Dr. Mitchell's Cairn Terrier, Lizzie (1995-2010), loved to read veterinary magazines, trade journals, and anything else that delivered the news - and she mined it all for the edification and amusement of her fans worldwide. 

For the last five years of her life, The Lizard offered pungent commentary about all the things that it just might not be always appropriate for Dr. Mitchell to weigh in on: greedy pet food executives who produced food that poisoned pets (4/'07); why your immune system is just like the Starship Enterprise (3/'09); inhumane veterinary school education  (fall  '09);  dumb pet products touted by dumber vets (6/'08); why raw meat diets are better than vegetarian diets for dogs and cats (12/'07, 11/'08): what probiotics do (9/'06, 11/'06); how to tell your clueless humans that you are in pain (2/'08); why cats have a poor sense of humor (11/'07); and even all about her own battle with kidney disease (beginning in summer '08).

By turns indignant, bemused, and erudite, Lizzie always told it like it was, and she pulled no punches.  

March 2010, from Dr. Mitchell:

Lizzie has passed on, and as more of her fans have learned of the end of her journey, there have been more questions about what will happen to her e-column.  Whether anyone will step forward to tell it the way Lizzie always told it - straight out, no holds barred.  Or whether, like many good things, it will simply end.  Right now, none of her remaining family have answers.  For me, the loss is too fresh and raw to contemplate much more than deciding how best to honor Lizzie's bright and beautiful memory.  I am thankful and humbled by how thoughtfully so many of you have chosen to honor your own memories of her.  Your sympathy is so very meaningful and it is deeply appreciated by me.  The cards and notes are still arriving most days, and they bring tears and gratitude every time.

On the other hand, her remaining carnivore brethren have been more proactive in addressing this issue and have some firm opinions.  They have carefully mused over the options that some of you have kindly suggested.  There is universal agreement over a few things and disagreement over just about everything else.  All agree that to continue a "ghost" column would be too creepy for her family (even though some of you asked for this) and that simply recycling old columns, like famous cartoonists do, (another common suggestion) would get pretty old, awfully fast.

Emmett the cat, clearly the brightest of the bunch, fails to see the need to continue to inform any of YOU about all the things that Lizzie liked to discuss.  Look up your own stuff, he says!  Hebert, who is always very, very nervous about anything and everything, is sure that he could never live up to your standards.  He should stick to his interpretive dance classes, he thinks. (Jack sneers and says that Hebert feels inadequate about everything, including those stinkin' dance classes!)  So what about Jack?  He is still awfully focused on figuring out how to manage chasing wildlife with only one hind leg.  He already manages to somehow get up on the kitchen table to steal cat food - we've never caught him to see exactly he manages this - but we suspect that he may eventually be ready to think about literary pursuits.  Or, maybe, our next rescue Cairn will arrive with the smell of ink on her tiny paws and a choice comment about something that recently irritated her, brewing in her head.  You never know.

Until we decide what will happen, her columns - and my last message about her passing - will remain here.

February 2010

Dear friends,

The January column below was Lizzie's last message to all of her fans.  She let her spirit go to fly free, late in the evening of January 16th.  Lizzie began to show me that her energy was fading during her last week.  While ball-playing remained at the top of her list of daily events each morning (even on January 16th, her last day), she started to lose interest in her food and slept more during each day.  She began following me around the house, not wanting to let me out of her sight, and asking to be cuddled at night.  And while she could formerly always be counted upon to tell Hebert and Jack what to do and when to do it, she slowly started letting them get away with more and more "boy dog" behavior. 

January 16th began with a long round of ball retrieval (she brought her ball early and insisted upon playing, bouncing it on the floor repeatedly to get my attention).  She was attentive to dinner preparations for a friend, but didn't want to eat when we did, that evening.  Later that night, she experienced two very brief small seizures but remained well, even eating a bit afterwards.  But a longer seizure shortly before midnight prompted me to drive her to the hospital.  About halfway through the 20-minute drive, she died in my arms.  She and I sat in front of the hospital for a very long time before I slowly drove back home with her next to me, early Sunday morning.

Most of my pets have been adult or senior rescues.  Lizzie was the only pet I've ever had from the time she was a very young puppy, and we enjoyed a long and lovely life together.  She rode to work with me every day for many years, and always enjoyed meeting clients and new friends.  The extra last year and a half we shared, after she developed complete kidney failure secondary to contracting leptospirosis, was an unexpected blessing.  Once traditional medical care had done what it could do and could do no more in July of 2008, we continued on with acupuncture and traditional Chinese herbal medicine.  Veterinary friends who knew Lizzie would hesitantly ask how she was doing when they visited, and promptly fall on the floor when they compared her awful laboratory values to the happy, active senior dog in front of them.

Many times when I'm lecturing to veterinary audiences, I'm asked what are the benefits of "alternative" care.  I've always given a variation on this reply: "It gives them a remarkably good quality of life, right to the end.  When a pet receiving alternative care finally begins to decline, they do so abruptly, leaving you no questions about what is happening".  In the future, I'll always think of my Lizzie when I'm asked this question. 

It's a very quiet household without her...

Dr. M.

Dec '09 / Jan '10

Did you make your New Year's resolutions yet?  Not to worry, Lizzie made them for you! 

November 2009

Lizzie's ALL WET!

Fall 2009

Lizzie's hiding her head in her paws because she hasn't written for so long, but she's baaaaack!

August 2009

It's a family affair!

Lizzie is back from her summer hiatus with some scary and gross (but VERY IMPORTANT!) information for her furry friends!

Jan/Feb 2009

Lizzie says that "diet" is not just another four-letter word and she lets you know what she really thinks about vaccine-pushing vets!

If you invited Lizzie to dinner, what would you feed her?

Lizzie's list of snacks for the pet that won't eat - and why botox is "toad"ally wrong!

Q&A with Lizzie about her condition and her future plans

Poor Lizzie is very ill and needs your positive thoughts (but she cares so much about all of you that she's using her painful experience to teach your owners about kidney health).

January 2008

Lizzie offers some New Year's Resolutions for your owner and you!

February 2007

Grain mites, parasites, and xylitol, OH MY!!!!

What do we (as in your pets!) really want for the holidays??  Lizzie tells you!

August 2006

June 2006

May 2006

April 2006

March 2006