this client was truly terrified of the llama and needed immediate assistance.

My next questions were precise, “Is your llama male?”

She replied, “Ya’ darn tootin’ he is.”

I quickly followed up with, “Is he castrated?”

“No, we ain’t got around to it.”

In my experience, nothing will calm a crazy macho llamoid like castration. When possible, castration should be performed before the male attains puberty.

As I drove south on I-15, I reviewed in my mind the condition known as berserk llama syndrome or berserk male syndrome (as it is more pronounced in males). It is a psychological condition suffered by human-raised llamas and alpacas that can cause them to exhibit dangerously aggressive behavior towards humans. The term has been overused, however, and is sometimes inappropriately applied to llamas with aggressive personalities that are not truly “berserk”. The condition is a result of the llama imprinting on its human handlers to such a degree that it considers them to be fellow llamas. Imprinting can be caused by bottle feeding and by isolation from other llamas.

Male llamas suffering from this condition become dangerous when this behavior is directed toward humans. This behavior can be so aggressive that these males sometimes have to be euthanized.

As I turned down the road onto the farm, a large white llama could be seen running the perimeter of the pen. His vocalization, a high shrill mixed with a gurgling, guttural sound, pierced the solitude in the cab of my pickup. It was immediately obvious, that Lloyd the Llama was very upset.

Lloyd had distinctively long hair, known as fiber in llamas and alpacas, around his face. If it weren’t for his long banana shaped ears, he could easily be confused for an alpaca.
Llamas are pseudo-ruminants – they chew their cud similar to cattle. The spit that llamas produce is actually ingesta from their first stomach compartment. This foul-smelling stuff is very unpleasant. Because of my previous llama adventures, I know that it tastes horrible, and it stings when it hits your skin or eyes.

As I approached the fence to meet Mrs. Jones, I heard the unmistakable ‘Pffffffffft” that accompanies a huge ball of llama spit. Before I could react, the large gob of green nastiness spattered across my face.

Imprecations are sure to follow something like this, even from the calmest of veterinarians.

“We need to sedate Lloyd,” I explained to Mrs. Jones, “We should look at his teeth and also castrate him while he is asleep.”

Mrs. Jones had no problem with my proposed battle plan. As she stated, “Maybe he will calm down if we chop his balls off!”

For some reason, I always have giggled when a grown up speaks like this. I smiled as I filled my syringe with the Camelid Cocktail of Anesthesia.
Administering an intramuscular injection on Lloyd proved to be no easy task. Both Mrs. Jones and I received another round of llama spit and multiple kicks from his agile hind legs.

Soon Lloyd sat down and peacefully fell asleep.
As I opened his mouth, I noticed the nidus of his outbursts. His premolars, known in this species as fighting teeth, were actually growing into the sensitive skin inside his cheek.

The fix was simple, the fighting teeth were removed. As per Mrs. Jones request, he was also castrated.

Lloyd woke up a new llama. He calmly allowed Mrs. Jones to lead him back into his pen.

“That’s my boy!” She exclaimed as Lloyd rubbed his face gently on her check.

It was no short of a miracle. Lloyd wasn’t berserk, he was simply in pain.

My job as a veterinarian would be so much easier if I could have the luxury of simply asking, “Where does it hurt?”

Even though animals can’t talk, they certainly can communicate with us if we are willing and observant enough to listen.

I will never forget this important lesson that I learned from Lloyd the Llama.

And That is My Take!
N. Isaac Bott, DVM

My Take Tuesday: Black Friday

It was a beautiful Friday in late November. The animals were standing, by the thousands, crowded in the isle. The primitive fight or flight instinct had clearly pushed towards the fight response on this particular day. This mammal known as man is best avoided on the day after Thanksgiving. In years past, I stood in these massive lines just to get a good deal, after all, nothing says “America” like fighting over a TV at Walmart.

This particular Black Friday, however, was spent driving to and from farms in Utah County tending to a variety of sick animals. What began as a perfect day, quickly took a turn for the worse.

