Things you probably didn't know about Harvey Cushing, pioneering neurosurgeon

Stranded on a tropical island with Harvey Cushing. Sort of.

Harvey Cushing was not a vet but a trail-blazing brain surgeon after whom the endocrinopathy Cushing’s syndrome is named. We treat Cushing’s, or hyperadrenocorticism, medically (with very few exceptions), but the man himself is still renowned for his surgical skills. Thanks to the work of Canadian historian Michael Bliss, Cushing was my ever-present companion in the Cook Islands. I'm not sure that the real-life Cushing would have approved of the bars we sat in or the casual island dress code, but in his time he was an adventurer of the bravest sort.

Bliss also wrote abiography of the physician William Osler, a mentor and neighbour of Cushing’s. In fact, Cushing wrote the first biography of Osler and the man didn’t do things by halves. The first draft was one million words long. He was a puritan, a workaholic, and a bit of a grump by all accounts (sometimes he role-models what not to do), yet Harvey Cushing: A Life in Surgery is a book I found hard to put down.

Here are ten things I learned about Dr Cushing.

Cush, as he was known, struggled with uni – like just about every vet and medical student in history. 

An entry from his diary in second year: “June 14, 9.30: Anguish. Will go to Materia Medica exam w. despair depicted on my face & shame in my soul. I am not sufficiently bright or well memoried to take such subjects & know anything about them.”

When he was an undergraduate, surgery wasn't the respectable profession it is today - but that changed during his career.

In the 1890s, when Cushing graduated, surgery remained a frontier, the realm of cowboys and butchers. As Bliss writes: “When all else failed, the surgeon with his knives and saws and blood-stained frock coat was called in to strap down the patient, give everyone whisky, take some himself, and go to it. Now, though [ie when Cush graduated] the surgeons came armed not only with anaesthesia but with the ability to limit infection through the anti- and aseptical…As surgery became relatively painless and germ-free, it was transformed in one generation from a cut, run and pray business, stinking of pus and gangrene, into an almost routine, ‘medical’ procedure. Surgeons quickly began to extend their range from the surfaces of the body and its major orifices into its previously sacred cavities. Surgery worked – not just in the crude way that, say, amputation worked, but in more conservative, less heroic ways: to repair broken and ruptured organs and to save limbs and tissue that would otherwise have been lost.” P85.

In the past, the best surgeons were the fastest – often also the roughest. Cushing was famously slow and delicate. He had been mentored by Halstead whom, despite being a hopeless cocaine addict, was a meticulous, slow surgeon with exceptional tissue handling skills that veterinary surgeons are still taught today.

When Cushing started out, most operations were performed literally on the table – the dining room table of the patient. Halstead’s generation apparently believed (possibly rightly) that patient’s homes were less septic than hospitals back then.

He put his life in the hands of his very unreliable mentor.

Despite knowing his mentor’s weaknesses (Halstead would often flee halfway through surgery), on September 28, 1897, Halstead had to remove Cushing’s appendix, just days after Cushing had lost one of his own patients to a ruptured appendix. The team had only done a handful of appendectomies, and Halstead had repeatedly expressed his distaste for working inside the abdomen. Cushing wrote a will of sorts and the op went ahead – uneventfully. Days later the wound became infected and broke down, and had to be resutured. “We have been bragging of our summer record of 200 cases or more without suppuration,” he wrote home. “I have broken the series.”

On the topic of infection, Cushing copped a needlestick one morning which became infected. The patient whose germs he inoculated himself with died. “What serious things we dabble in at times,” he wrote. He recovered without incident.

Cushing was a harsh, brutally honest self-critic who wasn't shy about sharing his failures. 

He kept meticulous statistics about operative outcomes – and even published about his failures. In one case report he wrote: “It is difficult to record fatalities due to operations, which ordinarily have a successful termination, without attempting on some grounds or another to excuse the unhappy outcome. There is none to offer in this case…Whatever may have been the underlying condition, the operation was the immediate cause of death and should have been abandoned at the time of the patient’s beginning failure” p160. As Bliss points out, Cushing was more publicly critical of himself than “any surgeon could be in today’s litigious world.”

