At the Sign of the Blue Cross

Sun (Auckland), Volume III, Issue 637, 13 April 1929, Page 17

At the Sign of the Blue Cross

TBE BLUE CROSS —A sign which the world over, is emblematic of humtnity toward animals.

. E have the ** | money and you mals approachfed Mr. H. W. Carbury, Member of the Royal College of Veterinary Surgeons, with a proposal to establish an animals’ hospital in Auckland. How successful the collaboration has proved may be seen and lieard at New Lynn, where a dozen dogs and half as many cats are all getting along quite nicely, thank you. In addition, a regiment of animalß has passed through the institution, and numbers are receiving attention at their own homes.

In starting a blue-cross hospital the feoclety has supplied a long-felt need. If people are looking for tangible evidence of what this body does to justify its existence, what better testimony than the scores of “patients” mended and patched and restored to health after treatment at New Lynn? Although it has received patients for ratter less than a year the hospital is already known to thousands of animal lovers — or so it would seem to Mr. Carbury on a Sunday afternoon. As with the Irish pugilist in the song, its ‘ Fame went abroad through the nation

and folks came a flocking to see.” And little wonder. An infirmary of this kind !a Quite new in Auckland, although animal hospitals are to be found in host big cities of the world. If you are inclined to doubt the prevailing notion that no animal so nearly approaches the human being in astuteness and understanding as the dog, a visit to the wards at New Lynn ought convince you that there is fouui ation for the belief. Here a variety °f emotions is portrayed.

u Aa y ou stand between the rows of cots you are greeted or resented in ®*ny ways, While you hold converse 'hh a Cairn terrier not long from the operating theatre, a ponderous nonde•oript with bared teeth is interested in calf of your leg. A sheep-dog, now c °nvalescent, feels fit enough—and —to round you up, but has to reprimanded. Ap Alsatian, nursing 4 leg in splints, is heartily glad to see Next door a collie condescends t 0 f aiee an eyelid as you pass. Bored

to death a fox-terrier yawns. Across the way a mongrel growls; a tawny brute not in the best of health. There they are, no two alike—the supercilious, the humble, the proud, the I meek, the mild-natured, the evil-tem-pered, the ill and the malingerer. At least so it would seem to the lay eye. Ward No. 2 houses the cats. Mostly they exhibit little interest in your presence, and like soldiers in hospital when old ladies are delivering peppermints, get deeper into the bedding. A big Persian, the pet of - some little girl, swishes playfully at you through the bars. A piebald Thomas, for many years a member of the household of a well-known detective, is suffering from broken ribs through falling from a window in a moment of nocturnal exuberance. By way of a variant, the collection of cats and dogs was introduced a month or so ago to a stranger from across the Tasman. Part of the entertainment billed at a city amusement park was a boxing kangaroo. One evening he quitted the ring for the dizzy heights of an aerial railway, presumably to taste the thrill of a rapid descent or possibly to revel in the sight of Auckland by night. What happened nobody is quite sure. The uncharitable conjecture that he, defeated in fisticuffs, attempted to take his life. Be that as it may, the keeper found the kangaroo at the foot of the structure morose and broken and all the fight knocked out of him by the leap or fall. The kangaroo was sent to New Lynn, where Mr. Carbury pronounced 1 a hip to be dislocated and ligaments of one long shank torn. He did what he could and the gawky patient lay in a large cage while healing Nature slowly eased the hurt. In the fulness of time the kangaroo was removed. Subsequently his death was announced. He had partaken of a poisoned chbcolate. Modem Planning As yet by no means completed, the hospital promises to become a notable Institution. Casualty, surgical and non-contagious disease wards in brick stand under one roof a chain away from a neat house in which Mr. and Mrs. Carbury are living. As is now patent to all Auckland, no hospital is complete without adequate isolation wards. meet emergency provision for infectious cases was made at New Lynn by the erection of an infectious disease block 100 yards from the main Infirmary. Here

are quartered animals afflicted with communicable complaints. Elaborate precautions are taken to minimise risk of transference of disease. When infected “patients” have received attention. Mr. Carbury changes clothing and boots at the isolation ward and subjects himself to a thorough disinfecting.

Unimpeachable cleanliness is a sine qua non of all hospital nursing, and in this the institution leaves nothing to be desired. The doctor is. however. unorthodox concerning the use of disinfectants about the main building. He places his faith in an abundance of fresh water. “You have noticed.” he said, “the absence of a ‘doggy’ aroma in this place.” Maybe, but one remembers that to him who serves in a fish shop fish do not smell “fishy.”