The mare’s name was Dollar. She was a beautiful sorrel. She had recently given birth to a healthy young filly. 

Shortly after foaling, she developed severe lameness in all four of her feet. Her condition quickly deteriorated, and she was barely able to walk when I arrived. To make matters worse, Dollar had developed severe colic, a term referring to abdominal pain in horses. Her intense pain was caused by gut spasms and every few minutes she would suddenly drop to the ground and roll.

Upon arrival, I performed a thorough physical examination. I then administered a mild intravenous sedative and passed a tube through her nose and into her stomach. I then pumped in a half-gallon of mineral oil.

The next treatment in a case like this is to administer a non-steroidal anti-inflammatory to help with the pain. The two most common drugs that veterinarians use in this case are phenylbutazone (commonly called Bute) and flunixin meglumine (brand name is Banamine).

For me on this particular day, I reached for a bottle of Banamine. With the needle in my right hand and the syringe in my shirt pocket, I held off the jugular vein with my left hand. Dollar didn’t flinch as I quickly slipped the needle into her vein. With dark blood slowly dripping out the needle hub, I reattached the syringe and steadied my hand against her neck. Just then, a gut spasm hit, Dollar jumped up and staggered sideways. I quickly sidestepped in an effort to remain in a position where I could inject the medicine.

Without warning, and before I had injected any appreciable amount of Banamine, she reared up on her back legs. I retracted the needle immediately and instinctively stepped backwards. The momentum of her rearing up and me pulling back made me momentarily struggle with my balance. I then pulled my right arm abruptly to the side of my body to avoid falling over. As I did so, the large bore 18-gauge needle plunged over an inch and a half straight into the right side of my abdomen. The needle entered about 6” to the right of my navel and 3” below my last rib. I felt intense pain as the needle cut through my skin, subcutaneous fat, and abdominal muscle. The hub of the needle was nestled flush against my brown Carhartt Jacket. During my split-second of inattentiveness approximately 2 ml of Banamine was injected directly into my abdominal cavity.

Immediately, I grimaced in pain. The owner of the mare looked at me as I pulled the bloody needle from my abdomen. 

“Are you ok?” he inquired, “Did you just stab yourself?”

“I sure did,” I groaned.

The pain was incredible. It was so severe, that I actually laid right down in the stall and waited for the stinging to subside. It felt as though some one was burning my abdomen with a branding iron.

After nearly a half an hour, I was able to stand up and walk back over to the mare and administer the Banamine properly. I then climbed in my truck and immediately headed to the doctor’s office.

There are some veterinary drugs which are fatal when injected into humans; fortunately for me Banamine isn’t one of them. Although it relieves pain when administered intravenously in horses, I learned that day that when administered outside a vein, the effects are the total opposite.

It stung far worse than any insect sting or abdominal pain I have experienced.

“You what?”, The doctor blurted out, “How much did you inject?”

My physician is unique. His father is a veterinarian. He was raised at a veterinary clinic and spend his youth helping his father in a general mixed-animal practice. Fortunately, he knew exactly what Banamine was and what he needed to do to treat me.

Afterwards, he laughed as he reminded me, “Hey Doc, keep that needle pointed away from you next time!”

I most certainly learned a painful lesson that Back Friday.

And that is my take.

N. Isaac Bott, DVM

My Take Tuesday: A Scar

Last year, after a long day at work, I slipped while using a knife and cut a large section of skin off the tip of my left middle finger. The pain was excruciating as I drove to the urgent care clinic. Because of the location and size of the wound, suturing it closed wasn’t an option. I was stuck wearing a large band-aid on my finger for the next few weeks. The occasional throbbing and tingling sensation reminded me throughout each day to be careful as I examined pets and went about my usual routine. I certainly have a good scar on the tip of my finger from this injury.

My left hand has been injured many times during my lifetime. Each of these injuries has left a unique scar. Each represent the best healing scenario for the injury sustained. Each scar has taught me how to deal with pain, how to be strong and each leave a detailed memory about how and when each injury happened. The most prominent of these scars is on my pointer finger. 