Cushing carried out a lot of animal experiments, mostly on dogs, to the protest of the antivivisectionist movement. 

According to Bliss, in order to make this practice less offensive, Cushing invited residents of Baltimore to refer sick animals to his assistants in the lab and developed a quasi consulting veterinary practice. “One of Baltimore’s most militant antivivisectionists was won over, he claimed, when they removed a disfiguring tumour from her pet poodle.”p197.

Despite punching in long days in surgery, he wrote 5000-10000 words every day. 

He had an army of secretaries (who nicknamed themselves “the harem”) who did a huge amount of work for him, but even on impossibly exhausting days he would write several thousand words in his detailed diaries.

Another blissful moment with Harvey Cushing.

Cushing and his contemporaries struggled with the same curricular controversies hounding veterinary schools to this day.

He loathed politics but working in university teaching hospitals meant butting heads over medical curricula, amongst other things. He felt that pre-clinical sciences were taking over the curriculum at the expense of clinical work, when “90 per cent of the students wanted to learn how to practice medicine, not to do research” (p394).

Cushing, whose dad Kirke was a general practitioner, always sang the praises of the “good country doctor”, who could show up hospital specialists running suites of tests. “Careful studies of our patients are not to be superseded by snap diagnoses; yet the incident illustrates…the over-emphasis laid on the accumulation of often unessential laboratory data, and the under-emphasis on what may be learned by a trained observer from a thorough bedside study of the patient…I do not believe that students can begin to think in terms of the patient too early in their course, nor too early begin to interpret and record what they can see, hear, and touch – perhaps even smell and taste – at the bedside.” P395. [Fortunately, tasting isn’t a technique routinely employed in current veterinary or medical practice].

He performed major, successful brain surgery minutes after hearing of the death of his son.

Cushing was a workaholic who famously neglected his family, much to his wife Kate’s chagrin. On June 12, 1926, his son William was killed in a car accident along with several others. Cushing took the call at work as he was prepping to remove a tumour from a young woman. He phoned his wife, went into the operating theatre, performed the surgery successfully and told the team after. Some may have seen this as a reflection of his incredible ability to focus; others might have read it as detachment from his family.

Cushing was performing brain surgery before any kind of imaging became available, without technology that most of us take for granted. 

He felt that a good surgeon, apart from requiring excellent tissue handling, had some sort of ‘x-factor’, surgical judgement – which even the experienced could not always reliably harness. “When to take great risks; when to withdraw in the face of unexpected difficulties; whether to force an attempted nucleation of a pathologically favourable tumour to its completion with the prospect of an operative fatality, or to abandon the procedure short of completeness with the certainty that after months or years even greater risks may have to be faced at a subsequent session – all this takes surgical judgement which is a matter of long experience and which can scarcely be transmitted by the written word.

Surgical judgement, indeed, is a more or less inspirational quality which is variable and elusive, all surgeons being conscious of having it in hand on some occasions, of losing it on others. It is a good deal like a game which even the best and most consistent player foozles for some unaccountable reason at certain times. The surgery of brain tumours may be likened without being trivial to a form of major sport which is played against all invisible but utterly relentless antagonist quick to take advantage of every misplay and faulty move.”p457. He was often brutal and unethical in his pursuit of the post mortem, in one case bribing a funeral director for access to a brain – but this sort of post-hoc imaging was vital and he made full use of it to refine his practice.

He was a prolific smoker, and realised only too late the damage this habit had wreaked on his circulation. 

As he was in hospital having toes amputated due to gangrene, consultants would come in and grab a cigarette before examining him. “There is no question whatever but that tobacco is extremely damaging to the neuro-vascular system,” he wrote. “It is unfortunate that the victims of the habit are often doctors and still more often highly-strung surgeons who are loath to acknowledge to other lay-habitues the damaging effect of tobacco…There seems to be at present no possible legislation to prevent the radio advertising of tobacco as a source of ‘chemical consolation’.” P508. 

For anyone remotely interested in surgery or the history of medicine, this book is a brilliant read.

Interview with volunteer veterinarian Dr Barry Nicholls

Companion animals need help in all kinds of places. Dr Nicholls discusses how vets and vet students can lend a hand.

