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By Kim Campbell ThorntonPet owners, and people in general, tend to ignore problems until they become too troublesome to ignore. It’s human nature to put off dealing with things if we’re not sure how to proceed or think it will be too much work. If you live in an area that’s prone to thunderstorms, though, you can help clients stave off pet fears and phobias before they become serious.

“Veterinarians should routinely ask clients about their pets’ responses to storms,” says Pamela Perry, DVM, a behavior resident at Cornell University College of Medicine in Ithaca, New York.

Ask clients what happens during a thunderstorm. Does the cat hide? The dog tremble? Those mild fears can worsen over several thunderstorm seasons. Waiting to treat them can make the problem that much more difficult to manage. Be preemptive and recommend treatment promptly, while signs are still at the subtle stage.

“They might be coming in for something totally unrelated to storm phobia, but they mention that the dog is fearful during storms or that their other dog at home has storm phobia,” says veterinary behaviorist Lore Haug, who practices in Sugar Land, Texas. “I’m like, ‘You need to get on top of that right away.’”

Suggestions can be as simple as suggesting setting up a safe room or getting the pet a snug-fitting wearable that may have a calming effect.

Know how to advise clients on setting up a safe room. It can be a small guest bath or closet with no windows, a basement, or something as simple as a crate with a cover thrown over it. Their pet may choose his own safe space, such as inside the bathtub. Wherever it is, it should be ready and available at any time.

Clients should encourage pets to go there by placing a stuffed Kong or treat-filled puzzle toy in the room daily so the animal knows that good things happen in that room. Remind clients never to close the pet in the room or crate, which can create a feeling of being trapped. If owners know a storm is expected during a time they won’t be home, they should prepare the room by putting a long-lasting treat or favorite toy in it, turning on a white noise machine or other noise blocker, and plugging in a pheromone diffuser.

Be familiar with product options for pets fearful of storms. Calming clothing includes Thundershirts, Storm Defender Capes, Anxiety Wraps, Mutt Muffs, and Calming Caps. Depending on the product, they fit snugly on the body, providing soothing pressure; reduce storm-related static charges; or limit the pet’s exposure to scary storm-related sights and sounds such as lightning and thunder. Recommend drowning out storm sounds with white noise machines, the whirr of a box fan, or relaxing music such as Through A Dog’s Ear or Through A Cat’s Ear. Certain nutraceuticals and pet foods contain soothing ingredients such as l-theanine, caseins, L-tryptophan, and B vitamins and are marketed for pets with storm-related fears.

“Resources like that are easy for owners to implement and don’t require a huge behavior modification program,” Dr. Haug says.

Finally, be familiar with the client’s lifestyle and environment. If medication is needed, that information will help you determine the best choice for that particular animal.

“Make a choice about the effect you want to have happen, what medication fits with that, and how it can work in the owner’s lifestyle,” says veterinary behaviorist Lisa Radosta, who practices in West Palm Beach, Florida.

For instance, some owners are in and out but have a flexible schedule that allows them to premedicate a pet if a storm is in the forecast. For that owner, Radosta says, “I’m going to send her home with Sileo because that works fast and she’s generally going to be home to administer it.” For owners who are gone all day, she might suggest long-lasting clonazepam or gabapentin.

“Make a choice,” she says. “Don’t just throw a drug at it because you like it.”

This article was reviewed/edited by board-certified veterinary behaviorist Dr. Kenneth Martin and/or veterinary technician specialist in behavior Debbie Martin, LVT.

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By Dr. Marty BeckerSince I published the story of my personal struggle with depression and a family history of suicide–including my father, who killed himself with a shotgun–in Veterinary Economics last year, I’ve heard from hundreds upon hundreds of my fellow veterinary professionals who have faced the same struggles.

As Thanksgiving and the holiday season draw near, I can’t help but think of all of us in veterinary medicine who are feeling anything but thankful, and are overwhelmed not with feelings of good cheer, but of darkest depression.

My personal journey to becoming a veterinarian began when I was 7 years old, growing up on a dairy farm. The family vet came out to treat a fallen cow who, after one injection, rose up.

