Have you ever seen an animal suffer after a snakebite?
The different phases they go through, where the body’s temperature rises and then drops.
How they lose bowel control. How their breathing becomes erratic. How their senses shut off. The vomiting and, worst off, all the seizures and fits – where they shriek and howl in agony while dashing their heads on the ground until their teeth shatter?
It will chill you to the core of your being and to your very bone. It’s something you will never forget.
Over two weeks ago during lockdown, my partner noticed that one of the furry kids was very pensive and uncharacteristically laid back.
She is a sweet, stunted cat of mine named “Peanut” (as if the name isn’t a giveaway) and was resting in the garden outside on a ledge. Her breathing was laborious and her energy levels were worryingly low.
I brought her inside to my room and called one of the vets that I take my pets for treatment. I was informed the facility was closed due to Covid complications. I was able to reach another vet. Once I told her the situation, she informed me that they too were closed. I asked her for advice and she inquired what medication I have at home. She told me to administer some of the medication I had.
It must be said that I have some medication always at hand, as I do have a reasonable menagerie of rescues.
I made three calls to her and re-confirmed before administering the meds – as I am no expert and don’t know some of the meds verbatim – and she gave me the green light.
After a while, we noticed she was not in a good state; in fact, her condition had worsened. She’d vomited the meds out. The bile was a hue that warranted more concern. I checked her gums and eyes to see if they were diluted and panicked that it might be poison or a snake bite.
I called the lady vet back. After a myriad of rings and the calls going unanswered, she finally picked up and I told her what had happened.
Her response to me was: “Well, there is no way to know for sure how a pet would react to medicine, no? Besides, we can’t really say anything without looking at her physically. You shouldn’t have given her the meds in the first place.”
Absolutely irked, I wasted no time in exchanging diatribes with the woman and hung up and proceeded to try a clinic in Arangala that I also patronise sometimes. The reason that was not my first choice is that it’s one of those unpredictable places that on any day where you really need it is often closed.
The line was busy; frustrated, I called a cab and, while waiting for it, kept dialling the Arangala vet. Finally, the receptionist answered and told me one of the resident vets was there but that he was at a “special” consultation.
I mentioned it was an emergency and if she could ask him if I could bring her, that being in Malabe – I am literally less than 10 minutes away. She took her sweet time and finally the vet took the phone.
I told him who I was and he recognised me. I explained the situation saying I think it’s a snake bite and that I would appreciate it if I could bring her over. He seemed a bit agitated and said that the time is 5.45 p.m. and that he is only there until 6 p.m. He hinted that I should have called him earlier.
I mentioned that I did and couldn’t get through, and he didn’t believe me.
They are usually open until 8 p.m., except this evening the doctor had a personal errand to run.
The cab arrived then, immaculately on cue. I said I could leave immediately and be there before 6 p.m. if he could please wait. I pleaded and begged the man and all he said was: “See how she fares overnight. If she is okay, bring her tomorrow morning. I must leave sharp at six.”
I emphasised that she may not make it through the night.
He repeated nonchalantly that he must leave at 6 p.m. and that he is available the next morning.
Those of you who have adopted, rescued, or own a pet know the trauma and sinking feeling of helplessness when there is nothing you can do, especially during lockdown, and so I messaged the official Stigmata WhatsApp public group and also made a few phone calls to some pet parents and animal rescue enthusiasts I know and was given a series of contacts – and finally, I got the personal contact to a vet in Battaramulla.
The man didn’t even know who I was, but his demeanour was pleasant and he asked me to bring Peanut over without wasting a moment.
I took her; she was lifeless by then.
Once I got there, my heart sank as the place was overcrowded with patrons having brought dogs and cats, and I realised I would never be able to get her treated on time. I inquired if there was a numbering system and was told there wasn’t – that everyone was waiting their turn. I waited then hoping someone from the clinic would come outside, whom I could talk to. I didn’t want to keep calling the vet. Besides, I realised as a pet owner that while my scenario was an emergency, there were others who were also there with equal urgency.
Then, something amazing happened that was near miraculous – a couple of patrons asked me what was wrong with Peanut, and when I mentioned it was a snake bite, a bunch of them told me to go inside at once. I hesitated only for a few seconds and then cleared my voice and bellowed to everyone there asking their permission if it was okay if I take Peanut before them, explaining my dilemma.
Not one person young or old objected. They gave their consent and wished her well.
I was overwhelmed with joy and surprise. I thanked them and rushed her in. Inside were pets after accidents, some for surgery, and the doctor and the helpers were up to their teeth with cases, doing all they could to their fullest abilities.
All I could do was carry her in my arms and keep whispering to her until the doctor could see me.
I told the vet how I had self-administered some medication and explained the situation. He looked at her and confirmed it was a snakebite.
Peanut was treated, anti-venom and meds administered, and she was brought home. I was asked to bring her every day that they would do all they can.
The first day when she returned, she broke into one of those horrible fits, her tiny paws clenched and her mouth foaming and she would not allow anyone near her. But I carried her and calmed her, and my partner and I spent that first night taking turns supervising her, where one would sleep for a few hours and the other would take over.
We did this for two or three days every night and by day took turns working during the day.
Having lost her sense of smell, Peanut could not eat and she cared not for liquids either.
She would go to the vets, receive saline and boosters, and we were to somehow give her medication for the fits and her ailment at home.
My god, Peanut fought though in Herculean spirit. Her little body kept shutting down and she just seemed to claw and clutch onto her ninth life minute after minute, hour after hour. Soon she could not move but could only lie on her side and breathe laboriously.
After nearly a week of this finally…Peanut recovered!
She started to take liquid-based food, the seizures stopped, and her bowel control returned. She walked unsteadily and could jump onto a chair or two and lie there.
Today, she is nearly fully recovered, she is eating again, she drinks water and milk; she has regained her composure and caterwauling meow, and resumed to jump to the highest of places.
It was such a close thing, and that new clinic I discovered will now be my go-to veterinarian hospital.
While during a catastrophe like this money shouldn’t be a factor, this place was reasonable and both doctors kind and candid. In fact, when Peanut was showing signs of recovery, they insisted on us not wasting time and money bringing her over unless she had a relapse.
I have had pets my entire life. I’ve had a mixed bag of good and bad experiences. Some animal clinics today are akin to our hospitals where business and exploiting customers takes precedence over the wellbeing of patients.
I am just glad that Peanut is better now, thanks to the professionalism, sincere concern, and unbridled kindness of these two brilliant vets. Her recovery was truly a miracle. Her survival was such a close thing. She would have lost her life had I wasted any more time with those other vets I had consulted earlier.
Be careful who treats your pets. It’s not about how posh the facility is and how much money you fork out. First, see if they have their hearts in the right place and if their intentions are on par with their selfless standards of service. All else is truly secondary.
…to be continued.
Suresh de Silva is the frontman and lyricist of Stigmata, a creative consultant and brand strategist by profession, a self-published author and poet, thespian, animal rescuer, podcaster, and fitness enthusiast.
The views and opinions expressed in this column are those of the author, and do not necessarily reflect those of this publication.