A good veterinarian is like a good mechanic or hair stylist: Once you find someone you really have confidence in, you’ll follow them anywhere.
Dr. Leah Isaacson and her husband, Dr. Thomas Minturn, appear with their family dogs, Lou, left, Piper, on ground, and Cheese Sandwich. (photo courtesy of Dr. Leah Isaacson)
I ought to know: I’ve been following Dr. Leah Isaacson all over the East Bay, even all the way out to Walnut Creek. My cats, Pepe and Sally, didn’t enjoy the long schlep, to say the least, but I wanted someone I knew I could trust. The first time she met them she spotted something as soon as she walked in the door. She rushed over to Sally, peered into her mouth and discovered a resorbed tooth.
That’s when gum tissue grows over a tooth and every bite of food becomes sheer agony. Unfortunately, cats are great at hiding pain, so I probably wouldn’t have noticed anything for months, if ever. Dr. Isaacson fixed it, though, and I was so grateful.
“Sally is my favorite,” I told her.
At that, she immediately moved over to Pepe, cupped her hands over Pepe’s ears, and whispered, “Don’t listen!”
Then she had completely won my heart. I’m not the only one who has doggedly (sorry about that) followed her hither and yon.
“Brains and compassion are two of the most important characteristics of a good doctor, animal or human, and Leah has an abundance of both,” says retired dog trainer Elen Weiss.
Alas, that kind of care is rapidly becoming a relic of the past because so many veterinary hospitals have been taken over by corporations, and the pressure is on to rush the animals through their systems as quickly as possible.
Dr. Isaacson, or Leah, as she insists I call her, took a different tack. She and her husband, Dr. Thomas Minturn, another crackerjack veterinarian, have been saving up to achieve their lifelong dream: opening a veterinary hospital of their own where they only have to answer to themselves, and now they’ve finally done it.
On May 1, the Shattuck Animal Care Clinic opened its doors at 2573 Shattuck Ave. in Berkeley, just south of Dwight Way, where parking places are much easier to find.
The influx of once and former clients who had been waiting eagerly for that day to happen has been so great that they’ve already added another vet, Dr. Lydia Wood, who has special experience in animal dentistry, and an acupuncturist, Dr. Beth Schneider, with more additions expected as the client list grows, as it surely will. The most satisfying part is that they’re finally able to give each animal the time and attention it deserves.
“One of the hardest things is when you’re having an end-of-life conversation with a pet owner and that backs up to a new puppy exam, and you have to switch gears,” says Leah. “I can’t be bringing my baggage from one appointment to another.”
Thomas adds that “I think the big thing I enjoy with my day is how different every day is.”
“For both of us, we love being that support for people,” notes Leah. “Your pets are your kids, and we want to be there for you. We don’t even use exam tables; we both like to get down on the floor and be with the animals, rather than put them on this cold, uncomfortable table.”
Congratulations, Leah and Thomas. I can’t wait for you to meet Betty.
A convert’s zeal: Speaking of animals, I’ve been writing about my cats for so long that some people assume I’ve always liked them. On the contrary, I grew up as a cat hater. After all, they’re aloof and unfriendly, right? Wrong. That though is a sure sign of a person who’s never met a cat.
One day years ago, I began a romance with a woman who had a cat named KC (short for Kitty Cat). For the first six months we lived together I refused to let KC into our bedroom, but one day she had enough and decided to seduce me, which she did, in record time.
By the time my girlfriend and I broke up, KC and I had gotten so tight that she offered to give her to me, but I declined. Two weeks after I moved into my new digs, there was a knock on my door, and there were three first-graders holding a tiny kitten.
“Mister,” they said, “Did you lose this kitty?”
“No,” I said, “but I’ll take her.”
I named her Eliza Doolittle, and though I’ve had five more kitties since her and loved them all, she’ll always be the gold standard.
Moral: There’s no zealot like a converted sinner.
Martin Snapp can be reached at catman442@comcast.net.