You can definitely see it if you look close enough, each time I extend my left hand with my palm down. It runs nearly perpendicular to the axis of my index finger.

Scars are a physical reminder of our own survival. They tell a story about places that you’ve been. They are tangible roadmaps to life’s lessons learned.

Every time I notice the scar on my finger, my mind travels back to my senior year of veterinary school in 2008. My best friends from veterinary school, Dan and Travis, were with me on this wild adventure.

It was a beautiful November day in Emmett, Idaho. The crisp fall air and dark yellow leaves of the cottonwood trees reminded me why this was my favorite time of the year.

During my last year of veterinary school, an entire month was spent at the Caine Veterinary Teaching Center in Caldwell, ID. This provided hands on training in a variety of agricultural species. Our days were spent on massive dairy operations, in the classroom and at livestock auctions.

On this particular day the sale yard was full. Cattle of every breed, gender and size were being sold and sorted through the sale barn.

My tasks were simple: 1) Vaccinate the females between 4-10 months of age. 2) Diagnose pregnancy in adult females. 3) An occasional bull calf would also need to be castrated.

Often cattle are sold because of their disposition. Wild, aggressive and flighty cattle are difficult to handle. Studies have shown a lower pregnancy rate among beef cattle that are flighty. Farmers are quick to cull cows that exhibit these traits. Therefore, wild and crazy cattle are prevalent at a livestock auction. Extreme care must be taken to avoid injury.

Facilities to process cattle make all of the difference for a veterinarian. It is very dangerous to attempt to process cattle in a rickety old squeeze chute. Unfortunately, too many sale barns have cattle handling facilities that leave much to be desired.

A black Angus calf entered the chute. I had castrated many calves before this and was very comfortable with the procedure. To facilitate castration, I entered the squeeze chute behind the calf. I reached down and made an incision. The calf immediately jumped and kicked. His right hind leg hit my right hand with incredible accuracy. The knife, still held securely in my right hand, plunged downward. The blade entered the index finger of my left hand, right between the first and second knuckles. The blade sank deep, and only stopped as it hit the bone in my finger.

The pain was immediate. I quickly exited the chute, holding my left hand tightly. Blood poured down my hand and dropped on the ground. The professor asked, “What happened?”

“I cut myself,” I responded.

As I stepped away from the squeeze chute, I glanced down at my finger. The open wound gushed blood. I immediately became lightheaded and nearly fainted as I stumbled to the truck.

I wrapped my finger tightly and headed to the nearest urgent care clinic. The throbbing pain seems to peak with each heartbeat.

After a couple hours and a few sutures, I was back at the sale yard. The remainder of the day went smoothly.

I will forever carry a reminder of that November day in Emmett, Idaho. Although time tends to color our memories optimistically, I still remember the painful lesson I learned that day.

Such is life. The ups and downs leave us battered and scarred. But with time, things get better. The pain won’t always be there and someday we will look back at each scrape and scratch and be reminded that scars are beautiful.

And that is my take!

N. Isaac Bott, DVM

My Take Tuesday: Airport Security

I tend to be very careful and cautious in my decision making. Most days are uneventful and pass smoothly. However, every once in a while, I will have one of those epic days where I make 4 bad decisions before 9:00 AM.

They say hindsight is 20/20. Looking back, it was clearly a mistake.

I hurriedly prepared my luggage, assuring that everything would fit in a carry on. I have a perfect record, in all of my travels I have never had my luggage lost. Taking a single carry-on bag is the only way to assure your luggage gets to your destination on international flights.

The destination this trip, was the Philippines, and it was my first trip to Asia. I had been called to travel there to assist in establishing both Water Buffalo and deer reproduction programs in this far away country.

I placed my required instruments, long forceps and miscellaneous items used for freezing semen delicately in my bag. The last piece of equipment was something called an electro-ejaculator.