Even though my desire to be a veterinarian was sparked by that happy recovery, that memory and many like it are frequently overwhelmed by memories of death, terrible suffering, and the mistakes that we see happen in our profession every single day, year-in, year-out.

My experience of practicing veterinary medicine ranged from getting the Twin Falls, Idaho, City Shelter to shut down their gas chamber by agreeing to euthanize the animals myself; fighting to keep some kind of barrier between me and the pain of seeing animals I cared about suffer, or die–and seeing the devastating grief of their human families at their loss; the steady drumbeat of “suck it up” and “don’t think about it” and “don’t focus on all this emotional stuff” I heard so often from my bosses and colleagues.

I got the message loud and clear: Unlike physical suffering and illness, their mental and emotional counterparts were shameful, trivial, and unworthy even of acknowledgement, let alone treatment.

It was the Thanksgiving season that followed the horror of 9/11 when I first became seriously depressed. I was in my late 40s, and had just finished working on my book The Healing Power of Pets. I was sad and wanted nothing more than to sleep all the time. I was in darkness that no amount of awareness of my family history, or will power, or stern self-lectures, or prayer could lighten. That took the care of a physician and the prescription of an anti-depressant. Five years later, I needed an additional medication to keep the darkness at bay.

While clearly my family background contributed to the likelihood I’d suffer from depression, so did my profession. A recent commentary in the Journal of the American Veterinary Medical Association (JAVMA) cited a CDC survey of more than 10,000 practicing veterinarians that found we are more likely to be depressed, to suffer serious mental illness, and to attempt suicide than the general public.

In fact, frighteningly, 14.4 percent of male and 19.1 percent of female veterinarians have considered suicide, nearly three times the national average for the general population. And these numbers are consistent with those in studies of veterinary professionals around the globe, not just in the United States.

I did not found Fear Free to address the epidemic of depression and suicide in our profession; I did it to help animals. But what I found is that it also has the power to help us.

Consider these words written by the authors of that same JAVMA article I mentioned above:

Some of the reasons for the high rates of mental disorders in veterinarians include work-related stress, a lack of early detection of mental problems, access to lethal drugs associated with euthanasia, and the adverse effects of performing euthanasia.

A qualitative, interview-based study of veterinarians who had attempted suicide revealed contributing factors to be adverse relationships at work, concerns about career, issues related to patients, long hours, and heavy work-load. A cross-sectional study of work conditions for veterinarians found that the number of hours worked and professional mistakes were the chief stressors that accounted for anxiety and depression.

How much of the soul-killing stress that afflicts veterinarians and veterinary nurses is caused by working all day on patients who fear us, even hate us? How much is the result of seeing the animals we love and feel such compassion for shiver, drool, even lose control of bladder and bowels, as we try to help and heal them?

I know I became a veterinarian because I felt so connected to the soul of animals. I thought I was doing what was best for them, and it was not until the fateful day when Dr. Karen Overall ripped the bandage off the wound of my compassion that I realized I was in fact harming all the animals I thought I was helping. That horrifying realization sharpened my senses, opened my heart, and inspired the creation of Fear Free.

And it was in hearing from so many of the almost 25,000 of you who have so far enrolled in certification that I realized it isn’t just our patients who need healing through the practice of Fear Free veterinary medicine; it’s us, too.

Of course, Fear Free is not a form of therapy or medical care. Depression and suicidal ideation are real medical issues and require the care of qualified professionals. But as the JAVMA article pointed out, work stress is a massive risk factor for mental health problems and suicide in veterinarians.

Look at it this way: If I think of myself as a cup, I’m half-full–maybe even three-quarters full in my case–of risk factors related to genetics and my upbringing.

Why fill that cup the rest of the way with insufficient sleep, a lack of connectedness to my family and community, guilt, unwillingness to face my problems, and stewing every day in the fear, anxiety, and stress of the pets, pet owners, and staff I interact with professionally? Why crank up the already dangerous pressure I feel by burying feelings of burnout, compassion fatigue, depression, or worse?

After almost 40 years of veterinary practice, I still feel blessed to be part of the greatest profession on earth. I am endlessly grateful for the opportunities I have to lecture to veterinarians, veterinary nurses, and veterinary students, and to speak on behalf of the veterinary profession through the media.

