Somehow, everyone in my area has a favorite plastic surgeon. Opinions on the subject are as widespread as those on the weather at the height of hurricane season. We love our implants, tucks and lasers. Welcome to Miami!
But it would be a mistake to assume that we women are the only combatants in the war against the bulge and other beauty-defacing features. Men, teens, everyone ... even our pets go under the knife for the seemingly de riguer reconstruction and rejuvenation in evidence on Ocean Drive and our suburban streets alike.
Yes, really. Some people do the strangest things to their pets. They crop their ears and cut their tails off. That's the kind of cosmetic stuff I'm talking about. Partly, anyway.
Because there's a whole lot more on the table when it comes to building better pets via the business end of a scalpel. Consider the neuticles (testicular implants) some owners clamor for. Or how about "salivary duct transposition" to keep them more "drool-free"? Eye tucks? "Debarking"? Ear implants (for shepherds whose ears won't stand, for example)? Artificial eyes after enucleation (eyeball removal)?
Some of these I can get behind. But only if they're done for therapeutic reasons. For example: the heavy salivator who keeps getting infections in his lip folds from all the drooling he does; the eye tuck performed because her lids curl in and hurt her corneas; the tail dock done because the tip keeps bleeding. I've done all these surgeries ... and I'd do 'em all again ... happily. Because the animals needed them.
But sometimes it's clear that an owner "just can't stand the drool" (after consciously electing a drool-prone breed), can't handle a barking dog (but they bought a beagle) or just plain likes the look of his pet with upright ears "the way nature intended" (but presumably didn't get around to).
In these cases, I'll balk. Sorry, no can do. Not "just because you want it that way." After all, my practice is not a have-it-your-way Burger King.
Then there are the borderline procedures:
I'll sometimes employ testicular implants if that's the only way the owners will acquiese to neuter a dog who suffers a testosterone-related disease. And I can understand why the owner of a pet who has lost an eye might choose a prosthetic one.
Sure, both cases are 100% cosmetic. Yet in both these cases, there is an argument that something is "lost" due to a therapeutic procedure and therefore the replacement is a low-risk add-on designed to compensate the human in some way –– because we all know we humans can get hung up on little things like eyeballs and, well ... just plain balls.
Then there are the dewclaws, usually removed at three short days of age. I'll do these, but only as long as the owners are willing to let me do it my way ... with pain relievers. And that's only because I somewhat buy into the belief that it's one way to prevent future injuries in working dogs.
Tail docks? I hate 'em. Ear crops? I used to do them, but I've long since seen the light.
And now that the AVMA (American Veterinary Medical Association) stands firmly against tail docks and ear crops, it's much easier for me to defend my position when clients complain that I won't do them.
Yes, long past are the days when every veterinarian would provide any service you asked for. Sure, many of us will still do these procedures, but don't expect the younger vets to jump at the chance to crop your dog's ears. Or declaw your cat, for that matter.
But then, declawing is the subject of a whole 'nother column.
I'll sometimes engage in a practice I call "wart whack-a-mole" (take off 12 one day only to find 12 more by month's end), especially when said warts are bleeding and infection-prone. After all, you never know which of these will (rarely) take a turn for the malignant.
I'll do eye tacks and canthoplasties. (These procedures make droopy eyes tighter and less susceptible to infection and bulging eyes less likely to pop out of place, respectively. Sure, they make the dog look better, but they actually serve a medical purpose, too.)
One of my in-house colleagues, a dentistry devotee, will restore canine crowns after root canals. We even go for orthodonture – although we farm that out to the boarded dentist – because straight teeth mean less periodiontal disease, as any self-respecting American teen will tell you.
I'll even do reconstructions, within reason. It's understandable to want your pet the way he was before his ear was torn off, though I surely wouldn't want to stress out my own pet with the extra anesthesia, cutting and bandaging.
But those wanting that ugly little scar wiped clean (just because), a stray's tail lopped off (so he looks like a proper, fearsome Rottie) or nipple tucks ("she looks so floppy after nursing her litter, Doctor")? They'll get talked out of it – or they'll have to go elsewhere.
Sure, I was born and bred in this briar patch we call South Florida, but that doesn't mean I've bought into the creepy cuts. A little nip and tuck for me? "No way!" I say now. But give me 20 years and maybe I'll be singing a different tune. Peer pressure's a bitch, after all. Here's hoping I emigrate before I assimilate.