In the practice of veterinary medicine, it is common to collect semen from domestic ruminants using electro-ejaculation.

This instrument is an electric probe that is inserted into the rectum of an animal, adjacent to the prostate gland. The probe delivers an AC voltage, usually 12–24 volts. The probe is activated for 1–2 seconds, referred to as a stimulus cycle. Ejaculation usually occurs after 2–3 stimulus cycles. The instrument fits in your hand and runs on a traditional 9 volt battery, the exact battery most smoke alarms use. It is a valuable tool when collecting semen from agricultural and wild animals.

It fit, without a problem, in my suitcase.

Salt Lake City International Airport was busy on this particular day. The lines extended over the sky bridge and nearly to the parking garage.

I passed through the metal detector and my bag went through the usual belt driven scanner. As I waited for my bag to come out, the operator of the scanner lowered his head and spoke into his mouthpiece. What he said was inaudible, but the response it triggered was anything but quiet.

I was circled by at least 10 TSA agents and hurried off to the far right end of the security entrance. If there ever was a suspicious item, this was it.

A tall gruff man asked, “Sir, do you have any prohibited items in your bag?”

Now clearly, they know the answer to this question before they ask it. On a prior trip, I had left a small pocket knife in my bag. They asked the same thing, and I had completely forgot it was in my bag.

My answer then was, “I don’t’ think so?”

Fortunately, they allowed me to mail my pocket knife home and the delay was minimal.

Clearly today it was not going to be as easy.

“I have a medical device called an electro-ejaculator in my bag”, I tried to explain.

One of the TSA workers removed the device. Clearly red flags were raised, and rightly so. Here is an electronic device with a push button, a red light and metal tongs protruding from the probe.

The gruff man demanded, “What is this and why do you have it?”

“It is used to collect semen from animals,” I explained, “you insert this end in the rectum and push this button. It then applies current over the prostate, and ejaculation occurs.”

The gruff man’s face went from viable anger to disgust in less than two seconds.

“What? Ewwwww!!! Are you serious?”, he continued, “Why would you ever do that to an animal?”

“I am a veterinarian”, I explained, “And my expertise is in animal reproduction.”

“Wow kid, I thought my job was tough,” he replied, laughing this time.

Fortunately for me, the device was labeled as such and my story was collaborated. I was allowed to pass.

En route to Manila, we stopped in Narita, Japan. Even though it was just a connecting flight, I had to pass through a security line once again before continuing on to the Philippines. Once again, a huge mess unfolded as I tried to explain in English why I would have such a dangerous looking device in my bag.

There are a couple dozen airport security officers around the world who now know, albeit unwillingly, what an electro-ejaculator is and how it is used.

After an eventful and productive stay in the Philippines, I entered the airport in Manilla, excited to be going home. As I stepped up to the counter, the ticket agent asked, “Sir, do you have any bags you would like to check?”

“Yes, I sure do”, I quickly replied.

I made my way to the gate and sat down to await my flight. I was relieved that I didn’t have to once again explain what was in my luggage. It appeared my trip home would be uneventful.

All of the sudden, over the loud speaker I hear the following announcement, “Passenger Nathan Isaac Bott, please report to the security desk immediately!”…………

And that is my take.

N. Isaac Bott, DVM

My Take Tuesday: Halloween

I love this time of year! The cool fall breeze, the crisp chill to the air, the brilliant, gilded glory of the golden aspen and cottonwood leaves, the deep red of the sugar maple and scrub oak bushes all bring out the best of nature’s canvas and bring a profound sense of relaxation to my senses. With all of the sadness in the world today, we are in desperate need of a new beginning, a comforting time to reset, a beauty that comes around every year in the form of autumn. 

This is the season of the harvest moon, pumpkins, football games and corn mazes. The smell of the first fire in a wood burning stove, and the taste of hot apple cider all create an olfactory bonanza and take me back to days of long ago. I think about my childhood, pumpkin pie, Halloween carnivals at Castle Dale Elementary, and the magic in a young boy’s hopes and dreams.

