Janey Lowes - Janey the Vet: Saving Sri Lankas Street Dogs

First published in Great Britain in 2020 by
Michael OMara Books Limited
9 Lion Yard
Tremadoc Road
London SW4 7NQ

Copyright Janey Lowes and Emma Donnan 2020

All rights reserved. You may not copy, store, distribute, transmit, reproduce or otherwise make available this publication (or any part of it) in any form, or by any means (electronic, digital, optical, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise), without the prior written permission of the publisher. Any person who does any unauthorized act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.

A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

ISBN: 978 1 78929 199 5 in hardback print format
ISBN: 978 1 78929 200 8 in ebook format

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CONTENTS

To Finn, my darling boy, and all the resilient and brave lost doggies who continue to inspire me and push me forward every day. You are the reason behind everything I do and I cant thank you enough for showing me what unconditional love and true grit are. And to Fred and Vinura, our too-soon departed WECare heroes, who helped save so many others with their love, compassion and dedication towards those who are ignored by so many.

I d come in early to my vet practice in Sri Lanka, supposedly for some peace and quiet to work out what to do with Rosie, a poor pup who had come in with a serious jaw injury. Despite my best efforts, the signs werent looking good.

It seems she had picked up food laced with explosives and was now obviously in excruciating pain. Some of the farmers in the nearby village thought this was a good way to deal with the wild boar that had been destroying their fences of late, but of course it was inevitable that other animals, including dogs, were eating the food. I had tried to patch poor Rosie up as best as I could the day before, and she was on heavy pain relief, but whether she would ever be able to eat again remained to be seen. I felt I needed to find a better way to repair her jaw, but without an X-ray machine in our makeshift clinic it was a tough ask.

Id only just lifted Rosie onto the treatment table and started examining her for overnight developments, when Jo, the office manager of the WECare clinic, came through.

A dog has been bitten by a crocodile and is on her way here.

I glanced up in surprise. Once a croc got involved, survivors were rare.

Apparently she wriggled free at an opportune moment, Jo shrugged, but her sides are in bits, so the owner is on his way with her.

If the dog was to survive, I imagined she was going to need extensive and urgent surgery. Not ideal when I desperately needed to give Rosie my full attention before the nurses arrived to run through the updates on the thirty dogs that were currently being treated in the clinic. The kennels and garden area were overflowing with pups who needed our help.

There was the blind Alsatian who had been dumped on our doorstep last night, plus the road traffic accident injuries, the amputations, the STDs (yup, dogs get them too, but more on that later!), the maggots Sri Lanka might have a beautiful tropical climate perfect for sunbathing and exploring as a tourist, but it was also ideal for maggots, and it felt like we had them coming out of our own ears, never mind those of the dogs.

Come look at this! Jono, one of the clinic volunteers, shouted through. An Aussie surfer and dog lover, this job and the islands lifestyle were perfect for him.

I went through to where he had been working on physio with Timmy. The poor chap had come in after being hit by a tuk-tuk and he had not taken well to the amputation of his back leg, refusing for the last couple of weeks to even try and walk on three legs. Instead he had lain in his cage, listless, and disinterested in any interaction. I had been worrying what the future held for him.

Stay over there and call him over, Jono instructed.

I bent down, holding out for the slightest glimmer of an improvement. Come on then, Timmy my lovely! and carried on muttering encouraging words.

Tentatively Timmy heaved his white and tan body onto three legs and began shakily making his way towards me, one slow hop at a time.

Arriving, he promptly sat at my feet, and I couldnt stop praising him, absolutely delighted at the improvement. As he looked up at me with these big trusting eyes, that finally looked to have some life and happiness back in them, I knew Timmy was going to be okay again.

I smiled as I headed back to work out how to move forward with Rosie. Some days I wondered what had possessed me to give up my nice life in the UK five years ago and move to Sri Lanka to work with the street dogs. But moments like this one right here were my answer. Missing family and friends, constantly scraping around for money even doing without proper chocolate and Wotsit crisps were all worth it, if every day I could give dogs like Timmy a second chance at life.

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

T he first true love of my life was called Finn. As soon as I set eyes on him at sixteen years old I told my colleagues he was perfect for me, and soon he was by my side for eleven blissful years. Whether it was walking on the fell or snuggling in bed, I couldnt think of anyone else I would rather be with. And those big brown eyes they would melt anyones heart.

Finn was a beautiful liver brown and white spaniel, brought into the vets where I was on work experience at the time. He was unwanted at six months old by his original owner due to a potential eye issue (that was thankfully easily sorted) and became mine.

We were together as much as possible; Finn would even come along to school sometimes and sit on the side of the pitch, patiently waiting while I was playing hockey.

Whenever I did have to leave him, he would always meet me at the door carrying a shoe, or some other gift to welcome me home. He was so keen to bring me these presents, he would start panicking if he couldnt find anything.

He was just perfect and while most of my familys other dogs were working dogs, kept outside in kennels, he was allowed into the house and slept in my bed with me. Id talk to him and I swear he would understand every single word I was saying, and was in tune with exactly how I was feeling. He was like my child and best friend rolled into one.

My amazing Finny was my favourite animal growing up, but he wasnt the only one in my life. In fact, I was surrounded by animals from the start.

I grew up in Barnard Castle, a small market town in County Durham, right in the middle of really wild, beautiful countryside. You couldnt grow up there and not feel at least some connection with nature.

My dads family were farmers, as was a close family friend, and I was always asking to be outside at their houses, exploring the land and watching the animals.

My brother was a gamekeeper and worked on some of the biggest shoots in the country. He had about ten spaniels around him at any one time, and from the age of eleven he had me out grouse beating all summer, every summer, on the fell. I loved feeling that I was somewhere very few people ever went, enjoying the remoteness and the silence bar the sounds of birds and grasshoppers with the dogs each side of me. I basically spent my school holidays falling in love with nature. Not the worst kind of upbringing!