But this Thanksgiving, I also know tremendous gratitude that I’m able to share this gift with each of you: That the practice of the medicine we love on the animals we love can be a healing gift to us both, and not a source of fear or suffering. That we’re part of the largest transformational initiative in the history of companion animal practice, part of healing animals, the people who love them, and ourselves.

God bless you, and have a Happy Thanksgiving, my friends.

Author’s note: If you’re experiencing depression or are contemplating suicide, please call the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline (800-273-TALK; 800-273-8255; suicidepreventionlifeline.org). It’s available 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. Whatever darkness you are facing, the good people who staff these phone lines care and will help you.

By Deb M. Eldredge, DVMSometime when it is fairly busy, take a few minutes and go out to sit in your clinic waiting room. Sit down, close your eyes and just listen. Listen carefully for little noises as well as the loud and obvious noises.

After a minute, the sounds may seem a bit overwhelming to you. Think of how much more cats and dogs hear than we do and how they don’t understand what many of the noises are. For our pets, the veterinary hospital may be a horror house of sound.

How can we help pets with sound issues to feel more comfortable at the clinic? Carpet is often used to mute sounds, but it doesn’t really make sense in a clinic where cleanliness is important. Barriers can help to block sounds, and soundproofing exams rooms is not a bad idea, although it can be expensive.

Playing background music may help some pets, but an individual pet may not like your music choices. That sounds silly but anyone who has done musical freestyle with a dog can tell you that dogs have definite opinions on music. Luckily, there are some research-backed CDs of soothing music composed specifically for dogs and/or cats. Through A Dog’s Ear, for instance, has pioneered soothing music for anxious pets. These CDs are excellent for waiting rooms, exam rooms, and kennel areas.

To really help your patients prepare for a veterinary visit or hospital stay, consider making a CD of the sounds at your clinic. Start by doing a walking tour of the clinic with one of your own pets. Begin with the sound of the door opening and closing and the sound of toenails on the floor. If the scale squeaks, catch that. Try to record the voices of all of your receptionists as well as the ringtone of your phones and your computer and printer beeps and squeaks.

Move on to the noises heard in a waiting room: doors opening and closing, laboratory equipment dinging off, refrigerator and cupboard doors opening and closing. Record the voices of your veterinary technicians, assistants and kennel help. Record some barking dogs, cage doors opening and closing, and cats meowing (or even screaming or hissing). Note any noises that your own pet reacts to. Washing machines, dryers, blow dryers, vacuums, furnaces, and air conditioners can all make noises that startle or panic an already anxious pet.

The goal is to create a CD of sounds that pet owners can take home to play for pets to accustom them to the sounds they will hear at your hospital. These are not CDs to play at your clinic but rather CDs to loan out to clients. Have them start by playing the sounds very quietly and try to pair the CD with positive things such as meals or belly rubs. If you have any clients who are breeders, loan them a copy of the CD to play for their litters so the puppies and kittens are familiar with the sounds right from the start.

Some pets will never smile about their veterinary visits. But if you can at least make the noises a pet will encounter seem routine, you will have helped reduce the pet’s fear of the veterinary clinic.

In a perfect world, Dr. Alicia McLaughlin would establish relationships with animals who have no experience with veterinary visits and thus no fears regarding them. But at the Center for Bird and Exotic Animal Medicine near Seattle, Washington, she is more likely to encounter animals who have already developed fear, anxiety, and stress (FAS) associated with the veterinary environment and physical care. Many of these animals are naturally frightened of new persons, places, and experiences, and limited socialization early in life makes it difficult for them to deal with changes that deviate from the narrow scope of what they’ve learned is normal and safe. Not surprisingly, many of the animals Dr. McLaughlin treats are already on edge before she walks into the exam room.When animals come in with preformed notions and established concerns, the opportunity to start with a clean slate and make the experience positive from the onset has already passed. Instead, with many of these animals McLaughlin is doing damage control, backtracking from previous negative experiences and recovering from a lack of ongoing positive experience and preparation.

“I’m often working up from a negative with my patients because they have such bad history,” says Dr. McLaughlin.

Sadly, common practice for handling birds in many pet care environments is to put the parrot on the ground and throw a towel on him. Such unsettling and scary experiences lead to increased angst for the animals.

