Dog Gone Crazy, Times Publications, July 2013
Just one more shredded couch cushion or urine soaked rug and Karey Bohmer was going to have to make a difficult decision about her crazy cat.
For years, Snookee, a 6-year-old Calico, had been moody and aggressive. She sneered and fought with Bohmer’s three other cats, scratched her owners, destroyed property and constantly sprayed outside the litter box. After trying everything to calm their ultra-grumpy cat, Bohmer and her husband were seriously considering a trip to the pound.
“I was ready to take her down to a no-kill shelter,” says Bohmer of Gilbert. “I love this cat to pieces, but I thought, ‘She’s got to go. I can’t take this.’” Before getting rid of Snookee, Bohmer tried n unconventional treatment—antidepressants for animals. The veterinarian prescribed five milligrams of daily Prozac, and within weeks Snookee made a dramatic transformation. “It was a 180-degree turn in her personality,” Bohmer says. “Now she’s a normal, loving, happy-go-lucky cat. She sleeps with me at night. She’s purring, happy. I couldn’t ask for a better cat.”
While it might seem bizarre, more veterinarians are treating those pouty puppies and cranky kitties with psychiatric drugs normally reserved for humans. And that isn’t even one of the more unusual alternative pet treatments in today’s veterinary field. Arizona veterinarians are increasingly turning to atypical treatments, including homeopathic medicine, animal acupuncture and kitty chiropractor care.
“Whether it be two legged or four legged, or even three legged patients, alternative health care is gaining more and more popularity,” says Adrian Marnell, a certified animal chiropractor. “More people are looking at alternative health care for themselves, and they’re starting to think along the same lines for their pets.”
Puppy Pincushion
In a dimly lit Phoenix exam room, surrounded by pillows, lavender aromatherapy candles and melodic spa music, Wendy Titus’ pooch undergoes bimonthly acupuncture treatments. Thirteen-year-old Parker spreads out on an oriental rug while her personal acupuncturist, Dr. Jaquie Allgire, gently pokes her with fine needles to soothe stiff hips.
Dr. Jaquie Allgire’s entire veterinary practice in Phoenix is dedicated to animal acupuncture and traditional Chinese veterinary medicine. Pictured here, one of her patients stands calmly with the fine needles covering his body.
“The first time her tail wagged, I just knew it was working,” says Titus of Phoenix. “It’s made a complete difference. It’s gone from her laying there, not wanting to get up and move, to playing with my younger dog, going on long walks, having her tail wag. It’s like night and day.”
Located at the Alta Vista Veterinary Hospital in Phoenix, Allgire’s practice is dedicated entirely to animal acupuncture and traditional Chinese veterinary medicine. Treating all small mammals—dogs, cats and even the occasional rabbit—she uses the ancient medical practice of acupuncture to regulate the nervous system and combat a variety of animal aliments.
While treating pets has its own unique challenges, the practice isn’t much different than when it’s done on humans, she says.
“The logical question is ‘how do they stay still?’” says Allgire, who rarely uses muzzles on patients. “It’s really quite amazing. The needles are very, very fine, and most of the time my patients don’t feel them. And if they do feel the occasional tingling sensation, any sort of discomfort goes away pretty quickly.”
As with people, acupuncture for animals is useful in treating pain, arthritis, skin problems and even behavior issues like anxiety. Depending on their malady, pets usually need four to six sessions, which cost $65 per visit. Results can usually be seen after a few treatments, she says.
“A lot of my clients have tried conventional medicine, and it hasn’t helped,” says Allgire, who has been certified in veterinary acupuncture since 2001. “With dogs, they’re limping because they are uncomfortable… And when the acupuncture works and they are feeling better, it’s very obvious, and true, and very satisfying.”
While Goodyear resident Chris Esprecion has never had acupuncture for herself, she brings her 12-year-old Doberman, Pili, to Allgire every other week.
“I wish I would treat myself as good as I treat my pets actually,” she says with a laugh.
Esprecion says she noticed results right away, and today Pili, recovering from a neck injury, is “a totally different dog.” She credits acupuncture for helping her pet put on weight and improving her coat. When she tells others about the results, she sometimes gets a strange reaction though.
“I’ve been laughed at, but I don’t care,” she says. “My dog looks amazing. My dog has done very well. She’s very healthy.”
Alternatives for Animals
In Arizona there are more than 6,000 licensed veterinarians, according to the Arizona State Veterinary Medical Examining Board. While only a small percentage practice alternative pet medicine, that number has rapidly swelled over the last decade.
Across the state, there are at least 150 certified vets who practice alternative treatments such as Chinese herbs, magnetic therapy and massage, according to the American Holistic Veterinary Medical Association. Much like in the world of human medicine, however, a professional conflict bristles between traditional vets and those subscribing to alternative medicine.
Herbalists, homoeopaths and other alternative veterinarians say the satisfactory results speak for themselves. Skeptics, however, maintain the remedies haven’t been proven effective.
“There is always debate and criticism no matter what the modality is—homeopathy, herbs, nutritional therapies,” says Dr. Judy Stolz, one of the Valley’s only homeopathic and holistic veterinarians. “People who make negative comments are people who have done no research at all. They typically have not read about the history of homeopathy.”
Stolz worked in traditional medicine for more than a decade before switching to alternative treatments. She believes all animals are better off with homeopathic treatments vs. drugs.
“When I used to be in a regular Western practice, when a dog came in for an ear infection or something, we would just give them the same drugs over and over again, and all it did was suppress the symptoms and make them go away temporarily,” says Stolz, who has patients across the country. “Homeopathic treatments work much better. The patient as a whole gets better and is eventually cured, instead of the symptoms just being covered up.”