Nostalgia can be like a fun-house mirror, so any claims that “back in my day, we went trick-or-treating until midnight,” while kids these days are forced to make do with half an hour of highly supervised trick-or-treating before sunset, are surely a benign distortion.

Still, it seems like the tradition of going door-to-door demanding candy is not quite what it used to be. Over the past couple of years, as Halloween has come and gone, large “trunk or treating” events (in which community members circle up their cars, fling their trunks open, decorate them, and fill them with candy, and then have their kids make the rounds in a parking lot) have slowly replaced the door-to-door adventures I so fondly recall. 

I remember one year especially well. The late October wind was serene and tranquil as the bold orange sun faded into the seemingly empty autumn evening sky west of Ferron, Utah. Crisp shades of red, yellow, and orange from fallen leaves, formed a thin layer over the verdant lawns of the neighborhood.

I set out with my friend Jake Bulkley on an epic trick-or-treat adventure in the small town of Ferron, Utah. I remember walking along 500 South carrying brightly colored plastic buckets filled with what seemed like endless supplies of Sour Patch Kids, Jaw Breakers, Lemon Heads, Candy Corn and Reese’s Peanut Cups. We felt like we had a successful candy haul until Jake’s younger sisters arrived home carrying pillowcases filled to the brim with candy. They had followed the exact same route, but somehow ended up with ten-fold the amount of candy. It was at the moment that I realized that trick or treating was for children younger than me. Jake and I decided our time would be better spent doorbell ditching and performing other typical teenage boy pranks. Jake and I still laugh to this day about our mischievous fall adventures we had while attending San Rafael Junior High.

Halloween for me is still filled with unpredictable adventures. As a veterinarian, I encounter more black cats than the average person. October 31st is always a busy day at Mountain West Animal Hospital. Although this is a fun holiday for us, Halloween can be precarious for our four-legged family members. Keeping our pets safe is a year-round job, requiring special attention during the holidays and special occasions. Pets chew up and eat things humans never would think of consuming. Here are a few pointers to keep your pets safe this Halloween:

1. Don’t feed your pets Halloween candy, especially if it contains xylitol (a common sugar substitute found in sugar-free candies and gum); or chocolate. 

2. Make sure your pet is properly identified (microchip, collar and ID tag) in case s/he escapes through the open door while you’re distracted with trick-or-treaters.

3. Keep lit candles and jack-o-lanterns out of reach of pets.

4. If you plan to put a costume on your pet, make sure it fits properly and is comfortable, doesn’t have any pieces that can easily be chewed off, and doesn’t interfere with your pet’s sight, hearing, breathing, opening its mouth, or moving. Take time to get your pet accustomed to the costume before Halloween, and never leave your pet unsupervised while he/she is wearing a costume.

5. Keep glow sticks and glow jewelry away from your pets. Although the liquid in these products isn’t likely toxic, it tastes really bad and makes pets salivate excessively and act strangely.

6. If your pet is wary of strangers or has a tendency to bite, put him/her in another room during trick-or-treating hours or provide him/her with a safe hiding place.

7. Keep your pet inside. This is the easiest way to keep them safe.

Have a safe and fun Halloween!

And that is my take!

N. Isaac Bott, DVM

My Take Tuesday: The Deluxe Fish Hotel

A few years back, I spent a day deep sea fishing with some of my best friends in the Gulf of Mexico. We traveled nearly 80 miles from Venice, Louisiana, out into the deep ocean. We were fishing for Yellowfin Tuna.

I found it interesting that our fishing guide knew right where to go. Instead of fishing in the deep open ocean, we spent the day fishing near a number of large man made oil rigs. Fish, it turns out, are turning the underwater portions of the rigs into the equivalent of apartment towers. They congregate in the masses near these huge man made structures. Smaller fish seek these rigs out for protection, while larger predator species stay close by to consume these large quantities of smaller fish that hide near the base of the structure.

