Texas Equine Veterinary Association

www.teva-online.org • Page 31 complicated by the nasty gloves he was wearing. Each time he would reach toward his face to quiet the swells, the goo that was on the gloves would increase the intensity of the smell. People were scattering like buckshot, but they all wanted to stay close enough to see what happened next. Zach started barking orders. "Puke in the sawdust, don't run that way, there's nothing to vomit on; go outside and take your gloves off!" None of the words seemed to penetrate the pre-vomit fog that had overtaken Mr. Teeth. He just kept running in circles and touching his face with the slimy gloves. It seemed like it was going to go on forever. It was on about the 30th small lap that the sound of those teeth chattering became the dominant noise. They were bumping into his lips, his gums, and each other. It sounded a bit like somebody rolling dice in a Yahtzee cup. It was obvious that everyone was ready to duck when those babies came flying out. It was just a question of which way they were going to go; as he would spin, the audience would bend and rise at the waist like football fans doing the wave. Finally, they flew from his lips. There was enough pressure built up by now to propel them at a rapid rate. Mr. Teeth had managed to slip behind the surgery room into an area that afforded a safe launch. No one actually saw it happen. The noise was something similar to a car backfiring, followed by a high-pitched ping. The teeth flew out of his mouth and bounced off a metal I-beam. Ghastly looks were immediately replaced by high eyebrows and gut-busting laughter. After finishing the job, Mr. Teeth calmly went over, picked up the new teeth and simply put them back in his mouth. What a day. We always seem to have an eye on teeth. Many of our patients would like to sink them into us. On this particular day, though, the kind of teeth we were watching out for was a bit unusual. Dr. Zach Smith was knee-deep in stink. The mare was had aborted but the baby was still inside of her several days when she arrived at the clinic. You can just imagine what this must have been, like, bare bones with decomposing flesh attached. This makes for a smell that you just can't imagine until you've experienced it. As is usually the case, several people were standing around watching and willing to lend a helping hand. It was a slow and tortuous job. The fly population was having a heyday. They were buzzing and landing on everything. The crowd started thinning as the really smelly parts were coming out. Only the dedicated and brave at heart remained. One gentleman in particular was determined not to let Zach go at it alone. He was gloved-up and bouncing from place to place like a puppy dog around the table, just waiting for his chance to jump in and help. The parts were getting bigger and bigger until finally the torso started its journey out. The smell was overwhelming. It was at about this time the gentleman (we'll call him Mr. Teeth), got a nose full of the wretched stink. This is one of those smells that is so bad that you can perceive it with organs other than just your nose. It seems to get into your eyes, the pores of your skin, the hair in your nostrils, and even has a taste. It was noticeable that Mr. Teeth was getting all of his senses saturated as the large part of the foal came sliding out. Turns out this fellow just got a set of false teeth. I guess the smell had saturated these new chompers. Whatever the case, it induced some of those gut-busting heaves. They started slow and silent and were developing into longer, louder contractions of the chest and stomach. All attention left the mare and foal and went to Mr. Teeth. "Run away! He's gonna blow!" yelled Zach as the crowd started backing away. Mr. Teeth was making all kinds of guttural noises now. His cheeks would puff out like Louie Armstrong, only to be followed by a deep puffing sound as his dry lips succumbed to the building pressure of each dry heave. He was running around in circles looking for a place to spew. The situation was further Wayward Teeth Lose Grip on Situation... BO BROCK, DVM, DABVP

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