“A lot of behavioral flooding happens with birds. It’s the status quo for most places. It’s not just vet hospitals. It happens at many pet stores when the parrot goes in for grooming, too,” says McLaughlin.

Alleviating and reducing FAS helps to bring the animal into a more neutral emotional state. Then he or she is more receptive to pleasant pairings that accompany the veterinary experience and positively affect the animal’s emotional outlook. This makes the situation less concerning for the animal and improves the ability to handle him and provide care.

A greater challenge in helping these patients is dealing with people who don’t understand the signs of FAS or the negative outcomes that can happen because of it.

“The hardest part is dealing with someone who has expectations in their head for how care should be or how it has always been. Or dealing with a person that’s driven by strict time constraints,” says Dr. McLaughlin.

The best approach McLaughlin has found to work gradually with these clients and build a rapport with them. Ultimately, this helps her to reach her goal of improving the lives of animal patients.

“I try to focus on one, two, or three things max they can do per visit to improve their bird’s quality of life. If I build enough rapport they’ll keep coming back and we can keep building,” says Dr. McLaughlin.

Putting the treat into treatment isn’t possible for all of McLaughlin’s patients, who sometimes don’t take food when they’re too upset. But just because the animal won’t take food doesn’t mean the visit can’t be Fear Free. There are numerous Fear Free-friendly tools McLaughlin uses to help.

“Some animals, like pigs, are easy to work with because they’re so food-motivated. Birds are more challenging because they are often already so far over the threshold it’s hard to reach them. Being sensitive to body language and taking things slow can help.”

Because many birds are already amped up and display signs of escalated FAS by the time they arrive for care, sedation is a tool that’s often utilized to deliver physical care in a manner that’s protective of emotional wellbeing.

“Using sedation on those birds that are already really stressed on arrival makes a big difference in how the visits go. It’s safer, the bird has a better quality of life, and it reduces negative experiences to help build for the future of that bird’s care going forward,” says Dr. McLaughlin.

“Emphasizing the need for minimal stress veterinary medicine has changed our approach to patients. Our staff tries to minimize coercion when possible, and sedation is seen as a way to help improve our patient’s veterinary experience when any potentially stressful medical procedures need to happen. There’s an increased urgency to try to quickly bring the stress levels down when they occur, along with more creative problem solving between staff members to either prevent or address stressful situations,” says McLaughlin.

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By Liz Bales, VMD

If we asked a client, “what are you doing for environmental enrichment?” the likely response would be, “what?”

And that’s a problem.

In our profession, we suffer from compassion fatigue.  I get it. I really do. Our clients break our hearts and wear us out. When they are at the end of their ropes because their cats are chronically urinating outside of the litter box, they might implore us to perform a convenience euthanasia. When their cat has destroyed their furniture and they just can’t deal with it anymore, they ask us to perform a declaw. When their cats keep fighting with each other we drain their abscesses, sew them up and talk about re-homing. And to top it off, if we either recommend an alternative or tell them that we don’t perform a debatably ethical service, we risk having our Yelp reviews tarnished. Some days it is just too much to bear.

But, my colleagues, we CAN get in front of this problem. After all, isn’t this why we became veterinarians? Our clients are looking to us for education and support at their first kitten visit. They are looking for more than vaccines and screening blood work at their annual visits. The time to inform and educate our clients about environmental enrichment is before the human-animal bond, and our professional spirits, are broken.

The science is there. The American Association of Feline Practitioners has beautifully laid out the 5 pillars of feline environmental enrichment, why they are important and the consequences of denying our cats the resources that they need to be physically and emotionally healthy in the indoor environment.

In case you have not had the opportunity to read this entire paper, here’s my favorite bit:

“Many behavioral and physical disorders that are seen in cats are often secondary to stress from lack of appropriate stimulation. Environmental enhancement (EE) should be part of the overall treatment plan for these disorders. As part of the wellness exam, it is the responsibility of the veterinarian to discuss the current state of the environment and to provide resources for EE to indoor cat owners.