As we continue our Cook Islands theme this week, SAT had the opportunity to interview Dr Barry Nicholls, a veterinarian who was bitten by the volunteering bug. Volunteering is something we tend to think about early on in our careers, but we can say from experience that it gets more rewarding. And there's nothing like a field hospital to open your eyes to different ways of doing things, as Dr Nicholls explains. He has volunteered not only in Cook Islands, but around the world.

Dr Nicholls and wife Anna with a patient.

Where did you come from and where did you do your vet training?

I am from Anniston in Northeast Alabama (USA) and attended Auburn University.

What prompted you to want to become a vet?

I have always had an interest in the biological sciences and a fascination with animals: wildlife and pets. 

What is your regular job?

I am one of seven doctors in a busy 24-hour practice. We see small animal patients - from dogs and cats to birds, snakes, iguanas.

How did you become a veterinary volunteer?

It really all started when I read an article in a veterinary journal about the Esther Honey Foundation (EHF). Volunteering there seemed like an exciting and altruistic thing to do so I contacted Cathy Sue Anunsen and found out a veterinarian was needed for a few weeks in the winter of 1996. I "signed up" and my wife gamely agreed to go along. The experience at EHF was life-changing. The local Cook Islanders were so friendly, helpful and appreciative.

The EHF is fortunate enough to have a clinic. This photo is an example of a field hospital station from another volunteer spay/neuter program. Knowing what to pack is important!

Can you tell us about the places you have volunteered?

Some of the places have been operational clinics (actual buildings), but I have worked temporary stints in other places in whatever building, shed, school, etc. was provided; once even an old jail. Makes volunteering interesting. Countries so far: Costa Rica, Honduras, Colombia, Nicaragua, Thailand, Panama, Cook Islands. 

What do you like about being a volunteer?

The best: the feeling that you are making a difference.

The camaraderie is also fun and the feeling that you are, sort of, "a local".

What different skills does a volunteer veterinarian need?

It's important to have a broad range of veterinary skills along with good communication skills. But, far and away, the most important skill is a willingness to adapt and work with what you have on hand.

What sorts of things do you always pack when you go on a volunteer mission?

I always take a good headlamp (200 lumens with rechargeable battery) for surgery and a pair of good needle holders. A vial of surgical glue often comes in handy too.

Now, I also always take gigli wire in addition to a special Gerber knife after a volunteer stint in Nicaragua in which I had to amputate the hindlimb of a pet dog. The dog was brought in to our sterilization clinic with a severe fracture and vascular injury to her distal tibia / paw. We had no gigli wire, no bone saw. So, I used the serrated edge of a Gerber knife to saw through the femur while 12 Nicaraguan children watched. Fortunately, the dog did fine. I received followup photos 6 weeks post-op and she was managing well on three legs.

Which have been your favourite places to volunteer and why?

Esther Honey runs a model clinic to me and I am very comfortable there.

Also - Phangan Animal Care in Koh Phangan, Thailand, because of the friendly and helpful staff.

Volunteering can be hard work, the hours are long and the patients don't stop needed help. But it often offers unique opportunities to recharge.

For various reasons, some veterinarians and vet students are unable to volunteer (financial, family commitments etc.). How can they make a difference?

Those who can't go can always be "a connector" - spreading the word about the good organizations that are out there.

Another way to help: Helping to collect supplies (for example, extra suture or bandage material) is often needed by non-profit groups. Couriers can sometimes be found to take these supplies.

Finding a sponsor would be a way to overcome the financial obstacle for a vet student or young veterinarian. 

Thank you Dr Nicholls for your time!

Three things I learned about hermit crabs

Hermit crab on Aitutaki, possibly the most beautiful place in the world.

The Cook Islands is home to variety of hermit crab species, the cutest decapod crustaceans around. Initially I had no idea who was making those mysterious tracks across the sand every night…til I traced a set to a conical shell that wobbled slightly. After a minute or so a pair of delicate antennae emerged, followed by a stunning set of legs that appeared to form a skirt that carried him or her away.

Is anyone home? This damaged shell gives us a peak at the way hermit crabs fold their legs when they are hiding or "shutting the front door").

