Part 16 (1/2)
Solution of nitrate of silver One drachm.
Distilled water One pint.
Any of the above may be employed, from a tablespoonful to a common wine-gla.s.s full being used for a dose. The pile ointment will likewise be beneficial, by facilitating the pa.s.sage of the faeces, allaying local irritability, and correcting that tendency to piles which is generally attendant upon, if not the original cause of the affection.
From what has been described, the reader will have seen that the diseases of the dog's r.e.c.t.u.m are neither few nor insignificant. Fistula in ano is said to be often beheld; but I have never seen a case in which it a.s.sumed in the dog that serious form which characterises it in man. In the canine race I have mostly let it alone, and hitherto I have had no reason to repent my forbearance. Blaine and Youatt both speak of the affection, and give directions for its treatment by operation. The most active remedy I have found it necessary to resort to has been an astringent or mildly caustic injection; the solution of the chloride of zinc I prefer to every other, but the sulphates are also not to be despised. Injections, when not designed to be immediately operative, or meant to distend the gut and to act through being ejected, are best given by means of the India-rubber bladder, which allows the fluid to be more gently and silently thrown up.
The less noise or force attending the operation the less likely is the animal to be alarmed or excited, and the probability is the enema will be retained. Small quant.i.ties are to be administered when the fluid is wished to remain; and by attracting the attention of the dog at the time, and amusing him after the business is finished, the object in view is considerably favored. The administration of an injection is in the first instance almost certain to alarm the animal, who can neither understand nor pa.s.sively sanction the strange liberty the operation implies. A little soothing, however, will restore his confidence, and he who has gained the trust of a dog, may subsequently do as he pleases with the body of the generous and confiding beast.
NERVOUS DISEASES.--FITS IN THE DOG.
Youatt speaks of fits as particularly fatal to the dog, saying they ”kill more than all the other diseases put together.” The experience of this esteemed authority is in direct variance with my own--save from distemper.
When the fits occur in that disease they are mostly fatal, being the wind-up of all the many evils which the malady in its most intense and malignant form can acc.u.mulate on one doomed life--I have not otherwise found them especially troublesome.
Fainting fits require little attention; if the dog be left quiet, it will in due time often recover without medicine.
Puerperal, or rather pupping fits, are treated of in their fitting place, and, if properly administered to, are by no means dangerous.
Fits _par excellence_ are witnessed when a dog is taking a long walk with its master; the animal at first lingers behind, or gets a long distance before the proprietor, who notices the fact, but contents himself with whistling and walking forward. The dog does not obey the mandate; it is standing still as if stupefied; suddenly it emits a strange, loud, guttural sound, and then falls upon its side, continuing to cry, but more feebly and more naturally; its faeces and urine may be discharged involuntarily; it will bite any one who, during the existence of the attack, incautiously attempts to lay hold of it; its limbs, at first stretched rigidly out, are ultimately, with returning volition, put into violent motion; the eye is protruded and foam covers the mouth. When the convulsion has subsided, the dog raises its head and stares about; after which it would, if left alone, start at its utmost pace, and run heaven only knows where. Should idle men and foolish boys behold a dog wildly run onward after having come out of a fit, and raise the cry of ”mad dog,” the fate of the poor animal is then sealed, as fear is devoid of discrimination or pity. Half the dogs killed as rabid are those in this condition, scampering under the impulse of returning sensation.
The first thing any person is to do when out with a dog which has a fit is to secure the animal, and to prevent its running away when the fit has pa.s.sed. The second thing is stubbornly to close his ears to the crowd who are certain to surround him. No matter what advice may be given, he is to do nothing but get the animal home as quickly as possible. He is neither to lance the mouth, slit the ear, nor cut a piece of the tail off. He is on no account to administer a full dose of salt and water, a lump of tobacco, or to throw the animal into an adjacent pond; and of all things he is to allow no man more acquainted with dogs than the other spectators to bleed the creature. Any offer to rub the nose with syrup of buckthorn, however confidently he who makes the proposal may recommend that energetic mode of treatment, is to be unhesitatingly declined. The friendly desire of any one who may express his willingness to ram a secret and choice specific down the prostrate animal's throat, must be refused with firmness. The attendant must however take advantage of the time the dog is on the ground to pa.s.s a handkerchief round the neck or through the collar.
This done, he must wait patiently till the dog gets upon its legs, when he must, amidst its struggles to be free, caress it and call it kindly by its name. That part of the business over, he must take the creature in his arms, and seeking the nearest cab-stand, carry the poor animal with all expedition homeward.
I have known a dog to have a succession of fits which lasted more than an hour; and yet this creature, by the treatment I shall presently describe, was the next day upon its legs, and to all appearance as well as ever.