But she is the first to admit it’s difficult for many people to understand and accept homeopathic medicine, especially with the time commitment it takes to work.
“People want those quick results like they get a lot of times with drugs, and usually with homeopathic medicine, it’s an ongoing process—it can take months and months and even years of treatment sometimes,” she says. “It’s a different way of thinking. It takes a certain open-mindedness.”
Critter Chiropractor
Last year, Rose Cosgrove began noticing changes in her then 9-year-old chocolate Lab, Brandy. “First, she started walking funny,” says Cosgrove of Deer Valley. “Then she started having trouble coming in the dog door, where her legs would drag behind her.”
Cosgrove took the dog to a vet and neurologist, spending hundreds of dollars in tests and X-rays, but no one could determine what was wrong with Brandy. They told Cosgrove the next step was more costly tests and a potential $8,000 surgery. Cosgrove didn’t have the money and didn’t know what to do.
“She seemed like she was getting worse,” she says. “At that point I thought I would have to put her down because she wasn’t getting better.”
Then she learned about animal chiropractic care and Dr. Adrian Marnell, owner of Arizona Animal Chiropractic. For years Marnell had worked as a chiropractor treating humans, until his own dog began suffering advanced degenerative arthritis and he began researching the effectiveness of the treatment for animals.
Since 1987 he has focused solely on pet patients, including dogs, horses and occasionally cats—although because of their natural agility, feline patients are rare.
“Although it’s been around for awhile, it’s not widely recognizable,” says Marnell. “Sometimes it’s just a matter of if people are even aware of such a thing as an animal chiropractor.”
When he sees a new patient, Marnell—who has treated pooches in the Ringling Bros. and Barnum & Bailey Circus—conducts an initial evaluation. Monitoring the animal’s movement, he feels their vertebra and joints and then uses a gadget called an activator, a handheld spring-loaded device, to deliver an impulse to the spine.
“Some animals are not wild about that. Especially if they are in pain and they start to resist you. You sometimes get bit as well,” he says. “I don’t get bit very often. I have a good repose with animals overall—I think there is an unspoken language between the two of us.”
An adjustment of the animal’s hips or spine can make a vast difference in the way the creature walks, runs and plays, he says. And on the rare occasion when the animal has suffered incurable paralysis, Marnell also recommends doggy wheelchairs as an alternative to premature euthanasia.
Pet chiropractors are rare and somewhat controversial. In Arizona, the veterinary profession considers chiropractors working on animals as practicing medicine without a license. Over the years, Marnell has received “cease and desist orders,” although he contends he’s not practicing veterinary medicine but instead practicing chiropractic on animals.
“To me it’s a throwback to years ago when medical doctors didn’t like chiropractors. What it comes right down to is it’s a turf war,” says Marnell. “The way I look at it, no heath care discipline covers everything. There’s a place for everybody.”
He says if veterinary chiropractic care can help and doesn’t make the problem worse, it’s worth giving a try. For Rose Cosgrove, the chiropractic approach has made a big difference in her dog Parker. She credits Marnell for not only saving her thousands of dollars but also giving her more healthy years with the dog she calls “my baby.” “Brandy is just as playful as ever. She’s jumping around, she’s in and out of the dog door,” says Cosgrove. “He saved my dog’s life.”
Frenzied Feline
Like most alternative pet treatments, antidepressants for animals has been used for decades, although it is still relatively unknown.
Part of the reason is many vets still don’t subscribe to psychiatric treatments, preferring to cure physical aliments instead of behavioral ones, says Dr. Erin McNulty, a veterinarian at the Brown Road Animal Clinic in Mesa. “It’s really unheard of for the most part,” says McNulty, who describes herself as a “big time advocate,” of antidepressants for animals, and even used the medication to treat her own out-of-control cat.
With both dogs and cats, drugs such as Prozac and Paxil can be an effective treatment for anxiety, aggression and problem urination, she says. Side effects are few, although sometimes the animal is more quiet and aloof on the meds, she adds.
But when they work, they can save an animal’s life and a pet owner’s sanity.
“Usually cat owners bring in the cat because they don’t want to have the cat anymore because it’s wild and urinating outside the box,” says McNulty. “By offering medications such as this, we’ve been able to save many cats from being euthanized.”
Karey Bohmer wasn’t ready to kill her cat, but she was willing to try just about anything when she brought Snookee to see Dr. Hayley Shafer at Caring Hearts Animal Clinic in Gilbert.
Still, when the vet recommended Prozac, Bohmer was a little dumbstruck. She had owned cats her entire life and never heard of such a thing.
“Cats on Prozac? I just kind of looked at her and said ‘Are you kidding me?’” says Bohmer. “I was like, are you sure the Prozac is for the cat and not for me so I can handle it?”
But because she had tried everything else, she decided to give it a shot. At first, as Shafer warned, Snookee had a strange reaction as she adjusted to the medication.
“My cat was out of it,” says Bohmer. “She didn’t care about anything. It was pouring rain outside and my cat was just outside letting it rain on her. I got a little nervous and thought, ‘What’s wrong with this cat? She’s totally stoned!’”
But Snookee also stopped urinating all over the house, and within weeks seemed more at ease and less dazed and confused. Today, she says Snookee has gone from a grumpy cat to a sweetie kitty.
“I’m amazed at the results I’ve had with it,” she says. “She’s a normal cat. It’s been just incredible.”