If you wait they slowly emerge, antennae first (hard to see in this pic but they're orange) then legs.

Ready to crab-walk around.

I’ve seen hermit crabs sold at pet shops but never lived with nor spent much time with these critters. They love to get around. Some of them walked from halfway up the beach right to the doorstep of my accommodation (a few hundred metres at least). It made me seriously reflect on the lives of the hermit crabs I've seen in pet stores and by extension their lives at home...do they have enough space to carry out their natural behaviour? Is isolation detrimental? (they seem to love hanging out in groups). How do you enrich the environment of a hermit crab? They certainly seem pretty cluey (and they can definitely feel pain).

Here are a few things I learned about them this week.

1. Hermit crabs don’t look like your average crab. When they are naked or without a shell, they tend to have a soft, asymmetrical abdomen, curled - all the better for spiralling into a conical shell.
2. They use second-hand shells to move into, but are known to move into non-shell homes: garden ornaments, bits of wood, or Lego  – they’re adaptable. New homes must be found as crabs grow bigger. A good shell is hard to find, which is another reason why beachcombers should leave their finds on the shore. (You can watch a shell change here). 
3. They get into some serious fights over shells, sometimes prying another crab out to steal his or her home. Some species use “vacancy chains” when moving into a new shell. When it works well this involves the formation of a queue around a new shell, with the largest crab first in line. He moves into the shell, then the next-biggest crab moves into his shell, and so on.

Hermit crab looks sideways.

Interestingly, the hermit crabs on Aitutaki (population 2000) were MUCH more outgoing and less shy than those on Rarotonga (population around 13000) which raises the question of whether they are more vary of humans the more interactions they have.

For which I might add I am responsible too.

One of my favourite hermit crab sites is Project Hermies which clearly began as a school project.

It provides a huge amount of info including a handy comparison of the properties of humans and hermit crabs. My favourite is the special features category:

Humans	Hermies
Dominant animal for planet earth	Social animals that generally live in large colonies
Social and community oriented	Borrow other animal’s shells to live in and protect their bodies with
Large brain capacity	Nocturnal activity
Farming and industry to support our lifestyle
Biggest threat to the safety and ecology of all other life on this planet

Another fabulous thing about hermit crabs is that they tend to congregate in stunning locations. Its definitely worth meeting them in their own territory.

Hermit crabs live here. They're doing something right!

Caring for the animals of the South Pacific: Interview with Cathy Sue Ragan Anunsen, founder and CEO of the Esther Honey Foundation

Cathy Sue Ragan Anunsen, founder of the Esther Honey Foundation, has always been an advocate for animals (Photo by Keith Gunnar).

Lots of people love animals, but some are better able to put those sentiments into action. Cathy Sue Ragan Anunsen is a dynamo - animal lover and mover of mountains. She tells SAT how an innocent holiday to the Cook Islands has turned into an international effort to care for the country's critters.

Can you tell us a little about who you are and what you do?

I’m a former mental health therapist, animal advocate and currently the President and CEO of the Esther Honey Foundation. My husband and I live in a cottage perched on the edge of two large ponds that are tucked in the center of a mixed forest. We devoted two decades to developing the gardens and wildlife habitat within the small wooded acreage which we share with two extremely entertaining terrier puppies, that my son rescued and delivered to me last Mother’s Day, and a tolerant ginger cat named Felix. The results of our garden design efforts were featured in Architectural Digest Magazine several years ago but the biggest reward is being able to provide a safe and nurturing space for a large variety of birds and other wildlife.

A blue heron enjoys the habitat.

When did you become involved in animal issues?

I have always been fascinated by animals. My first word was “Andrew”, the name of my Grandmother Esther’s cat, which contributes to my belief that some people have an innate connection with animals.

I guess my initial “rescues” occurred in the first grade when I was late for school on rainy days because I had stopped to scoop up stranded earthworms from the sidewalk to prevent them from being squished by other children sloshing their way to school.

My involvement with animals when I was younger was limited to caring for the usual suspects, a number of dogs, cats, gerbils, mice, white rats, an opossum, a skunk and a baby goat -- I’m sure I’ve missed some. My father owned several businesses including raising cattle. One evening when I went with him to check on what was then a small herd I began petting the face of a large steer who came up to me at the fence line. Looking into his large brown eyes as I scratched around his ears I suddenly realized that it was wrong for me to eat meat. This was not a popular decision within my family.