The main reason, apparently, is the rig superstructures stretch all the way from the surface to the sea floor and thus provide a huge area that becomes the undersea equivalent of a tall building. The platform structures support a diverse community of invertebrates that, along with floating resources such as plankton, provide the base of the food web supporting fish associated with the platform.

For decades, scientists have studied why life is so abundant near these abandoned oil rigs. One researcher surveyed 16 rigs annually over a 15-year period, and found that they hosted 10 times the amount of fish as other natural marine environments around the world, such as reefs and estuaries. The California rigs even had seven times the aquatic population of the rich ecosystems around reefs in the south Pacific.

Even the natural habitat with the greatest fish density — a coral reef in French Polynesia — was nowhere near as populated as the oil rigs that were studied.

This study shows that man-made structures actually can enhance natural habitats.

The 2010 Deepwater Horizon oil spill disaster in the Gulf of Mexico made us all a lot more wary of the environmental impacts of offshore oil exploration. This study gives us another perspective on how man made structures can benefit certain ecosystems and enhance natural habitats.

This insight is adding momentum to efforts to convert some of these rigs into artificial reefs once they are decommissioned. Blue Latitudes, an organization founded in 2014 by two young scientists, is trying to increase awareness of the value of rigs as permanent homes for sea life.

I am not advocating an increase in deep sea drilling, but it would certainly be a good idea to figure out what specific features of these structures help fish to flourish, and then use this information to help enhance these endangered ecosystems.

And that is my take.

N. Isaac Bott, DVM

My Take Tuesday: Veterinary Technician Appreciation Week

Being in the veterinary industry is hard work. Every day in filled with ups and down, happiness and sadness, and life and death situations. We end each workday exhausted and worn out emotionally.

Since our patients cannot speak for themselves, we spend a great deal of time communicating with their human owners. To an extent we are treating owners as much as patients. This requires a level of genuine empathy and professionalism that few people possess.

Behind every good veterinarian is a team of hard-working, caring individuals invested in the task of helping people help their pets. I am fortunate to be surrounded by a wonderful team at Mountain West Animal Hospital.

If you’ve ever experienced an emergency with your pets’ health or safety, you know how meaningful it is to have a knowledgeable and compassionate professional to care for them!

Veterinary technicians are the unsung heroes of your pet’s veterinary care team. Without these devoted professionals, my office would be a sea of chaos and confusion. These highly trained individuals do everything from greeting clients and answering phones to restraining pets, drawing blood, taking radiographs, assisting with surgical procedures, filling prescriptions, comforting grieving pet owners, and cleaning kennels.

I simply cannot get through the day without my dedicated team at Mountain West Animal Hospital. They provide the individualized care and compassion that make our clinic so unique.

Most people do not realize the emotional toll this job can take. They don’t see us crying after we euthanize a patient we have treated for years. They don’t see the hard work that goes on behind the scenes. They don’t know what it’s like caring for a pet who is suffering near death and the triumph of pulling it back from that edge and going on to live several more years. They don’t see the mistreated or neglected pets that so often walk through our doors.

They don’t know about the scars and scratches, bumps and bruises, sore muscles and back pain. They don’t know about the blood, diarrhea and vomit that they daily clean up.

There are many heroes that never stand in the spotlight, never hear the roar of the crowd and never receive the recognition they deserve.

Pictured are four of my heroes. They are my right hand and my left. They work in a high-stress environment, putting in long hours, caring for ill and anxious pets, cleaning messes, and putting themselves at risk of physical harm. They do this because they care. They care about each of our clients and their four-legged family members. Thank you for putting your health and safety on the line to help increase mine. Thank you for being such amazing advocates for our patients and for being such an incredible support system for our veterinarians and our clients.

This week is National Veterinary Technician Appreciation Week.

Katie is our full time licensed Veterinary Technician. Jordan is our office manager. Jay and Sara are our veterinary assistants. They are the who make it possible Dr. LeMonds, Dr. King, Dr. Davis and I to perform our tasks seamlessly.

Please join me in thanking these girls for the wonderful work they do at Mountain West Animal Hospital.

