The Battle Cry of the Siamese Kitten is the third non-fiction book by Canadian veterinarian and author, Philipp Schott. Another catchy title and cover picture make it clear that this is a book by a vet about animals and, of course, their owners. It consists of sixty essays in roughly alphabetical order with intriguing titles like: Does Your Cat Smoke, Parratosaurus, Pelican Surprise, Screaming Beagles and The Song of the Guinea Pig.

The topics are quite varied. Schott covers many aspects of veterinary practice including what running a clinic during the COVID pandemic entails (like parking lot medicine in -20C). He tells the reader what an odd child he was and describes how the first dog that was his actually lived on another continent. He pays homage to a late colleague who didn’t hesitate to muck in for the dirty jobs: there’s lots of gore and gross stuff in vet practice.

The text is enhanced with amusing illustrations by Brian Gable and Schott manages to include a great deal of information in easily-assimilated form, as well as lots of good advice. There’s plenty of humour, but also a good helping of interesting trivia.

His anecdotes, most (but not all) of which have happy endings, demonstrate: the importance of checking the client’s understanding of what will be done; that not all kittens are nervous at the vet’s (some, like the eponymous Siamese kitten, are ANGRY); how challenging it can be to bring the cat to the clinic; and that clients’ care for their pets can’t always be judged by attitude or appearance, admitting “I had been taught this lesson several times before, but apparently I’m not done learning it yet.”

He puzzles over the steep rise in puppy ownership with the pandemic and theorises that “it’s also because it is therapeutic to engage with a living being that is so blithely oblivious to the human news cycle and the traumas our species inflicts on itself.”

He compares the role of veterinarians and car mechanics: regular checks and maintenance benefit both pets and cars; he notes the rise in popularity of pet rabbit ownership, as gauged by pet-cams; he notes the increasingly complex nature of veterinary medicine requiring the proliferation of “ologists” with an associated rise in costs; he compares country vs city practice; and acknowledges the potential to slide into quackery.

Schott talks about: Eccentric Cat Ladies (not all are crazy and some perform a valuable service); territory, cats fighting and injuries sustained; cats who dream excessively; the reasons pets lick wounds; why some rats love cats; how often to bathe your dog (hardly ever); and he gives a formula for dog (and cat) years.

He describes: how he overcame a childhood dread of dead things; how young Philipp Schott learned to be a vet in practice with real people; how gratifying it is to give a client good news; how a day at the clinic can be like an emotional slot machine; and how thrilling it is to ultrasound a snow leopard cub.

Schott freely admits to errors: after all, no one is infallible. He describes how he mistook a hairball cough for asthma and “For those of you keeping count of how many medical errors I have confessed to in my stories over the years, I’m going to ask you to please not be alarmed. I’m a dab hand at self-criticism and even then, I don’t think my number of mistakes is above average. It’s just that stories of mishaps are much more entertaining than stories of successes.”

His imagined conversation with a dog is very amusing. He answers the question “Can you perform an ultrasound on a fish?” Ditto, a pelican. He admits to zero expertise with amphibians, and lacking both the knowledge and the courage to treat parrots (and why). Many veterinary mysteries require thinking laterally, especially when eg dealing with a drunken dog.

Even when he mounts his soapbox on something about which he feels strongly, such as vaccine skeptics, mismatched dogs and owners, dog training, or the importance for pets in the elderly, he’s never preachy; rather his explanations are redolent with expertise and common sense. The tone is conversational and this makes the book very readable. You don’t have to be a pet owner to enjoy this informative, entertaining, often moving and frequently hilarious book.
This unbiased review is from an uncorrected proof copy provided by NetGalley and ECW Press.