It is well known that if an appropriate environment is not provided for indoor cats, they are at greater risk of stress induced illnesses such as the following:

  • Feline lower urinary tract disease
  • Obesity
  • Different forms of aggression
  • Over grooming and other compulsive disorders
  • Upper respiratory infection

In an attempt to prevent the above conditions, it should become routine for the veterinary team to inform owners of the importance of EE and to provide resources to owners. It is also important to consider EE in shelter cats for the same reasons.”

The cats are counting on us to get this information from the page to their caretakers. One way or another, this is a veterinary job—our job!

We study kidney disease, endocrine disease, ophthalmology, oncology, along with so many other specialized areas of medicine and thus we are prepared for those cases when they walk through our exam room door. But do you know what every cat in our care has in common? Every cat is our care is completely dependent upon their human to create an environment where they stand a chance of being physically and mentally well. Are we prepared with information and resources to treat or cure this?

If I haven’t convinced you yet, I would like to share with you the statistic that changed my life. Do you know the #1 cause of death for cats? My guesses were kidney disease, or hyperthyroidism. Nope. Well, we know so much about feline obesity and it’s consequences, perhaps that’s the answer? Again, no. The #1 cause of death for our feline patients is euthanasia.

So what do we do about that? Where and when do we talk about environmental enrichment? We are already squeezed with the amount of information we need to simultaneously digest and communicate back to our patients in addition to the procedures that we need to cram into a 15-20 minute appointment, it might seem impossible. Easier said than done, of course, but why not simply train our technicians (and ourselves) to carve out just a little extra time for every feline appointment to walk the client through the five pillars of environmental enrichment. At the very least, there are resources available both digitally and in print that we could simply email to our clients or hand out in our waiting rooms or at check out.

Just like with Fear Free, I promise you it’s worth it. Sometimes those seemingly small things can make all the difference for the pets we took an oath to help treat. And also like Fear Free, the benefits will actually save us time in the long run.

As a profession, we can figure out how to incorporate this into our practice. I know we can. And the time starts now, with a very simple question:

“What are you doing for environmental enrichment?”

By Kathyrn Primm, DVM

I lost a client today because of Fear Free. I knew it would probably happen, but I was not ready for the scathing email. She accused us of “requiring drugging” and asserted that she would not drug her dog “for any reason”. She thought it was ridiculous that we “hurried her to an exam room” because her dog was frantically barking and explained that her dog always barks like that because she is “just a barker”.  She was a fairly new client as this was her second visit with us and the first was prior to Fear Free implementation. Her chart was riddled with warnings about muzzles, biting, struggling and nail trim horrors.

My mother used to say that if someone criticizes me I would be wise to first consider if what they say is true, so I did. I asked myself if my staff and I took the time to explain the Fear Free principles to her. We did. I sat on the floor with a dog that no one could touch last year and did a full exam (with the help of some peanut butter and considerate approach) and completed vaccines with the dog comfortable and happy. She did not bark in my exam room and I was elated. She did not even flinch when I vaccinated her. She was so relaxed that we took her photo.

I pointed out the change for her owner and all was well until the nail trim was mentioned. We explained that we would like to finish the visit on a positive and comfortable note, but if she wanted the dog’s nails trimmed, we would send her with a PVP and book it the next day. Everything seemed fine. The lady and dog left and we were all pleased with the process…or so we thought.

I guess when she got home, she decided that we were being unreasonable. I lost the client and she may bash me all over the Internet, but what I did was right. It was following the Golden Rule by that dog. I know in my heart that it would have been cruel to force that dog to have her nails forcibly clipped. I also know that she won’t have to go far down the street to find a vet who will.

In the end, I have to feel good about MY choices. I took an oath to use my skills in the prevention of animal suffering. Putting that dog in a situation where she feels that she must defend her life is wrong and there is no other way to name it. If this owner had let me help her dog, I could have given her the gift of a lifetime free from fear over nail trims and vet visits. Then one day when her life is ending and she must see me for the last time, she would feel safe and loved, not afraid. What an amazing gift I could give!

Not for this dog. Sadly, she has already found a vet who will “never drug her for any reason” and life goes on. But I won’t give up. In my mind I renew my oath with each new puppy. This lady will not stop my surge to be completely Fear Free and I won’t let her daunt my staff either. We ARE Fear Free and if this owner wants Fearful, she has made the right choice for her.