An open letter to all pet parents and to veterinarians

nakaklungkot isispin may mga taong biniyayan ng kakayanang manggamot..
kaya lang walang puso upang gamitin ito sa tama..
to tell you the truth,I had once,dreamt to ba an animal doctor..
kaya lang I think I'm not in line to be one.

Our beloved pooch Elmo died exactly two months ago from today.

Must be the feast of the patron saint of animals that jolted me out of my quiet mourning; or maybe I'm more accepting now of the fact that our first baby had really gone. Whichever it was, I've somehow awakened from my deep slumber and I'm finally able to write. For Elmo. Or better yet, for all the pet parents and their beloved companions out there.

To this very day my eyes still well up with tears. Elmo's passing was quiet and unceremonious, and filled with so much pain. We knew his body was being eaten away by cancer, but we also knew he could have surpassed it. There was a good chance for him to have survived. If only we had the proper help.

You see, this is the problem that perhaps hundreds of dedicated pet parents face today. We could have easily accepted Elmo's death if it weren't for the heart-crushing circumstances that I couldn't even begin to write here.

But this I have to say: Medical care for animals leaves much to be desired here in our country. And think again if you say we are in a worse situation. Because medical equipment can always be bought, or donated, but veterinarians—those who will give your companion animals the adequate medical attention they truly deserve—are the hardest to find.

It's bad enough not to have the medical equipment. It's worse if the veterinarian doesn't care at all. We've experienced it first hand. Witnessed how our dog's spirit wilted away in pain as he was made to wait for a week before he could go to surgery. We ran back and forth clinics to get the lab tests, the X-rays, blood work, blood matching for transfusions—all that was needed. I took a salary loan for the surgery and forthcoming chemo bills. I called all the animal doctors I knew; went to 6; consulted with a radiology expert; spent sleepless nights researching on the net. We pushed and pushed. To no avail.

We could only do so much as devote our time, use up our savings, religiously follow a medication schedule, and hope for the best. At the end of the day, the life of our baby rested on the hands of the animal doctor that we prayed would give as much attention, care and treatment that he deserved.

But as we had been wrong, and everything turned for the worse, we could only wish that this doesn't happen to others. Most especially to those who take animal parenting seriously; and those who don't see their pets as mere creatures, trophies, or show animals, but as beloved members of the family who are equally worthy of respect, devotion, trust and love.

Yes, we live in a third-world country, whose inadequate resources should be geared towards providing for human needs. But I beg to disagree with those who say that we shouldn't concern ourselves too much with the issue of our pet's right—and our right—to demand for proper animal medical care. Living in the third-world doesn't mean we have to live, think, and act third-world. Being a third-world citizen shouldn't make us less compassionate, less civilized, less human.

And so to all veterinarians who might be reading this, I am speaking in behalf of all pet parents who demand your 199% when we have entrusted you the care of our dearly loved companions. These are what we would like you to think over. Because as most of you have `consumerized' your practice, do know that we have also turned out to become a wiser, bolder, and a more well-informed market.

Veterinary medicine is a science, a profession, and above all, a vocation. You are healers, not casters of death sentence. We hope you are in this profession for your inherent desire to put animals out of their illness and suffering, and possibly discover more ways of improving their health. Please don't see our companions as sheer number for you to cash in on, because if you have unnecessarily billed us or prescribed excessive medications, we are bound to find out sooner or later.

As doctors of animals, you are even the best ambassadors they could ever have. Because you have the full knowledge, appreciation, and the closest idea of what's going on inside their bodies. You have the power to speak on their behalf, and to tell us what they need. You knew veterinary medicine has never been a lucrative profession in this country, so you must have wanted to serve a more altruistic purpose, or you must be plain and simple, an animal advocate. We hope you will put your knowledge to serve the vocation you've chosen.

Tell us if you don't know. Your honesty will be highly appreciated. We understand that you won't have the answers to everything all the time. There are specializations in your field, after all. So tell us. And if you could recommend someone whom you know could offer a much more concrete diagnosis, please refer us. You might lose a patient in this instance, but your honesty would earn our trust. And we would still have you in mind for other pet care concerns.

Give us options. Don't tell us right away to put down our dear companions. We know for a fact that options are endless in this day and age of modern and alternative medicine. Even if you think we wouldn't afford it, we would still like to know. Lay down the bare facts, the circumstances, the possible outcomes. We acknowledge that in some cases, putting the pet to sleep is the best option. But leave the hard part of making the decision to us.

Give justice to the commitment we've shown to our companions. We're sure you can tell us apart from those who just entrust the care of their pets to the household help. We are the ones who personally go with our babies for their checkups, vaccinations, surgeries, treatments. We are the ones who ask many questions. We are the ones who sometimes argue with your recommended treatments. We are the ones who are always paranoid over the health of their pets. So please, cut us some slack. Give us the blow by blow description of what could be wrong. Take time to explain.

Invest in equipment. If you can afford it, please do. You'd be surprised at how much we would be willing to spend just to ensure our companions don't get wounded from your rusty X-ray machines, or fall off from those narrow and cold metal tables. Why not pool resources for modern laboratory machines? A sterile surgery room perhaps? Trust that you would see us in line.

Have a heart. Show sympathy. Have compassion. After everything else is said and done, this is what we and our animal companions need from you—and badly. Don't tell us we have to postpone an important surgery for a week because you're attending a weekend birthday party. Never, ever be late for a crucial blood test when you know we need the results right away. And we will appreciate it if you call us asking how your patient is doing, or how you are one with us in our loss. Any show of compassion, of sympathy, is more than enough show of support for a worried sick, or a grieving pet parent.

This is after all, what makes you doctors, healers, superhumans. You can treat your patients and at the same time show compassion. Of you, much is expected because you have been entrusted with a gift. And we hope you will use it well, for the betterment of animal medical care in this country.

Terrie

Oct. 4, 2008