Advanced diagnostics, services available for pets.......
A Pomeranian hobbles on bad knees. A cat hurls constantly. Potbelly pigs, privately owned exotics and tropical birds need checkups.
A pug with the untidy habit of noshing on his own poop is hurting for a pooch-sitter. A sheltie is thrown across the road by a car that smashes his femur. A quiet mutt is fighting the good fight against lymphoma and waits patiently in the corner of the chemo room for medicine.
They are a drop in the bucket of the 16,000 annual dramatically disparate cases handled at Metropolitan Veterinary Hospital on Cleveland-Massillon Road, where infinite crises are met with an array of elite medical services unparalleled in many cities.

The burgeoning Northeast Ohio medical corridor is not limited to human medicine, veterinary oncologist Rance Gamblin points out. There are three other facilities comparable to Metro in this region, perhaps a result of the proximity to the distinguished veterinary college at Ohio State University. There are only 175 board-certified (American College of Veterinary Internal Medicine) veterinary oncologists worldwide, Gamblin said, and eight of them are practicing in Ohio.
I ambled through the newly expanded hospital for a taste of emergency room drama by the good graces of Marcia Carothers, a specialist in veterinary internal medicine, enchanted guardian of a husband, three Airedales and three cats.
The cream-colored walls of the teaching hospital would smack of institution were it not for the vibrant animal artwork prints by talents such as Andy Warhol and Ron Burns, not to mention the real thing, so the place hums with character.
The hospital is a 24-hour care facility and a referral group with eight hubs -- cardiology, ophthalmology, diagnostic imaging, specialized surgery, oncology, rehabilitation and spinal manipulation, and avian and exotic services. That's a lot to digest, with life-and-death decisions at every turn.
``We used to take dogs to human hospitals for CT scans,'' Carothers said. ``We'd take them in the back door after hours or on Sundays.''
Not anymore. A monolithic human spiral CT scanner fills a room with its awesome power. It can peer into the deepest recesses of the brain, lungs and spine in search of answers. It's quick to find nose cancer, a plague of sun-loving canines.
You've heard of endoscopy, the diagnostic tool used to look at the intestines and pinch off polyps. A black cat that has been vomiting excessively was the patient here, lazing easily on a small dose of calming drugs.

Bone reconstruction
Around the corner, a surgeon has patched the sheltie's femur with an arsenal of metals, a stainless steel plate, a series of screws and a row of wire loops, reconstructing the tube of the bone.
``It's one of those things where boys love their toys,'' vet Kerri Bowman joked, taking a jab at the beloved power tools of the manly-man vets. They're not using chain saws, however, and minimally invasive procedures are frequently an option.
A distressed brown mutt in the isolation room howled a lonely song. Infectious diseases like parvo, kennel cough and upper-respiratory diseases are walled off here. Rooms within are self-contained and self-sufficient, with a dishwasher and washer-dryer, medical supplies and a video system.
The crying canine's eyes were locked on the window, his hopes were pinned on the door.
The Akron Zoo's vet, Gary Riggs, stages his thriving practice of exotics, potbellies, birds, ferrets and pocket pets at this hospital. His area contains cages with tops so climbing creatures can't escape. Nearby is the hydrotherapy room, where animals recovering from surgery bring their legs back to life walking a treadmill in water up to their chests, which works their muscles while they're buoyant.
Metro boards pets for observation/medical procedures/overnight. The poop-eating pug is multitasking and could, hypothetically, also have dental work and a cornea implant (pacemaker, cataract surgery, cardiac surgery, even reconstructive surgery).
We passed an operating room where the 2-year-old Pom was about to have knee surgery, the tiny dog's legs -- feet swaddled in chi-chi pink sterile wrap -- poking like unattached apparitions through a sterile blanket. His luxating petallas could cripple him permanently -- but this dog is lucky. Very lucky.
Chemo for lymphoma
Metro vets see four to five new cases a day, on top of their regular patients, Gamblin said. Fifty percent are in for cancer, lymphoma being the leading type. A course of treatment to extend life, with good results lasting 12-18 months, costs an average of $4,500, he said. Most owners don't think twice.
A huge white canine is carried in on a stretcher, the four feet of the technicians timed like cylinders on a V-8. Their tight pacing gets the critical case and his dear mama through the reception area posthaste, but the two of them dissolve in a blur of grief inside, where the beautiful pet is pronounced dead on arrival from complications of chemotherapy.
He must have had a wonderful life.
``The hardest thing is working with older couples dealing with critically ill pets,'' Carothers said.
Senior citizens who lose them need companionship desperately, but are often reluctant to get new ones for fear they won't be around to care for them. Sons and daughters wielding influence should take their older family members shopping at area rescues.
The quality of human life, not to mention health, is raised immeasurably by companion animals. The reverse is also true.
Animals aren't just animals anymore, they're family, Carothers said. The emotional distance between human and creature has shrunk with the decades, an answer to the empty nest, a response to cultural depersonalization.
We wandered by the second-story medical library and conference room, where meetings and seminars are held. They are both open to all area vets, a point of pride. We checked out Carothers' office, where we found sweet Odin, her favorite Airedale (whose name means God of Thunder!) nesting contentedly in his crate. ``He's a volunteer blood donor,'' Carothers said.
``He is much happier here than he would be at home.''
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