Catupuncture

I called to get an appointment for Otis' health checkup. It's been over a year since he's seen a vet and he needs his next round of vaccinations. So I called the vet who used to treat Zita when she was alive.
Dr. Madge's assistant answered the phone.
No, Dr. Madge's practice has undergone significant change, she told me in a hushed, breathy voice that bordered on the mysterious. We perform wholistic health for pets: accupuncture and chiropractic, and use of herb dietary supplements for total health.
I was appalled.

Perhaps it's because I grew up in the country surrounded by the neighbor's farm animals. Animals were what they had because it was a practical thing: they made money for the farmers. The barnyard cats were there because they kept down the rodent population, which saved money on grain and machine parts that typically got nibbled down to nothing in the cold winters. The dogs were to ride on tractors with the farmer, run to get the paper, keep the sheep in line, and help rounding up the cows at milking time. Every animal had a purpose.

It was not unusual for farmers to shoot the calves born with congenital defects, or to do other things with unwanted litters of kittens. But mostly the farmers I knew were kind souls who would never willfully hurt an animal for no cause.

But herbs and chiropractic for Otis? He can barely tolerate me massaging him unless he's almost dead from being sleepy. I can't visualize him stretched out on a padded couch, accupuncture needles sticking out of his neck, a vet stretching his legs and working his abs whilst inhaling in lavender or vetiver--things that makes him turn his head and retch every time I offer him a sniff. He would come home and roll around on the floor to try and get the smell off himself, ears flat to his head, shaking his head in disgust.

It was a very funny image. I'm sure there are those whose pets benefit from these treatments, and I quite understand the need for alternative medicines than the same old thing therapy. But juxtaposed against the backdrop of 25,000 acres of burned down homes, businesses, churches, and wilderness areas, questions arise about use of resources and priorities. Dr. Madge is only a vet and can't be responsible for FEMA procedures or helping people get on their feet again. And I don't begrudge her the opportunity to practice vetinerary medicine the way she chooses--and with obvious benefit. But it seems that our society has been turned on its ear. People in dire straits, who have lost all they have in wildfires, can walk past Dr Madge's office, look in, and see cats and dogs getting treatments they themselves could benefit from but can't afford. Or that seem superfluous in the face of their losses.

Otis is going to Dr. Taverstock, who will see him, give him his shots, pat him on the head, and send us home. And that's more medical attention than many children in this country get.

It's an interesting time in Southern California and in our world.