An Indian Summer

submitted by Mackenzie Wilder, University of Missouri 

I am bumping along, in a minuscule green rickshaw down the dusty roads of Faridabad, India. Our driver manages, without signaling, to cross the crowded road containing unclothed children, wandering cows, and honking motorcycles.  Without taking my eyes from the road I can still view extreme poverty. Flies buzz around a diseased dog’s head, cows lie in the street ruminating on old trash, and monkeys jump violently between roofs to steal food.  Dogs travel in packs along the streets, fighting to survive alongside the locals. Rabies is an ever present fear.  By living one month in India, it became apparent to me that veterinarians are a necessity not only to the health and welfare of the animals, but also to the health of the community.

I lived, breathed, and dreamed India during the summer of 2010 when I volunteered through International Volunteer Headquarters as a medical student. Not surprisingly, everyone assumed that I was a pre-med major. After introductions, the owner and founder of Zenith (human) hospital was shocked when I said that my passion was working with animals in the medical field. “Can you seriously hold animals to the same medical standards as people? Why would you want to do that with your life?” Mr. Sharma exclaimed. At that exact moment I thought of at least ten reasons for my preference and I knew he would never understand a single one.  I realized that although the title veterinarian meant absolute nothing to him it meant everything to me; my past, present, future, everything for which I had worked and studied.  I came to the conclusion that there was no need to forcefully defend myself and prove to Mr. Sharma that veterinarians were comparable to physicians.  With my passion shining through, I simply told him that animals were an important aspect of my life. These creatures have taught me immeasurable lessons, from loyalty, patience, friendship, and love to pain and suffering. They have made me into the person I am today and I will do anything for them in return, whether that be through health procedures or companionship. He smiled.

In India, I was amazed to see the difference in animal culture. The vast majority of dogs lived on the street. They had terrible skin problems, and were inflicted with wounds and tumors no veterinarian would ever treat.  In fact, no animal would ever receive treatment because veterinarians basically do not exist in Faridabad, India. One animal in particular still resonates a strong memory.  My significant other and I were traveling to Agra, the city of the Taj Mahal, and we had decided to stop at a sidewalk food merchant due to the tantalizing smells wafting from across the street. As we are crossing the chaotic street, the food merchant is literally kicking a dog out of his corner of the sidewalk. Not only did the loud Hindi catch my attention, but the appearance of the dog made me double take. This dog (comparable in stature to a Labrador) was at least a body conditioning score of 3/9 and his lobulated, ulcerated testicles were dragging the dusty ground leaving a trail of blood behind him. I wish I could have helped him and many others in his condition; it was that exact moment that led me to become passionate about surgery and preventative care within small animal companion animals.

Through this hands- on experience I have learned many things, but most of all I have learned how to adapt into a different culture and mindset.  Overall, it took me two full weeks to understand how people interacted, ate, traveled, and lived life from day to day. Although exhausting at times, my stay in India also helped me realize the impact that a veterinarian can have on society.