The dog being brought home, if the fit continues, give nothing by the mouth; because the animal being insensible cannot swallow; and the breathing being laborious, anything administered is more likely to be drawn on to the lungs, and so to suffocate the creature, than to pa.s.s into the stomach, and thus (if it have any curative properties) effect a restoration. On this account the very best physic ever invented would be dangerous, and should be withheld. Enemas are the only things in these cases to be depended upon; and the best the author is at present acquainted with, is made of 1, 2, or 3 drachms of sulphuric aether, and 2, 4, or 6 scruples of laudanum to 1, 3, or 4 ounces of the very coldest spring water that can be obtained. The above injection having been administered, the dog is left entirely by itself, and, as far as possible, in absolute silence for an hour; at the expiration of which time, in whatever state the animal may be in, another dose is given in the same manner as before.
There is no limitation to the quant.i.ty which may be administered; the only sign the attendant accepts that the creature has received sufficient is the sight of it coiled up as though it were composing itself to sleep, when he gives one more injection, and leaves the dog to recover at leisure, but in perfect stillness.
So valuable is this medicine in cases of fits that I have known it to cut them short as with a knife; literally to let the first part of the fit be heard, but to check the attack before the last and worst portion could put in an appearance.
Armed with this medicine I fearlessly face the disorder, which other veterinary surgeons dread; and, whether it be my good luck or no, cannot be decided, but I have not, under its operation, lost a single case.
Fits in my opinion are, in the great majority of cases, to be traced to the quant.i.ty or quality of the food consumed. In proof of this, dogs have had fits whenever flesh has been given; which ceased on this kind of diet being withheld, and medicine calculated to restore the tone of the stomach being ordered. In every case of fits, when the attack is over, I attend to the stomach; at the same time, ordering that the dog is to go short distances, and never to leave the house without a chain and collar.
The object of this last injunction is to prevent the animal running about, and thus heating itself, or causing a flow of blood to the brain.
It is to be lamented that the crowd of people prevents an injection being administered out of doors in London: but the same objection does not apply to the country; and as the effects of the aether are more marked in proportion as it is quickly exhibited, persons in the country, when, during the hot months of summer, they take dogs for an airing, should be provided with the materials necessary to render fits, if not harmless, at all events less fatal.
NERVOUS SYSTEM.--RABIES.
The dog is naturally the most nervous of all the dumb tribe. His intense affection, his ever-watchful jealousy, his method of attack, the blindness of his rage, and his insensibility to consequences, all bespeak a creature whose nervous system is developed in the highest possible degree. I myself once had a little cur, who, as I sat reading, would enter the apartment, jump upon my knee, uttering a low whimper all the time, creep along my waistcoat, rub his little body against my head and face, lick the hand lifted up to return his caresses, and then scamper off, and perhaps not come near me again the whole of that afternoon. What was this but an affectionate impulse seeking a nervous development? The way to manage an animal of this description is, to respect his evident excitability. The instant a dog appears to be getting excited, there should be a sign given, commanding a stop to be put to all further proceedings. If the respect of the animal be habitual, the person who mildly enforces it may enter a room, where the same dog is in a rabid state, and come forth unscathed.
[Ill.u.s.tration: A RABID DOG.]
I have hitherto been much among dogs, and, nevertheless, have almost escaped being bitten. The reason is, that I understand and respect the innate nervousness of the animal. When I go into a room, if there be a dog there and he growl, I speak kindly to him, and then seat myself, and bestow on him none of my attention for some time. My request to his master or mistress is, that he or she will not check or seek to stop the symptom of his wrath; but allow him to vent his rage until he is ashamed of it, and from a feeling of remorse is silent. When this takes place, and a sufficient time has pa.s.sed to confirm him in the new mood into which he has recently entered, I approach him with my hand extended and open; this I bring near to him by degrees, avoiding all sudden movements or anything that might provoke his natural disposition. Generally he crouches, then I speak to him in tones of encouragement. If he display a return of his warlike propensity, I still bring the hand nearer and nearer to him, telling him to bite it if he pleases, if he is not ashamed to injure that which means to do him good. Then, perhaps, he will make a snap at my extended hand, which is not upon this withdrawn, or the jaws would close with nervous violence, but allowed to remain, and the teeth are felt to touch the skin without wounding it. I allow him to hold the hand for any length of time he pleases, telling him ”he would lose his character if he were to harm it. That he is a courageous dog, and means no hurt; he would be ashamed to bite.” And with this kind of speech, which the animal may not literally understand, but the sense and purpose of which it nevertheless appears to comprehend, I seldom fail of getting my hand safe and sound from the creature's jaws. After that I may pat him, for an intimacy has begun. He allows me to drag him forth, take him on my knees, and permits me any liberty I please to take. I do not attribute my escape to any charm that I possess; but account for it simply by my knowing and respecting the natural temperament of the beast with which I have to interfere.
This natural respect for the feelings of a most affectionate creature, with such a power of observation as will enable the individual to recognise the presence of lamentable sickness in an animal that has with truth been called ”the companion of the home,” shall at all times enable the uneducated in such matters to recognise a mad dog, and, unless luck be dead against the individual, save him from being bitten.