PLAYIN’ DOCTOR
Meanwhile, back at the Let Sleeping Dogs Lie ranch headquarters, Smoky and I had cleaned up from our day on the range and were heading to supper with Oman when Ima Loon zoomed up, sliding her truck to a stop in front of us and showering us with dust and dirt. So much for having cleaned up. Ima hurtled out of her truck, a crazed look on her face followed by hair flailing wildly behind, jabbering incoherently, punctuated only by the wild dance her arms were doing.
Oman, remembering Smoky’s notion of how to deal with Loucat earlier in the day, stepped forward quickly as he said “don’t worry Smoky, I’ll deal with Ima, she’s ok”. Oman, wrapped his immense hands around Ima, lifted her three feet off the ground and gently shook her until she calmed down. Ima looked remarkably like a rag doll hanging from Oman’s massive hands except that when he set her back on her feet she looked up at Oman and with a big smile on her face said “Oh, hi Oman, didn’t see you there. How ya doin?”
“How can you miss a 6’7” 324 pound cowboy standing right in front of you?” asked Smoky.
Ima replied “easy, sometimes I get so worked up…” followed by “oh no! Precious…” followed by a renewed torrent of jumbled words and arm waiving. The very short version of the story was: Ima boarding a horse named “Precious” for a guy; guy emphatic - feed only specially formulated and imported grass mix; feeding schedule to be followed to the minute; guy provides grass mix; guy pays extra for her trouble; guy provides emergency 24/7 phone number to a private vet; any issues, problems, concerns - even a glimmer of a possible issue that might become a problem in 10 years, call private vet instantly; Ima agrees; Ima follows feeding schedule sorta, kinda; Ima doesn’t notify private vet; rain water ruins imported grass mix; Ima feeds Precious wet (read that ‘moldy’) imported grass mix; doesn’t notify private vet; Precious eats moldy imported grass mix; Precious stops eating; Ima doesn’t notify private vet; Ima doesn’t notice Precious’s belly beginning to swelling up; Ima offers Precious field hay, oats, granola bars, pancakes (with real maple syrup) and Hershey’s chocolate bars (with almonds); Precious eats - for a while; Ima doesn’t notify private vet; Precious’s belly now really swollen, tries to drink water but can’t keep it down, in obvious pain, audible gurgling sounds, licking his sides; Ima doesn’t notify private vet; Ima mixes up Grandma Killdare’s magic remedy for everything human; gets a ‘good dose’ into Precious; doesn’t notify private vet; Precious now laying down, breathing heavy; Ima doesn’t notify private vet; Ima modifies Grandma Killdare’s recipe to improve potency, tries to get it down Precious; Precious regurgitates it; doesn’t notify private vet; modifies recipe yet again; no better luck; doesn’t notify private vet; administers triple doses of Bute, two different de-worming treatments and some Botvax for good measure; doesn’t notify private vet; Precious looking even worse; Ima doesn’t notify private vet, does comes over to the Sleeping Dog.
Smoky, in a rather sarcastic tone, commented “sounds like you need a dose of Grandma Killdare’s formula yourself.”
I shot Smoky a Your-About-To-Be-Grounded look as I said “why don’t you go check out the grass over in the west field, I hear it’s really green over there”.
“It is? I’ll leave you to deal with Precious, I’m outta here” said Smoky as he headed west.
Who says I can’t outsmart my horse? Turning to Ida I asked her if she had the private vet’s phone number with her.
“Why sure, I carry it with me everywhere.”
“Here’s my cell phone, call it right now” I replied. Ida, looking somewhat terrified, took the phone, dialed the number and turned on the speaker.
Sure enough, within two rings a voice answered “Stud Specialists, Dr. Doctori speaking, what’s wrong with Precious?”
After a brief description of the symptoms, punctuated by a few you-did-what!? and one or two sarcastic “is that all!?” statements kindly offered by Dr. Doctori, he calmly said that a team of doctors and surgeons would arrive by helicopter within exactly 21 minutes. The mobile surgical van would arrive within an hour. My keen legal mind began to sense that something odd here, prompting me to ask “What’s so special about Precious?” All of our eyes widened upon hearing Precious’s real name…
Ida said “you mean the stud that just sold for $4 million dollars?”
“No, the stud that just sold for $4.65 million dollars. Thank you for calling, perhaps you might actually try going to vet school before playing doctor next time, have a nice day, goodby” was the still calm reply.
“Wow, glad that mess is over. Not my problem now” Ida said.
“Ida” I said, “you caused the problem. You entered into a binding agreement to provide specific services which you did not do. Had you followed the instructions you wouldn’t be in this position. Not only have you breeched the contract that you entered into with the owner who happens to be the Mr. Zillion Air himself, you then decided to play doctor rather than call the doctor, and gave Precious unacceptable treatment and food, especially the chocolate.
“But, Smoky eats Mars bars”.
“No,” I replied, “he tries to swipe mine, but I don’t let him”. “To make matters worse, you gave Grandma Killdare’s home cure-all for people to a horse. Then you tried your own concoctions. When that didn’t work you gave overdoses of Bute, wormers and Botvax. That’s really playin doctor. If your going to play doctor, know what your doing because your going to be held to the same standard as any licensed doctor.”
“But that not fair, I’m not a doctor, I was just trying to help, like a good Samaritan.”
“Doesn’t matter, even if the Good Samaritan concept applies to animals, which is unclear, you still must act reasonably. Your choosing to play doctor, rather than calling the doctor, which was your obligation here. Arizona statute provides protection for someone giving aid in good faith, and isn’t grossly negligent in the process, though the courts have further limited that latitude to reasonable actions. However, based on Dr. Doctair’s comments and the medical team being airlifted out as we speak, I’d say your treatment plan might not be considered to be reasonable.”
“A 4 million dollar horse, what am I going to do?” wailed Ima with a horrified look on her face.
“Actually, 4.65 million dollars” said Smoky who had wondered back. “But, don’t worry, I ‘ve known Zillion Air since way back when. For two Mars bars I’ll take care of it for you…”
Daniel Rosenfield’s experience in equine and ranch matters is enhanced by his experience in business law and litigation. For more information on how to avoid playin doctor, please send you request to drosen@mrbusinesslaw.com. Phone: (480) 609-9700.
