"Whenever an animal is in anyway forced into the service of man, everyone of us must be concerned with the sufferings it has to undergo." ~ Albert Schweitzer, Alsatian Theologian, Musician, and Medical Missionary
Rodney was a sweet, gentle mixed-breed dog taken from a dog pound whose poignant story begins in a medical training lab, enduring unspeakable cruelty - repeatedly used by students to practice surgery - before being euthanized.
He was a tall, gangly, flea-bitten shepherd mix. One ear stood up, shepherd style, and the other flopped over and bounced against his head like a rag doll when he ran. His head and feet were too big for his thin but muscular body. A stale, musty odor accompanied him from flea-infested skin and neglected ears. Altogether, he wasn't much to look at - one of thousands of dogs facing the world without the luxury of an owner.
He was always happy to see the students, his tail thumping wildly against the walls of his small steel cage. For the next quarter, they would practice surgery techniques on him as part of the small animal surgery training. From the looks of him Rodney hadn't had much of a life, so a little pat and a little walk around the college complex made his day.
The first thing done was to neuter him, a seemingly benign project except it took the students an hour to complete the usual 20-minute procedure, and anesthetic overdose kept him out for 36 hours. Afterward he recovered his strength quickly and felt good.
Two weeks later they did an abdominal exploratory, opening his abdomen, checking his organ inventory, and closing him again. This was the first major surgery for any of them, and with inadequate supervision they did not close him properly. By the next morning, his incision had opened and he was sitting on his small intestine. Hastily, he was sewed up again, and he survived. But it was a week or more before he could resume the walks he had come to eagerly anticipate. He would still wag his tail when he arrived and greet the students with as much enthusiasm as he could muster.
The following week, again when he was under anesthesia, they broke his leg and repaired it with a steel pin. After this Rodney seemed in almost constant pain, his temperature rose, and he didn't rebound as he had in the past. His resiliency gone, and despite antibiotic treatment, he never recovered completely. He could no longer manage his walks, and the students' visits generated only a weak thump of his tail. The shine was gone from his brown eyes. His operated leg remained still and swollen.
The quarter was ending, and Rodney's days were numbered. One afternoon they put him to sleep.
Little Rodney's sad life had ended, in terrible pain and suffering, just one of millions of animals used in veterinary education and research who are unable to speak for themselves.
ஐ❤ஐ❤ஐ❤ஐ❤ஐ❤ஐ❤ஐ❤ஐ❤ஐ❤ஐ❤ஐ❤ஐ❤ஐ
"I believe I am not interested to know whether vivisection produces results that are profitable to the human race or doesn't. To know that the results are profitable to the race would not remove my hostility to it. The pain which it inflicts upon unconsenting animals is the basis of my enmity toward it, and it is to me sufficient justification of the enmity without looking further." ~ Mark Twain, American Novelist and Humorist
Rodney was a sweet, gentle mixed-breed dog taken from a dog pound whose poignant story begins in a medical training lab, enduring unspeakable cruelty - repeatedly used by students to practice surgery - before being euthanized.
He was a tall, gangly, flea-bitten shepherd mix. One ear stood up, shepherd style, and the other flopped over and bounced against his head like a rag doll when he ran. His head and feet were too big for his thin but muscular body. A stale, musty odor accompanied him from flea-infested skin and neglected ears. Altogether, he wasn't much to look at - one of thousands of dogs facing the world without the luxury of an owner.
He was always happy to see the students, his tail thumping wildly against the walls of his small steel cage. For the next quarter, they would practice surgery techniques on him as part of the small animal surgery training. From the looks of him Rodney hadn't had much of a life, so a little pat and a little walk around the college complex made his day.
The first thing done was to neuter him, a seemingly benign project except it took the students an hour to complete the usual 20-minute procedure, and anesthetic overdose kept him out for 36 hours. Afterward he recovered his strength quickly and felt good.
Two weeks later they did an abdominal exploratory, opening his abdomen, checking his organ inventory, and closing him again. This was the first major surgery for any of them, and with inadequate supervision they did not close him properly. By the next morning, his incision had opened and he was sitting on his small intestine. Hastily, he was sewed up again, and he survived. But it was a week or more before he could resume the walks he had come to eagerly anticipate. He would still wag his tail when he arrived and greet the students with as much enthusiasm as he could muster.
The following week, again when he was under anesthesia, they broke his leg and repaired it with a steel pin. After this Rodney seemed in almost constant pain, his temperature rose, and he didn't rebound as he had in the past. His resiliency gone, and despite antibiotic treatment, he never recovered completely. He could no longer manage his walks, and the students' visits generated only a weak thump of his tail. The shine was gone from his brown eyes. His operated leg remained still and swollen.
The quarter was ending, and Rodney's days were numbered. One afternoon they put him to sleep.
Little Rodney's sad life had ended, in terrible pain and suffering, just one of millions of animals used in veterinary education and research who are unable to speak for themselves.
ஐ❤ஐ❤ஐ❤ஐ❤ஐ❤ஐ❤ஐ❤ஐ❤ஐ❤ஐ❤ஐ❤ஐ❤ஐ
"I believe I am not interested to know whether vivisection produces results that are profitable to the human race or doesn't. To know that the results are profitable to the race would not remove my hostility to it. The pain which it inflicts upon unconsenting animals is the basis of my enmity toward it, and it is to me sufficient justification of the enmity without looking further." ~ Mark Twain, American Novelist and Humorist
"Whenever an animal is in anyway forced into the service of man, everyone of us must be concerned with the sufferings it has to undergo." ~ Albert Schweitzer, Alsatian Theologian, Musician, and Medical Missionary
Rodney was a sweet, gentle mixed-breed dog taken from a dog pound whose poignant story begins in a medical training lab, enduring unspeakable cruelty - repeatedly used by students to practice surgery - before being euthanized.