They are amazing!

And that is my take!

N. Isaac Bott, DVM

My Take Tuesday: Community

It was a cold mid-February day on the Palouse. I had traveled to Pullman this day for an interview at Washington State University. My chances were slim. I was applying for a nonresident position in the College of Veterinary Medicine’s class of 2009. My palms began to sweat as questions were asked about my qualifications and application. Organic Chemistry. Yeah, I had received my lowest grade in this class during undergrad and knew that I would be asked about it. I did my best to answer the question in a satisfactory manner. 

The next question was unexpected. 

“Isaac, what purpose does a veterinarian serve in a community?”

I paused as I thought about this inquiry. 

My mind returned to my teenage years when I served on the Youth City Council for the small town of Castle Dale, UT. This rewarding time allowed me to give back to the community that formed so much of who I am today. 

My answer was as follows: “A veterinarian has the obligation to be an example and a good citizen. The amount of good accomplished through this entirely depends on the effort a veterinarian puts into the community. Effort is reciprocated many times over when someone donates their time and talents through community service.” 

I promised that, if I were lucky enough to become a veterinarian, I would do my best to give back to the community that I reside and practice in.  

They apparently accepted this answer and a few months later I began veterinary school.

I have done my best to keep the promise I made in that interview nearly 19 years ago. I have grown to love Springville, the surrounding Utah Valley community and enjoy running my own small business. I look forward to coming to work each day.

Several years ago, I began volunteering at local rescues and animal shelters through a variety of services. One service is providing low-cost vaccination and licensing clinics in local communities. We have been able to provide vaccines for over 1000 pets in Utah County this year alone. This requires us to close the clinic over a dozen Saturdays we would normally work. Despite this, we are extremely grateful for our understanding clients that remain loyal without this periodic Saturday availability. 

I also have helped train Animal Control Officers and animal shelter employees from all over the state the technique of humane euthanasia. This requires both in-class and hands-on training to properly learn to administer intramuscular and intravenous injections. 

These opportunities have been so rewarding for me! I very much enjoy getting to know all of the people that dedicate their lives to caring for those without a voice. The immense joy that I have felt volunteering my time has rejuvenated my passion for veterinary medicine and has helped my become a more patient, kind and caring person. 

Earlier this year, I was invited to speak at the annual conference for the Utah Animal Control Officer Association. An awards banquet was held in the evening of the opening day of the conference. I was completely surprised to receive the association’s 2023 Volunteer of the Year Award.

This award is something that I am very proud of. It has been such an honor for me to work with such wonderful people. From my team at Mountain West Animal Hospital to every single animal control officer and shelter employee, I thank you for your often overlooked efforts that you make every single day. Many of the lives you change are the animals that you care for. You make the world a better place and I salute you for it. 

Volunteering your time to support a cause you are passionate about is something you will never regret. It will enrich your life, familiarize you with your community, and connect you to people and ideas that will positively impact your perspective for the rest of your life. Helping your community is an opportunity for you to grow as a person and to better understand how you fit into the world around you.

I am excited for the future and for further opportunities to be able to share my knowledge and expertise with this wonderful community. I am my happiest when I am helping others. 

I encourage everyone to consider serving the community in your respective spheres of influence. It is something that will provide you with unparalleled contentment and sense of purpose. 

And that is my take!

N. Isaac Bott, DVM

My Take Tuesday: The Disgruntled Veterinarian

Veterinarians are some of the most kind and compassionate people on the planet. They are hard workers, and are some of the best people I have ever met.

As with any profession, there are occasional outliers.

When considering the prospect of attending veterinary school, I visited a veterinary clinic, here in Utah County, one day as an undergraduate.

I introduced myself to the veterinarian and asked a little about his experience as a veterinarian. As soon as I began asking questions about which veterinary school to attend, he interrupted me.

“Hey kid, why do you want to be a veterinarian?”, he asked.

I gave the answer I had given so many times. I replied, “Because I love working with animals. I also like working with people and this profession will allow me to help people by helping their animals.”