To watch a surgeon at work on a human being is fascinating enough.

and a major operation on an animal is none the less compelling. The other day Mr. Carbury had on the table a dog suffering from haematoma. It is said that the milkman lashed out with his boot one morning. At all events, it was necessary to knife the lobe of the ear. The dog was given a local anaesthetic of morphia, and a delicate job satisfactorily performed. Only when suturing—stitching of the wound —was being carried out did the patient show sign of discomfort. Dogs are remarkable for the quantity of morphia they can assimilate. Whereas a grain or two will kill a man not accustomed to the drug most dogs can sleep off from 15 to 20. Mr. Carbury has records of one old dog to which no less than 27 grains was administered for the purpose of dis-

posing of him. Three days later he awoke hungry but happy. On the other hand cats, although reputed to possess nine lives, go mad if given anything but miscroscopic doses, and generally die soon afterward. Chloroform is safe and effective. A Clever Invention An arresting feature of Mr. Carbury’a theatre is the operating table. Surgeons not infrequently experience exasperating difficulty in inducing patients to take an anaesthetic with equanimity. With animals Mr. Carbury would be well-nigh helpless if it were not for an ingenious apparatus invented by a veterinary friend. The “patient”-is placed on the table on all fours and over each wrist is slipped a noose, large ones for dogs and small for cats, which recalls, rather, the famous scientist who cut a large hole in his study door for his cat to enter by, and a small one for its jjf kitten! Under the table is a crank-

j Humanitarian Work Among Animals at New Lynn Hospital . . . j Delicate Operations Performed in Special Theatre ... An IceS Cream Diet. . . Base Ingratitude of a Swan.

(WRITTEN for THE SUN by C. T. C. WATSON.)

handle which is slowly turned. And lo and behold the astonished animal finds its legs drawn gently apart in a fore-and-aft motion and is stretched flat on the table, harmless. “Something like a Spanish inquisition rack, Mr. Carbury?” “For mercy’s sake don’t call it that. There are people sensitive enough to believe the thing cruel, which you see it is not.” Mr. Carbury says he' could not maintain the hospital without the help of his wife. She assists as anaesthetist, theatre sister and general nurse, besides superintending while he is away making his daily calls among “outpatients” in the town. Late on a recent evening Mr. Carbury was called to the telephone. Said the agitated voice of a woman: “Oh, doctor, I want your help. I am so concerned about my dog. Please can you tell me this without my -calling for a consultation: Is it all right to give my Peep-Oh ice-cream?” As diagnosticians some women are hopeless. One came along with a

pathetic little dog all shivering and miserable. “He has had a terrible cold for some weeks and though he sleeps on my bed he doesn’t seem to get better.”

“Madame, your dog has distemper. Tableau!

Patients and Patience To make a success oi veterinary work infinite patience, coupled with aa earn-

est love of animals, is a requiste. Mr. Carbury began bis life work as a bobby. As a boy be used to doctor cats and dogs on the streets. Persisting, be finally took the highest degrees at Dublin College. Animals, like babies, naturally cannot explain what is the matter. They have not even the advantage of tiny hands to indicate pain in tiny tummies. Mr. Carbury has often sat watching an animal for an hour at a time noting its behaviour in an effort

to locate a trouble. Cows are particularly mysterious. “Man has one stomach, and it’s hard enough sometimes to tell what is wrong, but you appreciate a veterinary surgeon’s difficulty when it is remembered that a cow has four!” Mr. Carbury has performed many a queer operation. He has removed bones from the throats of cats, amputated legs, set broken limbs. A pedigree duck born with wings back-to-front he made presentable. He has

set a canary’s leg apd cured cows with rheumatism. He has had much experience of dental cases. “What is considered the trickiest operation in veterinary practice?” The surgeon displayed no inclination to discuss what he had done, but persuaded that the public liked to hear about those things, stated impersonally that the removal of a section of a small animal’s intestine and

At Left—AßLE TO GET ABOUT — Three convalescents out for exercise in the recreation area.

suturing of the ends, the profession regarded as perhaps the most delicate task required of a practitioner. It needs little imagination to comprehend the skill demanded in sewing together the clipped parts of a “tube" as small in diameter as an orangedrink straw. Skin diseases constitute a formidable proportion of the afflictions treated at New Lynn. Sometimes cure is effected by dieting, but more generally to restore a sleek coat is as expensive in medicines as an animal is worth. In course of time Mr. Carbury hopes to install a violet ray apparatus, now recognised as an invaluable aid to the correction of skin disorders. Distemper, that most virulent and destructive of diseases among farm dogs, will shortly, it is hoped, be stamped out of the country. A new and highly-effective vaccine, injected hypodermically, should soon find its way from Britain to the New Zealand market. Animals respond in diverse ways to humanitarian treatment. In this they only emphasise their resemblance to man. Some convey mute but eloquent gratitude, some manifest complete indifference, others again show vindictive petulence—and many forget to pay their fees. Human again. A year or so ago the Wellington Racing Club had a swan of which it was very proud. By some misfortune the bird fractured a wing, which drooped, and was trodden on when the swan walked. Mr. Carbury amputated the injured member, relieving the creature of pain. A representative of the club who called to take away the patient popped it into a sack. The swan’s beautiful protruded. Mr. Carbury turned, bent to pick up something, and received a lusty nip that left its mark.