Homeopathy for pets?

Most vets are genuinely caring, compassionate and ethical people, who love the animals that they work with, but these days, veterinary practices are increasingly part of larger companies or chains of veterinary surgeries, and the snag with large companies or chains is that their directors have a duty to their shareholders, to maximise profits. Now, I’m assuming that these chain veterinary practices don’t have a target ‘spend per client visit’, but I’ve certainly had a couple of experiences in the past couple of years that would give a cynic pause for thought.

Our cats used to be vaccinated every year, but in recent years we haven’t given annual boosters, because our view is that natural immunity is the best defence, and we’ve wondered why, if vaccinations work, the animals would need to be re-vaccinated every year. The interesting thing about this is that our minimally-vaccinated cats are almost never ill, whereas my first cat, who I religiously vaccinated every year for her entire life, was constantly ill with minor complaints that her immune system didn’t seem able to overcome without help.

My ginger cat, Ollie, then vaccinated every year, became seriously ill in the late 1990s. He had a raft of tests at the conventional vets’, plus steroids and antibiotics, but lost weight and condition rapidly, and I was shocked to hear that he was incurable. I was advised to have him put down, as there was nothing more that could be done for him.

He was skin and bone, and clearly a very ill creature, but in desperation, I took him to see Tim Couzens, the well-known homeopathic vet - although it’s legal in the UK to give your own cat homeopathic treatment, just as I try not to treat friends and family but refer them to a colleague, I prefer my cats to see a homeopathic vet. After a lengthy consultation all about the illness, Ollie’s history and his character, Tim prescribed Ollie’s constitutional homeopathic remedy, Phosphorus. Within a few days, Ollie was well on the mend. He then had a couple of follow-up consultations, after which he was prescribed Feline nosodes and then a dose of Tuberculinum, and made a brilliant recovery. Since then, every year or so, if I notice him looking a bit peaky, I repeat one or more of his remedies, which picks him right back up again.

About three years ago, my husband visited the (chain) conventional vets’ practice that our cats were then registered with, to buy some household flea spray. As our cats hadn’t been seen in the surgery for many years, he was surprised to learn that the practice wouldn’t sell him any flea spray without first seeing the cats to check their health. So we duly returned with both ostensibly healthy cats, for their free checkup, so that we could buy the flea spray.

On inspection, one cat was indeed passed as healthy, but we were strongly encouraged to book her in for vaccination, and told to switch her to the brand of ‘scientific’ cat food that the practice sells. When we questioned how a processed, high-cereals dried food could ever be superior to a raw food diet (containing the sort of protein-rich ingredients that a wild cat would eat), the vet told us that it wasn’t safe to give a natural diet, because the exact levels of nutrients can’t be specified if a cat is eating the sort of food a wild cat would eat. Now, of course, cats would eat small mammals and birds in the wild (including skin, gristle, bones and stomach contents), so a natural diet needs to mimic this, but how bonkers is it to say that a processed diet is superior? If that were the case, wouldn’t wild cats have died out long before domestication?

We were told that the other cat, an elderly ginger male, needed over £250-worth of dental surgery that would necessitate a general anaesthetic: not something I was keen on, given his advanced age, and the fact that the Phosphorus constitution is the most likely to react badly to general anaesthesia. As a responsible cat-owner, I was prepared to find the money, but I was very worried that he’d die under anaesthetic.

This time, Ollie saw Peter Gregory, at the same homeopathic veterinary practice. Peter explained that Ollie’s teeth and gums were basically sound, but were being badly affected by tartar, a hard, chalky deposit that forms on the teeth enabling bacteria to multiply and infect the gums and teeth. He agreed that an anaesthetic was to be avoided if at all possible, and while lulling Ollie into a relaxed state with lots of stroking and fuss, calmly (and a bit disgustingly!) flicked the tartar from Ollie’s teeth using his thumbnail, reassuring me that Ollie’s inflammation of the gums would settle down without treatment. I was delighted to see that Peter was right, and it did.

More recently, we decided to have Ollie (now a fairly elderly 15 years old) microchipped (needed so that we could install a Pet Porte cat flap to keep a bullying local tom out), and the local veterinary practice (yes, part of a chain) again recommended general anaesthetic and dental extractions, this time quoting nearly £400. We declined this, and took Ollie back to see Peter, who’s again confirmed that Ollie’s teeth are still sound, but that tartar has built up again. This time, Peter has prescribed homeopathic Fragaria vesca (Wood Strawberry), which has a reputation for helping with tartar removal and for preventing future build-up.

Ollie’s happy (he seems to enjoy seeing Peter, especially as he’s allowed to roam around, exploring the consulting room, and didn’t get into trouble for helping himself to a little of the milk Peter had in a jug for his own coffee), and I’m happy that my lovely old cat hasn’t had to risk surgery.

For more information about homeopathy and natural approaches to healthcare for humans, visit www.phoenixhomeopathy.com www.phoenixhomeopathy.com, and if you want homeopathic help for your animal companion, visit www.bahvs.com www.bahvs.com for details of homeopathic vets.