I've previously written about how important good dental is for our pets.  Oral disease, which begins with a build up of plaque and tartar, and which can lead to periodontal disease without preventive care, can eventually lead to damage of the heart, liver, and kidneys.  You can read the full article on the importance of good dental health for pets here.  

One of the cornerstones of a good preventive dental care program for pets are regular dental cleanings by your pet's veterinarian.  February is dental health month, so many veterinary practices will offer special programs.  A proper dental cleaning is done under anesthesia, which is something many pet owners worry about.  While no anesthetic procedure is without risk, the risk of not taking care of your pet's teeth may be far greater than the risk of anesthesia.  Talk to you veterinarian about tailoring anesthetic protocols to your pet's special needs.  For more information on safe anesthesia for pets, click here.

Amber recently had her teeth cleaned, and she blogged about it on The Conscious Cat.  This is what the experience was like from her purrspective:

A couple of weeks ago, I had to undergo the dreaded bi-annual exam (you can read all about that ordeal here), and Fern, my vet, decided that I needed to have my teeth cleaned.  That finally happened last week.  Let me tell you, it was not a fun day.

I politely waited for Mom to get up like I do every other morning, and I led the way to the kitchen.  At first I thought Mom was just really tired that morning, because instead of feeding me, she just gave me fresh water.  Then she made her coffee.  Hello!  My food always comes before her coffee!  She kept saying "I'm sorry, Amber, I can't feed you this morning."  Well, sorry didn't quite cut it, we were talking about breakfast here, and I made my displeasure known in no uncertain terms.  When that didn't get the desired result, I tried flattery and rubbed against Mom's legs and purred.  Still no breakfast.  When she took her coffee into her office and started doing her computer stuff, I knew we had a serious problem.  I kept trying to remind her that she was forgetting something, but no breakfast appeared.  After about an hour of this, I gave up and curled up for a nap.  Maybe this was just a bad dream and I'd wake up and breakfast would be served.

Well, things only went downhill from there.  Mom woke me up from my nap - and I immediately knew it wasn't for breakfast.  She grabbed me off the nice and soft window perch I'd been sleeping on and stuck me into my carrier.  I knew resistance would be futile, but I still complained at the top of my voice.  I know it upsets Mom when I cry, but I was spitting mad!  Before I knew it, I was in the car and we were on the way to what I knew by now would be to the dreaded cat hospital.  I could have cried all the way there, but I decided to go easy on Mom and just grumbled occasionally.

Once we got there, I refused to come out of my carrier, knowing full well that they have ways to get me out, but I wasn't about to make it easy for them.  Fern was there, and two other women who, okay, I'll admit it, had good kitty vibes, but I wasn't feeling too friendly, so I ignored their pathetic attempts to make nice with me.  Mom dragged me out of the carrier while one of the women was holding on to it, and then Mom put me on the scale.  She was happy with what she saw there, so at least that was good.  Apparently, the measly rations that have passed for breakfast and dinner around here are working and I've lost a couple of pounds since my last visit to the cat hospital.  After being weighed, Mom put me on a table with a soft towel on top that was really nice and warm.  I have to admit, that felt pretty good, but I also knew it was supposed to give me a false sense of security.  Sure enough, seconds later, I felt a needle being stuck in my hip, and something cold and burning was injected into me.  A few seconds after that, I started feeling really weird - fuzzy and kind of tired.  I don't remember much after that.

When I woke up, Mom was holding me in her arms.  My mouth felt strange - a little sore, and there was this odd flavor coating all my teeth, nothing a cat should ever have to taste.  It smelled like what Mom's mouth smells like after she brushes her teeth.  I shudder to think they used that paste stuff I've seen her use on me while I was asleep.  Mom says it's called a fluoride treatment, but I say it tastes and smells nasty.  My throat was sore, like something had been shoved down it and then pulled out again.  Mom told me it was a breathing tube, but I don't really know what that means, nor do I care to!  I felt really weird - I wanted to wake up but I couldn't really control how to move my head or the rest of me.  But at least Mom was holding me, and that really helped.  Eventually, I felt a little better. I was able to lift my head and look around a little bit.  I can't say that I cared much for what I saw.  Fern and the two women who were responsible for everything that was done to me were still there.  They were now torturing another cat on the table I had been on earlier.

After what seemed like forever, Mom put me back in the carrier.  This time, I wasn't putting up any fuss about going in there - I've been through this enough to know it meant we were going home!  Once we got home, I still felt pretty crummy - just out of sorts, restless, tired, but yet not able to relax.  My eyes felt strange, and I couldn't see all that clearly.  The things I did see don't normally exist in my house, so I'm not sure what that was all about.   Mom says it's the drugs they gave me.  Finally, after a few hours of tripping like this, I was able to relax enough to take a nice long nap.

I know how important it is to keep my teeth nice and clean, but I sure am glad that this is over with for hopefully at least another six months.  And in all fairness, I know this is just as stressful for Mom as it is for me -she worries about me, and I love her for that.