Adventures with Dr. Barry - Part 1
One morning during the early fall 2017 when I was still a volunteer milker at Kiss the Cow Farm, Dr. Barry, the local large animal vet, paid a visit to attend to one of the cows that had an issue with her front foot, rendering her lame. I had never met Dr. Barry before and was taken aback by his physical presence when he stepped into the barn. Assuming that all large animal vets would be of large, brawny stature, I was surprised that he was a rather diminutive older man, seemingly bordering on rickety. His shoulders had a fixed slump, and his face was weatherworn from decades of working outside in the hot sun of summer and frigid winds of winter. He was wearing baggy, one-piece pale green coveralls and clunky oversized muck boots, but I could still tell that what was underneath was pure sinew. Despite what he lacked in physical presence, however, there was no doubt that his years of experience gave him nothing to dread when he set upon his task of fixing the foot of a 900 lb. milk cow. Dr. Barry was also extremely sensible by commanding that any capable set of hands would be helpful hands. Farm owner Randy, Meg (who was also working at KTC at the time), and I all availed ourselves to be useful.
I can’t exactly recall the outcome of this dilemma for the cow, but I do remember feeling completely enchanted by this charming, spirited, authentic Tom Thumb of a man. A few weeks later I called Dr. Barry to inquire if he wouldn’t mind my tagging along with him for a call or two. Perhaps this could be a good opportunity to get some more hands-on experience specific to animal first aid. He surprised me again by being very keen to this idea and would get back to me ASAP.
A few weeks later, for our first outing together, we made a plan to meet in the village of South Royalton. I would leave my car parked in town and travel with him to a horse farm in neighboring Tunbridge where he made frequent visits to conduct horse massage and laser treatments on very fancy Icelandic show horses. I thought this should be interesting!
I am a notoriously late person and quickly came to realize that Dr. Barry suffers from this malady as well. After 20 minutes perusing the aisles of our local South Royalton Market while popping my head out intermittently to check if he had arrived, Dr. Barry finally pulled up. His car, a late model Mazda compact SUV had mud encased wheel wells from farm visits along our back roads, and the gray color was faded with pocks of rust. The interior had been “redecorated” with tapestries tacked along the door panels, and I wasn’t sure if this was because they were hiding some sort of damage or if Dr. Barry was a vestige of the 1970’s groovy hippy era. I ultimately determined that it was a bit of both. The seating area was limited to the two very worn sunken bucket front seats. The entire back area had been built out as a portable homemade med unit – lots of old fishing tackle boxes filled with random needles and syringes and bottles of liquid medications, salves and bandages, stacks of shiny steel tools, and boxes of random pieces of veterinary equipment. After a brief pause to contemplate what I could possibly be getting myself into, I climbed in, and we were off.
Having lived on Balla Machree for at least some portion of every year, it always amazes me as to how little familiarity I have of the greater South Royalton surrounds. Our route to the horse farm passed the Tunbridge Fairgrounds and then to the tippy top of Strafford Road, near where the towns of Tunbridge and Strafford meet.
Definitely not sure what my role would be, I attempted to suss out as much information as I could by chatting with the stable hand who seemed to be managing all the horses scheduled for treatment. From what I could glean, it seemed that some Icelandic horses (not ponies even though they are small), despite being extremely rugged (once the coveted steed of the Vikings) get stiff and achy from time to time and require acupuncture, laser treatments and massage to sort them out. Our first patient, clipped to crossties for the exam, was having difficulty rounding his corners in the ring with his typical fluid bend. Dr. Barry pulled his packet of acupuncture needles from his vet box and methodically placed them so that they would engage with the appropriate nerve running down the horses back. It looked a bit like placing candles randomly on a birthday cake, but I clearly had a lot to learn. With needles implanted, Dr. Barry then ran his hand-held laser apparatus along the area where this fellow was having complications.
Then things got really weird! Summoning me to duty, Dr. Barry instructed me to hold out my arm with resistance when he pressed on it. With eyes closed, Dr. Barry placed one hand in a specific spot along the horse’s back and asked the horse if this is where he was having pain. With his other hand, Dr. Barry pressed quickly on my tensed outstretched arm, somehow providing him with confirmation that this was, in fact, a spot where the horse was experiencing pain. This went on a few more times, Dr. Barry running his hand to another spot, asking a similar question to the horse, then pressing my outstretched arm for confirmation. When the treatment was over, the acupuncture needles came out (they were handed to me, the assistant, to dispose of), the horse was returned to his stall, and another was clipped to the crossties for the same rigmarole. When we finished with the last horse, Dr. Barry chatted for a few minutes with the farm owner, a woman with a heavy European accent who expressed much gratitude that there was a veterinarian in the area who provided this type of service for her very valuable animals.
I’m not sure that I picked up any applicable animal husbandry tips that day, nonetheless, I couldn’t wait to find out what adventure #2 would bring!
