It was 2am in the early hours when sensible people were asleep. I was checking inpatients and giving medications. The vet and 2nd (and only other duty nurse) were carrying out an operation on a German Shepherd for a ruptured spleen. Something that the breed is well known for once they reach about 8years old.
The doorbell rang and the auxiliary appeared down the back with a Weinerama that had sliced its leg open and was bleeding through his home made dressing. In fact the passage was a path of bloody footprints.
The dog had the wary eye that behoved us to be careful, the pearly white teeth that showed under the slowly raising lip also gave a strong clue.
I tied him up and asked her to print a quick consent form. I grabbed all we needed for a pressure dressing, had a quick dig through the muzzle bin till l found one that looked like it would fit, and got a drugs regime from the vet.
The auxiliary came back and we got the muzzle on (l shall call him Fang), and managed to lay Fang on his side on the floor, this gave us slightly better control over him. Anyway he was to big to get onto the table fighting against us. Fang may have lost a lot of blood but his temper had not run out with the blood.
The aux. had her hands full holding Fang down and as still as possible. l wrapped a quick tornique and took the owners dressing off. We ducked and avoided the spurt that shot up. It only added a bit more to the mess already on the floor and us, I got my dressing started.
By now we all looked we had bathed in red paint. I had almost done the first layer when fang decided he had had enough. Up came the 2 front legs, grabbed his muzzle and with a wrench it was off.
He sprang at the pair of us, l tripped over the bandages and went flying, his dressing came off and my tornique unclipped as the artery forceps twanged apart.
Teeth bared he headed for me on the floor but thankfully the aux. pulled off a tackle a rugby player would have been proud of. She flung herself onto him and he slid on the blood and fell over. I recovered and slammed the muzzle back, and made it even tighter.
Finally the leg was dressed with several firmly applied layers and he was given his drugs, and placed in a walk in kennel still muzzled.
The vet and other nurse appeared about 5 minutes later and made the smug comment that we made more mess with our simple cut leg, than they did removing a spleen.
I wish l removed the muzzle in revenge and made them get Fang out for his op to suture the wound.
The ungrateful beast went home the next day, after kennel guarding and doing his best to eat us. I was so glad that l was not going to be doing his op check and leg redressing.