This was my first summer at the clinic. This guy brought in his cat (i think the cat's name might have been Buddy, I don't remember for sure). No carrier, no brace/leash, he just carried the cat in his arms wrapped in a towel. Now this is a major pet peeve of mine and of most people in vet clinics; when bringing your cat to the vet, you really need to bring it in a carrier. I don't care how much he hates the carrier, or how well behaved he is when you carry him, the vet clinic/animal hospital is a stressful environment for your animal and you can't predict how he's going to act, and you certainly can't predict what other animals will be there. But we'll get back to that later.



So this guy brings in his cat, who's having problems breathing. He's a really sweet guy, an old man that lives alone with this cat, and you could tell that he absolutely loves this cat. And the cat is one of the sweetest cats I've had the pleasure to work with. So we bring him downstairs for a chest x-ray and bloodwork; turns out that it was a pretty serious case of pleural effusion (fluid buildup around the lungs) that was causing the breathing problems; the only reason he was still alive at this point was that he was such a calm, well behaved cat, and didnt get overly stressed out as we were poking him for bloodwork and laying him out for x-rays. He was loving the attention in fact; the whole time he just wanted pets and to cuddle. He's still probably one of my favorite patients. It really broke my heart when he got such a serious diagnosis.



So the doctor sighed, brought the chest x-ray upstairs to try to explain to the client the gravity of the situation, and that he absolutely needed to be hospitalized to that she could observe him overnight and get back results on the bloodwork. The poor man was devastated, and clearly in denial. He refused hospitalization several times (with the doctor and another tech desperately trying to get him to reconsider), saying he just wanted to bring the cat home. After it was clear that we couldn't convince him to leave the cat with us, we offered to lend him one of our cat carriers to bring him home in (standard practice for when people bring in their cats unrestrained, it happens fairly often). Again, he refused. The doctor insisted, explaining that any extra stress could be fatal for the cat. The man insisted that its okay, the cat loves him and trusts him, he prefers to be held, blahblahblah.



So after several fruitless attempts to get him to hospitalize the cat, and to at least let us give him a carrier for the cat, he was billed out and getting ready to leave. At this point a storm had started; it was pouring out, and there was heavy thunder and lightning. One final plea to let us give him a carrier, one final refusal, and out he went, with the cat wrapped in a towel in his arms. They made it as far as his car, when a loud clap of thunder freaked the cat out. He leapt from his owners arms, and died right there. I'm still haunted by that cat; I'm even getting a little wistful as I type this.



The next week I'm asked by the doctor, "You were up there when I insisted that he hospitalize the cat right? You heard him refuse?" "Of course, several times." "And when I offered a cat carrier, you heard him refuse, you heard me tell him why it was important that he be in a carrier, right?" "Oh doc, he isnt..." Oh, but he was. It turns out earlier that day he called her hysterically, saying it was all her fault his cat is dead, swearing that he was going to sue her for malpractice. That was all we heard of it though; I guess he may have called a lawyer or two who told him that he didn't have a case, maybe he had time to calm down and come to his senses. I really do feel bad for that man. The cat was fairly young, the death was sudden and tragic, and it really seemed like that cat was all he had. I can sympathize. But to refuse treatment, refuse proper transport for the animal, and then try to sue the doctor for malpractice? Not cool.