He was a tall, gangly, flea-bitten shepherd mix. One ear stood up, shepherd style, and the other flopped over and bounced against his head like a rag doll when he ran. His head and feet were too big for his thin but muscular body. A stale, musty odor accompanied him from flea-infested skin and neglected ears. Altogether, he wasn't much to look at - one of thousands of dogs facing the world without the luxury of an owner.
He was always happy to see the students, his tail thumping wildly against the walls of his small steel cage. For the next quarter, they would practice surgery techniques on him as part of the small animal surgery training. From the looks of him Rodney hadn't had much of a life, so a little pat and a little walk around the college complex made his day.
The first thing done was to neuter him, a seemingly benign project except it took the students an hour to complete the usual 20-minute procedure, and anesthetic overdose kept him out for 36 hours. Afterward he recovered his strength quickly and felt good.
Two weeks later they did an abdominal exploratory, opening his abdomen, checking his organ inventory, and closing him again. This was the first major surgery for any of them, and with inadequate supervision they did not close him properly. By the next morning, his incision had opened and he was sitting on his small intestine. Hastily, he was sewed up again, and he survived. But it was a week or more before he could resume the walks he had come to eagerly anticipate. He would still wag his tail when he arrived and greet the students with as much enthusiasm as he could muster.
The following week, again when he was under anesthesia, they broke his leg and repaired it with a steel pin. After this Rodney seemed in almost constant pain, his temperature rose, and he didn't rebound as he had in the past. His resiliency gone, and despite antibiotic treatment, he never recovered completely. He could no longer manage his walks, and the students' visits generated only a weak thump of his tail. The shine was gone from his brown eyes. His operated leg remained still and swollen.
The quarter was ending, and Rodney's days were numbered. One afternoon they put him to sleep.
Little Rodney's sad life had ended, in terrible pain and suffering, just one of millions of animals used in veterinary education and research who are unable to speak for themselves.
ஐ❤ஐ❤ஐ❤ஐ❤ஐ❤ஐ❤ஐ❤ஐ❤ஐ❤ஐ❤ஐ❤ஐ❤ஐ
"I believe I am not interested to know whether vivisection produces results that are profitable to the human race or doesn't. To know that the results are profitable to the race would not remove my hostility to it. The pain which it inflicts upon unconsenting animals is the basis of my enmity toward it, and it is to me sufficient justification of the enmity without looking further." ~ Mark Twain, American Novelist and Humorist
Rodney was a sweet, gentle mixed-breed dog taken from a dog pound whose poignant story begins in a medical training lab, enduring unspeakable cruelty - repeatedly used by students to practice surgery - before being euthanized.
He was a tall, gangly, flea-bitten shepherd mix. One ear stood up, shepherd style, and the other flopped over and bounced against his head like a rag doll when he ran. His head and feet were too big for his thin but muscular body. A stale, musty odor accompanied him from flea-infested skin and neglected ears. Altogether, he wasn't much to look at - one of thousands of dogs facing the world without the luxury of an owner.
He was always happy to see the students, his tail thumping wildly against the walls of his small steel cage. For the next quarter, they would practice surgery techniques on him as part of the small animal surgery training. From the looks of him Rodney hadn't had much of a life, so a little pat and a little walk around the college complex made his day.
The first thing done was to neuter him, a seemingly benign project except it took the students an hour to complete the usual 20-minute procedure, and anesthetic overdose kept him out for 36 hours. Afterward he recovered his strength quickly and felt good.
Two weeks later they did an abdominal exploratory, opening his abdomen, checking his organ inventory, and closing him again. This was the first major surgery for any of them, and with inadequate supervision they did not close him properly. By the next morning, his incision had opened and he was sitting on his small intestine. Hastily, he was sewed up again, and he survived. But it was a week or more before he could resume the walks he had come to eagerly anticipate. He would still wag his tail when he arrived and greet the students with as much enthusiasm as he could muster.
The following week, again when he was under anesthesia, they broke his leg and repaired it with a steel pin. After this Rodney seemed in almost constant pain, his temperature rose, and he didn't rebound as he had in the past. His resiliency gone, and despite antibiotic treatment, he never recovered completely. He could no longer manage his walks, and the students' visits generated only a weak thump of his tail. The shine was gone from his brown eyes. His operated leg remained still and swollen.
The quarter was ending, and Rodney's days were numbered. One afternoon they put him to sleep.
Little Rodney's sad life had ended, in terrible pain and suffering, just one of millions of animals used in veterinary education and research who are unable to speak for themselves.
ஐ❤ஐ❤ஐ❤ஐ❤ஐ❤ஐ❤ஐ❤ஐ❤ஐ❤ஐ❤ஐ❤ஐ❤ஐ
"I believe I am not interested to know whether vivisection produces results that are profitable to the human race or doesn't. To know that the results are profitable to the race would not remove my hostility to it. The pain which it inflicts upon unconsenting animals is the basis of my enmity toward it, and it is to me sufficient justification of the enmity without looking further." ~ Mark Twain, American Novelist and Humorist