“What are you? You stupid #%$@>?”, he continued, “What are you going to do when those animals you love bite you and kick you? And what about those people that do not respect you and your expertise and expect you to work miracles? They are far from loyal and they couldn’t care less about you! Get a life kid. This ain’t for you!”

Wow! I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Here was a veterinarian that was clearly dissatisfied with life in general.

After years of grueling work and what he deemed as little professional reciprocity, he had become very cynical. He made it very clear, anyone wanting to be a veterinarian was making a huge mistake. His goal was to dissuade any would be veterinarian that entered the doors of his practice from making the same mistake he did.

To put is delicately, this guy was the east end of a horse facing west.

Looking back, I feel sorry for him. My experience as a veterinarian has been the complete opposite.

The clients I work with are very loyal. My interactions with them are nearly all positive and they love their pets. They follow my recommendations and are always willing to provide the care that their pets need and deserve.

I am glad I did not heed his advice.

Mark Twain eloquently counseled, “Keep away from people who try to belittle your ambitions. Small people always do that, but the really great make you feel that you, too, can become great.”

I am thankful for those who encouraged me. Who supported me. Who believed in me long before I believed in myself.

Their contributions have led me to where I am today.

And That is My Take

N. Isaac Bott, DVM

My Take Tuesday: Yo quiero bite you!

Often “the question” comes up during a routine appointment. Curiosity is naturally sparked with my response.

The question is, succinctly put, “Doc, what breed of dog bites you the most?”

The answer is unequivocally the chihuahua. Of the dozens of bites that I have received, a vast majority came from chihuahuas.

Chihuahuas are comical, entertaining, and loyal little dogs, absolutely brimming with personality – often a quirky and eccentric personality unmatched by any other breed.

Some of my sweetest patients are chihuahuas. They are affectionate and loving.

But every once in a while, a mean one comes along.

While a bite from a Chihuahua isn’t going to inflict the same damage as a bite from a larger dog like a Vizsla or a Boxer, it can still leave a painful wound that’s prone to infection. There’s an old myth that a dog’s mouth is cleaner than a human’s mouth, but this isn’t true. Whenever a pet bites, there is significant risk of infection.

While Chihuahuas are not naturally more aggressive than any other breed, they seem to be prone to react with aggression out of fear. Veterinarians are often the target of such aggression, simply because dogs are fearful of unfamiliar people and situations.

As a recent graduate, I was learning how to diagnose, treat and cure the routine cases that present daily. I had only been a veterinarian for about a month when I learned my lesson.

It was a routine appointment. Annual vaccinations and a wellness exam were needed. As I entered the room, Chispa, sat on the table glaring at me. As I reached down to auscultate the heart and lungs, Chispa absolutely went ballistic. Within 5 seconds, she had peed and soiled all over the tabletop. Instinctively, I reached for a muzzle. As I attempted to place the muzzle on her, she absolutely lost it.

Just like a loud clap of thunder that follows a flash of lightning; when I am bit by a dog, imprecations are sure to follow.

Chispa sunk her needle like teeth into my right hand and bit me again and again.

Before I could even mutter the phrase, “Oh S#*!”, this little devil had bitten me three times.

Her only goal seemed to be to inflict as much damage as possible to the man in a white coat that was reaching for her.

Blood poured down my hand. I sat stunned. I have fast reflexes; after all, I dodge bites and scratches on a daily basis.

What was different about this experience? Perhaps it was in the name. “Chispa” is a Spanish word meaning “spark”. Certainly, the fiery personality and name fit this small canine.

The rapidity of the attack taught me a lesson. I am much more careful now when dealing with seemingly innocent small pets. I do my best to reduce the fear and anxiety that accompanies a visit to the veterinarian.

And I am especially careful with pets that have incendiary names such as Diablo, Fuego, Demonio, Pyro, Hades, and believe it or not, Fluffy.

And that is my take!

N. Isaac Bott, DVM