TIG walked amiably into my consulting room, sat down and looked up at me, wagging his tail rhythmically.

Despite him being six years old, I had never met him before.

Indeed, his owner was new to the practice and first consultations such as this one generally involve a wee chat about medical histories, what’s happened in the past and where owner’s priorities lie.

On this occasion, there seemed to be nothing to write home (or even to the newspaper) about.

Tig was an average Lhasa Apso who had been regularly vaccinated, had been intermittently fed a worm tablet and that was about it.

He had been presented for treatment today because he had sore eyes. While a receptionist telephoned his previous practice to arrange for them to send his medical records, I set about trying to make him feel a bit better.

It should be noted, at this juncture, that when a client asks you to take over an existing case; a situation referred to as supersession, the Royal College of Veterinary Surgeon’s Code of Conduct section 5.5 makes it clear that the second vet must, with the approval of the client, inform the initial vet and obtain from them a clinical history. If the client refuses to provide information, the case should be refused. Where the case is new, this is not a requirement, but is still sensible. 

After determining which end was which (the moving tail helped), I lifted him onto my table and, after brushing some hair out the way, realised his owner was certainly right about his eyes. They looked hideously painful. The conjunctiva was red and angry. The eyelids were thick with a sticky, purulent goo that threatened to glue them together and the skin around his eyes was matted and similarly polluted. How he was still wagging his tail was quite beyond me. I never cease to be amazed at the resilience of our pets.

Explaining that the entire problem was most likely caused by a reduction in tear production, a condition called dry eye or keratoconjunctivitis sicca, I suggested that the first part of the healing process would be to get the whole area clipped and cleaned, so as to provide some relief from discomfort and reduce the level of contamination.

Leaving Tig’s owner in the waiting room, I scooped him up and retired to the prep room where, what with the nursing staff all occupied at various important tasks, I enlisted the help of a veterinary student to hold Tig as I sorted him out. Which, on hindsight might have been a mistake, though it is possible the outcome was inevitable.

Tig was quite the wee gentleman. He blinked as I clipped the hair and cut at the mess around his eyes. His tails swished happily as warm cotton wool compresses began to soften the crusty discharge. He licked my finger twice as I used scissors to remove the last little bristles around his upper eyelids.

Then h

Later, with the blood running from my hand, his owner told me that’s why his previous vet had refused to treat him anymore…the case history was sent only a few moments too late.