Getting The Point

Does your pet have stagnant Qi? Then acupuncture is the answer

By TY PHILLIPS
tphillips@modbee.com

last updated: September 30, 2007 07:08:54 AM

Henry and Randy are big old cats that are trapped, like all of us, in a futile battle against time. Henry has a sore mouth and a slowly failing immune system. Randy has a nasty case of arthritis.

For Pam Miller of Manteca, who owns the two cats, a trip to the vet used to be a nightmarish experience, marked by frenzied escape attempts and nervous urinations. It was common for Miller to drive to the vet's office as the two cats knelt in their carrying cages and -- seemingly knowing where they were headed -- howled in despair.

But all that squeamish behavior disappeared after a vet began poking Henry and Randy with needles.

Confused? Intrigued? So was I. That's why when I heard animal acupuncture had reached the Northern San Joaquin Valley, I decided I had to see for myself. I walked into Northgate Veterinary Hospital in Manteca and was direct-

ed into a room where Miller's two cats were being treated by veterinar-

ian Marilyn Koski, who specializes in exotic animal medicine.

And there was Henry, purring comfortably on a cushion, seemingly oblivious of the 12 needles jutting from his body. He purred quietly, and his eyes were gently closed like the side effect of a big smile.

Who can say for certain what cats are thinking -- except perhaps that they'd eat us if they were big enough to pull it off -- but it sure looked like Henry was enjoying himself. Miller stood nearby and petted him as tiny needles stimulated the cat's meridians, or life energy pathways, to unblock stagnant Qi, or life force energy. At least that's how it was explained to me.

Miller, 52, says she was skeptical about acupuncture until she suffered a painful shoulder injury several years ago. She saw specialists who offered all sorts of treatments, but it wasn't until a Chinese doctor treated her with acupuncture that her pain receded. Later, she began to figure what worked for her might also be good for her cats, who were having more trouble getting around.

"I see an acupuncturist in Modesto and I tried to talk him into bringing my cats in there," Miller says, "He was like, 'No, no, no, it doesn't work like that.' "

Eventually, Miller discovered Koski was treating animals holistically in Manteca. Shortly after the treatments began, Miller said, her two cats became more active at home. And they no longer put up a struggle when it's time for their bimonthly trip to the vet.

"To find this available close to home is just wonderful," Miller said. "When I would bring them home from the vet before, they'd be anxious and want out immediately. Now it's like, 'We're cool, what's in the food dish?' They're very relaxed about it all now. It's not at all what it was like before."

Granted, acupuncture isn't an option likely to fit into the budget (or mind-set) of the typical pet owner. For starters, it costs $120 for the initial treatment and detailed examination, and $70 per acupuncture treatment after that. Koski stressed that acupuncture is just one part of a complete Eastern-style approach that seeks to address the animal as a whole instead of treating a particular symptom.

"It's difficult to explain Eastern medicine in Western terms," Koski said, "but it's taking a holistic approach, looking at the entire way we live our lives. Acupuncture is just one part of the equation. It's also nutrition, lifestyle, herbs, exercise. It's everything really.

"Western focuses more on equipment and medicines, and I lean on those all the time. They're valuable, but there's also the aspect of observation and using your skills as a human to observe and understand people. You don't have to turn away from Western medicine to embrace Eastern."

That is something Koski learned shortly after graduation from the UC Davis School of Veterinary Medicine in 1992. Working at a wild animal park in Hong Kong, Koski and another vet treated some lemurs, but became concerned when the animals were slow to wake from anesthesia.

"For me, my first thought was to use drugs," Koski said. "But (the other vet) went over and, by inserting two needles, got his animal to improve its respira-

tory status much faster than mine. I said, 'OK, what did you do?' That got my interest. I started to visit other acupuncturists in Hong Kong and, when I got back to the U.S., I thought I should incorporate some of this into what I'm doing."

Koski received her formal training in Traditional Chinese Veterinary Medicine at the Chi Institute in Gainesville, Fla. Since 1999, she has been a faculty clinician at the UC Davis School of Veterinary Medicine. Her career has taken her to various parts of the world that include Hong Kong, Thailand, Australia and Antarctica, where she helped research seal populations atop ice floes.

Still, despite her extensive background, Koski knows it's inevitable to draw raised eyebrows when people find out she sometimes treats animals by sticking needles in them.

"This is something that's been around for thousands of years and sometimes we treat it like it's brand new, which I think is pretty funny. A lot of times when I meet people and acupuncture comes up, they're immediately skeptical. I tell them skepticism is good, but that should be paired with critical thinking. If we looked at everything that is different and declared it garbage, what would we gain? I think the moral of it all is to be open-minded."

For more information about alternative animal therapies, visit the Chi Institute website at www.tcvm.com.

Bee staff writer Ty Phillips can be reached at tphillips@modbee.com or 874-5716.