Free Hounded by David Rosenfelt Page A

Laurie, and we eat at an outdoor table. It’s the happiest I’ve seen Ricky, and that is definitely good to see.
    I spill half a cup of soda on my shirt, which sends Ricky and Laurie into absolute spasms of laughter, pointing and generally mocking me. Ricky is laughing so hard that his orange juice starts coming up through his nose, causing even more laughter. It’s nice that my misfortune can bring such joy into people’s lives.
    All in all, the day gives me a glimpse into what life is like for normal human beings, which will help me if I ever attempt to become one.
    Ricky goes to bed soon after we get home. Laurie gives him a choice of who should tuck him in, Laurie or me, and he chooses her without hesitation. It’s hard to blame him; I would make the same choice.
    Tara and Sebastian are completely wiped out from the excitement and exertion of the day. I’m not sure why lying on the grass is any more tiring than lying at home on a dog bed, but it apparently is.
    Laurie and I have a glass of wine, and listen to some music, and then we go to bed. I am happy to report that those USA Today people really have their act together.

 
     
    Veterinary medicine is a huge industry.
    This year, in the United States alone, people will spend more than twelve billion dollars to provide medical care for their pets. And that number rises every year, both here and abroad. People often brag about how much they spend on their pet’s ailments as a badge of honor, as if it is proof of their love for their dog or cat.
    A substantial portion of that is spent on drugs. In fact, almost eighty percent of all dogs receive medication each year. It is certainly no surprise that the drug companies have taken full advantage of this opportunity, and have jumped in with both feet. Research into animal drugs reaches an all-time high every year.
    But obviously, all the terrific care and medications in the world ultimately are not enough, and our pets’ lives eventually come to an end. The vast majority of pet owners wind up having them euthanized, after they’ve determined that the animal no longer has an acceptable quality of life.
    Euthanasia obviously also requires the administering of a drug. Most commonly, the animal is given a sedative injection, and then a lethal drug is injected into a vein. It can be stressful for both animal and grieving owner.
    Daniel Mathis set out to find a better way. Mathis is a highly regarded research chemist for Blaine Pharmaceuticals, a small to midsize company that found a niche in veterinary medicine, and the firm has fared quite well.
    The founder and owner, Stephen Blaine, cashed out, selling his business to a private buyer. A new chief executive, Mitchell Blackman, was installed, but except for some minor cost-cutting, life went on as before. Certainly Daniel Mathis did not notice any change; he was valued by Blaine, and by the new owners.
    Mathis had seen the euthanasia area as one of special promise. He submitted a proposal to Blackman in which he would set out to develop an easier, stress-free way for a stricken pet to be euthanized. It would not require any injections at all, but would be a pill that could be given conventionally, even in a treat.
    Best of all, Mathis was confident this could be accomplished using natural compounds, already found in the body. He believed he could find a combination that would cause the animal’s heart to simply stop beating, with no pain or suffering. And because the compounds would be natural, they would be inexpensive to produce, thus yielding substantial profits.
    And he did it. In a clinical trial, the compound was developed, produced in limited quantities in pill form, and given to a sample of animals who were at the end of their lives and ready for medical euthanasia. And it worked, better than Mathis even expected. The end for the aging and afflicted animals was painless and stress free; they simply silently and permanently went to sleep, essentially as the result