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Chiropractic for Animals

© Dr. David L. Phillips

My first exposure to chiropractic and animals was as a freshman at the Chiropractic College that I attended in Toronto. I was rummaging through our college library, researching something or other, in the late 1960's, when I came across an old book of chiropractic manual procedures and techniques for adjusting various levels of the spine. This book was well illustrated, black and white, of course. As a new student, I hadn't yet learned much, so this book intrigued me. However, as I flipped through it and came to the last chapter, the glossy old photos suddenly had replaced the human patients with dogs. I admit that I was shocked and somewhat put off, a little disgusted even. I mean, dogs on tables and equipment properly meant only for people! I had dogs as a kid growing up and the experience was mixed. Dogs were smelly, drooly and shed their fur everywhere. Certainly, I felt as a freshman, these beasts had no place in a profession meant for human health.

I maintained this unfortunate opinion all through college and into my first few years of practice. Although truthfully, I never thought about the subject much. However, one evening while visiting the home of a good patient and her family whose company I had come to enjoy, she asked me about her dog. She reasoned that if I could help her husband and her children with their spines, then why could I not help the spine of her dog? This made perfect sense to her and under the expectant gazes of all those present, I guess it suddenly made sense to me as well. Or at least I was going to have to put up a good show.

The dog was a German Shepherd, as I recall, and he/she/it, I forget which, had a crooked way of standing and walking, as if it's spine was bent sideways. Apparently several weeks before, the animal had been chasing one the son's ATV and they had collided somehow; the dog getting the worst of it. It came up lame a day or two later at which time my friend carted it off to her Vet. The veterinarian diagnosed it as a case of deep bruising and trauma, but the animal didn't seem to be getting any better, even after several return trips to his office. Would I look at it, she asked?

What could I say? That I found touching suffering animals to be disgusting? That I didn't want to soil my hands and get dog hair all over? That I only deemed my skills to be for humans (some of whom smell worse than animals)? No, these reasons seemed selfish and unreasonable. So I took a breath and agreed to examine her family's pet.

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