Out of the Starting Gate

Follow the journey of Dr. Jennifer Selvig as she experiences the ups, downs and surprises of life as a new equine veterinarian.

Fail July 26, 2010 By Jennifer Selvig, DVM

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I love failblog.org. If you haven’t checked out this Web site (or any of its affiliates, such as friendsofirony.com and thereifixedit.com), take a minute to peruse some of the pictures, signs, and video clips illustrating how many people or groups of people simply fail at life. (One of its sister sites, “icanhazcheezburger.com,” features mostly pictures of cats and kittens that have been captioned in a stylistic way. They are known as “lolcats” in cyber-speak. But I digress – you’ll just need to check out the site to get it if you don’t know what I’m talking about.)

My friends and I love to call a “fail” when something just doesn’t work out the way it’s supposed to, or when someone does or says something so incredibly dumb that it constitutes an “epic fail.” I find myself calling “fail” when a client does something that is simply not recommended, dangerous, silly or downright stupid. Take the following examples.

1)     I recently did a pre-purchase exam for a potential reining horse that was lame on its right front going in a circle to the right. I recommended diagnostics, radiographs, etc. All were declined as it was “only a minor lameness” and neither the buyer nor seller had “ever felt it before.” I recently found out that the sale was made and the new owner has an appointment with at their local vet clinic regarding a right front lameness. I told you so? FAIL.

2)     Not too long ago I did a lameness workup on a trail horse that blocked easily to a low PD nerve block. I’m talking 95% improvement. I recommended radiographs of the foot as the first form of imaging. The owners asked me if I was sure that was correct, and wondered if the lameness could be coming from the shoulder. Comprehending diagnostics FAIL.

3)     Several months ago I was called out to tranquilize a horse that was having trouble loading (I think I may have blogged about it, actually). This horse, along with 3 others, was being moved to a new training facility. I recently found out that the owners moved several hours away, hadn’t seen the horses for 3 months and when they went to visit them found them to be nearly starved to death. Mind you, the bad-loading horse had a body condition score of at least 7/9 when I saw her. The owners got 3 of the 4 horses moved quickly but left the worst one there to be picked up in a few days. Why not take the worst-looking one off the property first? Why leave your horses with a strange person and not check in for 3 months? Responsible ownership FAIL.

4)     When I was a vet student, we had a very, um, witchy mare in for an annular ligament desmotomy. She was difficult to wrap even under sedation. When she was ready to be discharged, we had an appointment with her owner, during which we were to show her how to do the bandage changes and how to give her medications. The owner, a California Valley Girl-lookalike, showed up in short-shorts, wedge open-toed sandals, about 5 pounds of makeup and large hoop earrings. I’m really not sure how that all ended up, but I’m sure it involved some black-and-blue toes. Appropriate footwear FAIL.

5)     I took a phone call from a former client of our clinic who had moved up north and was out of our practice range. She had a question about her horse’s hoof abscess. Apparently the horse was very lame and the farrier said it was probably an abscess. So after the requisite speech about how I can’t diagnose your horse over the phone blah blah blah, I started explaining the treatment for hoof abscesses. “It helps if you can soak it in warm water and Epsom salts for 20 minutes each day,” I said. “Oh, there’s no way she’ll stand in the water. She’ll freak out,” the owner said. “OK, well, you could just use MagnaPaste all over the foot and put a wrap on it if you really can’t soak it,” I replied. “Oh, she doesn’t like anyone messing with her feet. She’s terrible about it,” said the owner. “Well, it’s going to be hard to treat a HOOF abscess if she won’t let you do anything with her HOOF,” I tried to say politely. I stopped short of telling her to go get her magic wand and fairy dust and try that method. FAIL.

I’m sure I’m forgetting many excellent epic owner fails. Someday I’ll remember to write them down. For now I will continue shaking my head. I suppose I should look on the bright side: Epic Fail = Job Security.

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