The left kidney looked huge…
In fact it measured just over three times the length of the second lumbar vertebra and my mind was made up : this dog had a problem…..
Pete Mantis, the embodiment of the Greek enjoyment of life, a character that might just have jumped out of a Nikos Kazantzakis novel, a man build like a boulder, but undoubtedly gifted with one of the finest brains in diagnostic imaging, had made this the final question of one of his excellent presentations at the veterinary conference in Portoroz in Slovenia, which I was attending:
“Is this kidney enlarged or not ?….”
In line with the other 150 colleagues in the room, I had to press the right or wrong button and…..I had failed….again…..
Following a 90 minute Tour de Force through numerous normal and pathological radiographs and CT images, Pete’s closing statement was that the physiological boundary of a dog’s kidney lies between 2.5 and 3.5 times of the length of the vertebra. Good news for the dog, but for me this once again confirmed that there still was so much to learn….
Ok, thankfully not all of my previous answers had been equally wrong, but now mentally drained, I decided that it was high time for some physical exercise.
While it had been a cold and wet beginning of April north of the Alps, the small Slovenian Mediterranean coastline was basking in bright sunlight and the thermometer was nearly hitting 20C.
The destination for this run was a unique place which I had visited only once before, a few years ago: the Salina of Seča, located right at the border to neighbouring Croatia.
Turning left on the still fairly empty promenade in-front of the hotel, it didn’t take me long to reach the first point of interest, that demanded a brief stop and some further investigation: at probably the coolest place on the shore, a beach bar wholly dedicated to dog owners and their canine companions. What in most beach side locations suffers a poor existence – the dog beach – had apparently taken centre stage here.
If you don’t come along with a dog – tough luck, you are not part of the club!….
Pressing on, I passed the marina, where boats of all sizes where made ready for the forthcoming sailing season.
Taking then a shortcut across the small peninsula of Seča, I had to run uphill for a while and eventually found myself surrounded by olive trees which were interspersed with numerous sculptures.
This made a nice contrast to the flat and somewhat barren appearance of the salt pan, which was to follow.
Here time seemed to stand still.
Some old sailing boats were moored at a small ship yard. Small man-made canals with hyper saline water were crossing the totally flat land, providing a haven to sea birds and to the maritime wildlife, that had adapted to this environment. The completely flat surface of the pan made for some fine running, with the occasional stop at the historic factory and storage buildings that had endured the expose to the salt and to the relentless sun for many decade.
It clearly is an industry where nothing is rushed. Harvesting the salt from the sea is a process that is taking time. There is no need to innovate or to speed up the process. For hundred of years just using the sea and the force of the sun in the right way has provided the local community with a commodity that was sought after all over the continent both as a vital ingredient for food as well as a preservative, especially at the time before the event of refrigeration.
The timeless character of the buildings, the simple tools and the geometric outline of this unusual place, had not only a calming effect, it also provided a great contrast to the world of digital innovation, the relentless advancements of technology and the constant demand for change and speed.
Great places like these are often closer than you might think, you only need to open your eyes and put on your running shoes (or hiking boots…) to find and to appreciate them….
The Blue Vet Diary 