When operating upon living flesh, always have your knives rather too large than in any measure too small. The work is performed quicker; besides, the hands are kept at some distance from the wound, and the eyes thereby are enabled to direct their movements. The probability of mistakes is thus lessened, and no man, with a knife in his hand and bleeding flesh under his eyes, has a right to expose himself to the possibility of an error which, of course, is not to be erased or atoned for.
Should a horse, when under the knife, struggle, do not attempt to contend with the animal. Immediately leave hold of your instruments, and withdraw your person out of danger. Allow your knife, etc. to remain; it will seldom be displaced, or, if cast out of the wound, can be easily reintroduced; whereas, did you endeavor to snatch away or to retain your hold, the most lamentable consequences might be the result.
Another caution, and this part of the writer's office is concluded. When you operate upon a leg, have that limb uppermost, unless your incision is made upon the inner side. Have the foot placed upon a pillow or sack stuffed with straw, and a strong webbing put around the hoof. The webbing give to a man who is to pull at it. The dragging sensation renders the horse inclined to retract the member; therefore place yourself in front of the limb, or on the same side as the man who holds the webbing. The fore leg, when advanced, cannot be readily employed as a weapon of offense, and the hind limb is always, when used in defense, projected backward.
OPERATIONS—TRACHEOTOMY.
This operation is, perhaps, the most humane recourse of veterinary surgery. Neurotomy may save the horse from greater and longer suffering; but tracheotomy is performed, unlike the former operation, upon an animal in an unconscious state. Difficult respiration, either from tumor pressing upon the larynx, infiltration upon the lining membrane of the larynx, or choking from various causes, produces imperfect oxygenation of the blood. The vital current being impure, of course the brain which it nurtures is not in a condition of health or activity. The consciousness is impaired or altogether destroyed; and immediate relief is experienced after the performance of the operation. The recovery is as rapid as the previous symptoms were alarming. The altered aspect of the animal is as though the body were resuscitated. In certain cases, where every breath is drawn in pain, the ease afforded by tracheotomy is most marked. It makes little difference to Nature, by what means the air is inhaled, so that a sufficiency of diluted oxygen come in contact with the absorbing membrane of the lungs. This, when the larynx is closed or diseased, tracheotomy permits to be accomplished. It is equally beneficial, safe, and humane. However ugly its description may read, it is in practice to be strongly recommended.
The general fault with veterinary surgeons is the delay which commonly pushes off the operation to the last moment. In this delay the proprietor is, perhaps, equally or even more at fault. Hope leads the owner on to the very last, and even then it is with reluctant horror that consent is given "to cut the horse's throat." Such is the term by which certain practitioners characterize tracheotomy; and though it is uttered merely as a joke, yet it creates an impression which acts against a harmless operation.
In agricultural districts, the veterinarian is frequently knocked up at night by a messenger, who announces "Farmer Hodges's horse be a dying." The farmer may live several miles off in the country; and the reluctant sleeper hurries on his clothes to obey the implied summons.
In due time the pair reach farmer Hodge's homestead. It needs no finger to point out the stable. The sound of laborious breathing effectually notifies it. However, the practitioner, upon entrance into the place, is horrified to find himself there with no better company than a boy and a rapidly-sinking animal. The circumstances demand other assistance. The horse doctor cannot help giving voice to his requirements. The lad hearing this, says hastily he will fetch somebody very soon—hangs up the lantern and vanishes into the darkness.
Minutes pass and no footfall greets the ear. The divisions of the hour are struck by the village church, and still no sound of returning steps. The animal becomes worse and worse. In its disabled state it fears to lie down, as that position impedes the breathing. In its efforts to stand, it reels about—now falling to one side and then to the other. Yet the departed messenger does not return. The veterinarian finds the limits of delay are passed: ten minutes more and the quadruped will be down. He takes out his lancet. One foot from the breast-bone, and as near the center of the neck as the rocking motion of the horse or the flickering light of the lantern will allow him to aim, he plunges the blade deeply into the flesh, if possible at one cut dividing the cartilages of the trachea. He has little control over the incision. Frequently a gash results from the tottering of the animal. Mostly he divides more than he would have done had daylight and assistance been afforded him.