Later, like many people, I was horrified by the clubbing of harp seals and started an organization to raise funds to send to Greenpeace. Thanks to Country Joe and the Fish (Yes, that Country Joe of Woodstock fame) who generously performed without compensation, we were able to raise and send $10,000 directly to Greenpeace and their volunteers on the ice flows.

Not long after, I read an article about black bears being shot by timber companies for awaking after hibernation and trying to survive temporarily by eating portions of the bark on trees. I wanted to help find a non-lethal solution and called Cleveland Amory, renowned writer, co-founder of the Humane Society of the US and founder of the Fund for Animals.  Within a few days, Cleveland flew to Oregon to help protect the bears by adding his considerable resources to help me challenge the politically and financially powerful timber companies.

Cleveland Amory with Cathy-Sue.

Shortly after meeting Cleveland he asked me to serve as the Fund’s regional coordinator where I helped design programs to educate the public, media, government officials and stakeholders regarding wildlife issues and to serve on the steering committee of one of the first state-wide initiatives introduced by the Fund for Animals and the Humane Society of the United States. These efforts contributed to the passage of ground-breaking wildlife protection laws for black bears and cougars in the State of Oregon.

When I learned that the US National Park Service planned to hire sharp-shooters in helicopters to kill all of the goats in the Olympic National Park I knew that there had to be a better, kinder way to resolve the issue. I was appointed to the National Park Service Olympic National Park Mountain Goat Management Advisory Committee (whew) and, on behalf of the Fund for Animals Initiated and led the national campaign opposing the National Park Services' lethal plan.  

The campaign generated nation-wide interest and extensive media coverage ranging from the New York Times, Wall Street Journal and the NBC Nightly News to Sports Illustrated and National Geographic. This 13 year effort to prevent the extermination of the Olympic Mountain goats was a success, and their population numbers remain stable. I am especially proud of my contributions to the lengthy endeavour that helped ensure that these majestic animals remain in the park.

Scallywags...Rags and Maggie.

How did you find yourself in the Cook Islands?

My family traveled to the Cook Islands to celebrate our wedding anniversary.

What was the condition your family gave you?

Because of the time I devoted to animal issues, my family asked for a promise that during our holiday in the Cook Islands I would not get involved in ANY animal matters.

Why do you find it hard to stay away from animal issues?

I just feel compelled to do whatever I can to end or prevent animal suffering, mistreatment and abuse of power. The drive is partly self-serving in that once I become aware of the issue I cannot rest until I have done something to help. 

What was the animal situation like before the EHF started?

I was advised that there was no veterinarian for the country’s estimated 14,000 cats and dogs. Officials were shooting dogs to control their population. I was told that more than 1,000 dogs had already been shot.

Who is Esther Honey?

Esther was my paternal grandmother whose cat was “Andrew” and Honey was the name of the golden Raro dog with a white heart-shaped mark on her forehead. She adopted my family in 1993 as we exited our airport van at the Lagoon Lodges.  She followed us from the van to the check-in desk and then to our lodge where we began our life-changing friendship.  Over those few weeks I was inspired by her sweet face, resourcefulness, ingenuity and powerful spirit.

How did you come to be involved in the Esther Honey Foundation?

I had read a notice in the local paper about an anti-cruelty group being organized on the island. I had extended my stay for a week and my family had returned to Oregon. I felt that I had abided by my promise and was now free to contribute to the new group in honor of Honey. When their representative came by my accommodation to collect the check he asked if he could talk with me about the animal situation in the Cook Islands. More than eight hours later, I found myself promising to try to find a veterinarian who would donate his services. It wasn’t until I returned home, faxed the question “what equipment and supplies to you have’ and received the one-word response: “forceps”   that I began to realize the potential enormity of that promise.

Cathy Sue.

When the EHF started you were adamant that meticulous records be kept from the start. Why is this important and why is it something other animal organisation should consider?

