Rabies and its test: both fatal

"Rabies": a loaded, inflammatory word and generally for good reason. It's defined as "an acute infectious viral disease of warm-blooded mammals that attacks the central nervous system. It is believed to move from a saliva-infected bite wound through sensory nerves to the brain."

That's bad enough, but it gets worse. There's no treatment or post-exposure vaccination available for (non-human) animals; therefore, rabies is fatal to them.

Humans can survive rabies if treated before the onset of symptoms with post-exposure vaccinations and immunoglobulins.

"Rabies" becomes a big scare word when a human may have contracted it -- which can happen through a bite by a rabid animal. People have usually heard terrible tales about the series of shots they must go through if exposed to rabies.

It's worse of course for rabid animals, who will die. It's equally bad for animals suspected of having rabies who are tested for the disease: they too will die -- a fact that most people don't seem to know.

Rabies can be detected only in an animal's brain. Therefore, to test that animal for rabies, s/he must be killed. Once euthanized, the animal is decapitated, with the head going to a lab for the testing that will prove or disprove rabies was present.

The decapitation step is not necessary only for animals under 2 pounds in weight -- a bat, for instance, or a squirrel.

People who may talk casually about getting this or that animal tested for rabies should know what that entails: it means the animal must die, whether or not s/he then tests positive for rabies.
#

Here's what WE did

(picking up on Oct. 3 post)

It was around 9 pm last Wednesday night and we had “Sally” the sick cat in the car with us. The question then was, where could we take her for medical help. SAVE was not far away so we drove there, not knowing but hoping someone would be on night duty.

Throughout this ride, I held Sally in my arms/on my lap. She seemed to like that and stayed quietly in place.

No one home at SAVE (note to self: for emergencies like this, find out whether any place is open at night).

My husband suggested the Princeton Animal Hospital, on Alexander, and once there, we were in luck: they were open. Soon a vet was checking Sally out (confirming my vibe that she was a girl and pointing out she’d been declawed in front.) With a big drink of water behind her, the cat grew restless on the examining table while we and the vet discussed options.

We wanted to assure that Sally had a safe place for the night and was looked after. It had been explained to us that since she was found in Princeton, that town’s animal control officer (ACO) should be involved asap.

The vet said her poor condition (4 pounds and a few ounces despite estimated age of 3-4, and her growing agitation as the exam proceeded) could be a sign of rabies. That word, rabies, came to haunt this whole story.

We left Sally there, with various tests to be run. Soon after we got home, the vet phoned and talked more about rabies, the test for it and the bites on my wrist. Alarming. My response was for her/them to involve the Princeton AOC in a mutual decision if necessary. (As I’d sensed the cat was a girl, I also sensed she did not have rabies.)

The next morning my wrist, swollen and inflammed, prompted an early visit to the ER and I was told I had to stay in hospital overnight on antibiotics.

Meanwhile, Sally, who had been picked up by Princeton’s ACO, was “put down” (a horrible phrase for a horrible deed) so a rabies test could be done. Jumping ahead to this Monday, I learned she had tested negative.

As far as who made the decision, and why, that is still unknown at this point. Along the way, one of the hospital doctors had more than once been in contact with the AOC, and who said what to whom is still in dispute. In any case, Sally is gone. So much for my good intentions.
#
(To be continued)