I didn’t ask for financial compensation but I did value my time, our volunteers’ time and our donors’ contributions, and wanted to be certain that our joint efforts were going to do more than offer a temporary band-aid to a never ending problem.

The program model of providing a week or two of free spay/neuter and up-skilling a local vet before moving on to another island is certainly important to those individual numbers treated but it is very unlikely that it will likely result in any significant long-lasting change. I wanted our time and funds to be used wisely to work toward a measurable and permanent improvement in the lives and health of the animals and their community.

To achieve this goal, it was vital that we document our services and expenditures to ensure that the information would be there to be used by the Esther Honey Foundation and others who want to learn from our long-term non-lethal animal population control programs. Our last census documented that EHF’s scientifically-proven spay/neuter program reduced the dog population on Rarotonga from 6,000 to 1,666 with 71.19% of the remaining 1,666 dogs desexed. Our 2013 census is now underway. When completed we will learn whether the number of dogs has continued to decline, remained the same or increased. Whatever the outcome, we will learn from the information collected.

You work seven days a week. How come? What sort of work do

you do for the organisation?

In addition to all of the US Administrative responsibilities, I communicate daily with the clinic administrator on management and program matters. I am also responsible for recruiting and coordinating the tenures of an average of 80 volunteers annually.

Esther Honey and our supporters purchase an average of just under $100,000 in new drugs, supplies and equipment annually (in addition to donated recently-expired products). The majority of the solicitation and organization of transport of these goods is done through this office.

How many animals has the EHF helped?

The Esther Honey Foundation has treated 38,000 animals and S/N more than 14,000. Last year alone we served 14,953 meals to the animals in our care and rehomed 244 homeless.

How can vets become involved?

To date, 345 generous veterinarians have volunteered their time with the Esther Honey Foundation. We would welcome inquiries at info@estherhoney.org. 

In memory of Sacha: family dog and Cook Islands personality

Sacha: "Awesome dog".

Located in Avarua in the Cook Islands, Café Jireh is a good place to stop for a coffee fix – but it’s also home to a very personal, very moving memorial to Sacha, a much-loved family dog.

Visitors are not uncommonly moved to tears as they read manager Brian, Rachael, Jackson, Tama and Ruby's beautiful tribute to their dog, and I found myself crying in the cafe. It is a very sad story - but the bond this family had with their "fourth child" was something really special.

With their permission I’ve reproduced the text from Sacha's memorial below.

This display is in remembrance of our much loved family member and Cafe Jireh Icon ‘’Sacha’’ who was tragically run over outside the cafe (*see details below) in her daily sun tanning spot on Monday December the 3^rd 2012 at 10.00am and died on Wednesday 5^th December 2012 at 5.00pm at the age of 3 ½, born in New Zealand 28^th May 2009 in Kaipara Flats, Warkworth and Died here in Rarotonga.

From chasing wild pigs and rats in New Zealand to terrorizing Mina birds, chickens, moko lizards, rocks, rats, Tupa crabs and any other dog  or person she didn’t like the look of that ventured too close to Cafe Jireh.

She attended every Celebration on The Rock Church early Morning Prayer meeting and School of Leaders, a dedicated Church member who tended to fend off and bark at anyone who was not part of the Church’s prayer meeting. Was always ready and excited for anyone wanting to ‘’throw me a rock’’ as they departed the morning meeting heading to the cafe for a coffee. 

She was also the most elusive touch rugby player who enjoyed showing off her tremendous turn of speed, stamina and Israel Dagg like sidestep, all the while keeping an eye on any Mina bird or dog that thought it may invade the field of play, if so she would chase it off in a verbal barrage of barks that would scare any intruder. She would have easily made it into any All Black or Kiwi team if she chose too.

At home in Avana she attended Brian’s early morning prayer walks, pouncing on any crab or fish that may be lurking in the shallow water of the harbour, lazed around in the hammock or on Rach’s couch ‘’Get off the couch Sacha!’’ could be heard most mornings. She constantly fended off the 40 odd wild chickens that daily invade the property, managing to kill off the odd small one but running away from the mother hens if they looked aggressive, constantly trying to catch ‘’no tail’’ the resident moko lizard that would always be just too high up on the wall to catch, even in the dark of night she could be heard earnestly trying to get ‘’no tail’’.

Sacha always enjoyed a belly rub or a quick play anytime of the day or night, learning to roll over for any bits of food that may be on the offering. When growled she would simply roll over onto her back and with the look of complete innocence deny all allegations.  Loved to play with “Nikao’’ the neighbour’s dog, “You can’t catch me, you can’t catch me’’ she would go around and around the house at full speed with a huge grin on her face. She was taught to ride on the scooter after a lengthy training period, although not her favourite means of transport, loved the air conditioning in the Toyota Vitz much better!!!

Didn’t enjoy any storms or windy nights, she would sneak into the bedroom in the dark of night ‘’Park up’’ on one of the floor rugs or try a sneaky ‘’I’ll just sleep on Tama’s bed, no one will notice me...’’ with the look of complete innocence on her face. Didn’t like the water, even after a few training swims. Hated being washed, when Tama approached with the towel in hand she would immediately run under the bed and would have to be coaxed out, once washed she would blast around the property  until she found the nearest dirt pile and have an enjoyable back rub all to the voice of Tama ‘’Get out of it Sacha’’!

Sacha is greatly missed by all; we will always have happy memories of her antics and be grateful for the time she was with us. Thanks for those who prayed and sent their regards, you are awesome.

Close up of one of the photos: Sacha chasing a crab.

 *How Sacha Died

An explanation of how our friend died, by Brian Aitken.

Monday morning around 10.00am I was cooking in the cafe and saw a car pull in, Sacha would sleep in the car park in the sun. As I saw the car come in I could see that Sacha would be run over so I yelled out to her, it was too late as she was in a deep sleep and the car ran straight over her stomach/chest area.

I immediately yelled to Rach and we both went outside, Sacha had run around the side of the building and was barking and shaking, I knew then that this would not be good as she is a small dog and it was a big car. Rach immediately took her to the vet at Esther honey, she was examined and pronounced ‘’only minor injuries, a couple of days and she would be fine but you will need to keep an eye on her if she deteriorates bring her in’’ I knew it was bad and wanted her to have an x-ray but it was broken down.

We took Sacha home Monday night and her breathing was bad, I knew she had a punctured lung or something but didn’t want to alarm the family, after staying up late and praying for her I went to sleep knowing that she might not make it but hoping she would. I took her back to the vet on the Tues morning and they put a drip into her and would check on her throughout the day. That afternoon she seemed to have gotten better but still had the bad breathing which I didn’t like, we were hoping that she would only have bad bruising and would recover and all would be back to normal. She stayed at the vets Tuesday night, Wednesday morning I checked again and the breathing seemed worse, the vet said he would ring if anything happened.

Rach got a call at 2:30pm saying for us to come in as Sacha was deteriorating, I picked up my boys from school and told them the news, we all cried and the boys couldn’t really believe what was happening. We arrived at the vets and Sacha was not good, short breaths but still standing up, we all cried and I texted and called for people to pray for her, hoping for her to be healed. The vet said they had drained 100mLs of blood from her lungs and it wasn’t good, a 50/50 chance of survival.

We continued to pray and believe for a miracle and went home. We felt she would make it. At 5pm the vet called and said Sacha had died on the operating table, her lungs had filled with blood and her heart had stopped. We all cried again and off we went to pick up our “4^th child” as Simone Feao put it. 

It was very hard seeing Sacha there, she was still warm and I expected her to wake up like ‘’Lazarus” we all cried and prayed on the way home. Life did not return to Sacha, Jackson went straight to work, digging a grave, Ruby wailed like a Maori Tangi was happening, Tama Sobbed, Rach cried and I did all 4,not believing really but having to. In the late evening as darkness crept in we gave Sacha a final lap of her home, gathered up all her belongings: 2 beds, unopened dog food, shampoo, her dinner from Monday night that she didn’t eat, toys, her dog collar and tag and a few rocks that she carried around, anything that she liked. We had our own funeral service in the dark and each said a few teary words, we buried her near the wild chickens she terrorized and said goodbye to our very much loved and missed family member and friend, ‘’Sacha’’.

We will play again my friend! Brian

The sign outside Cafe Jireh.