What a tiny Yorkie’s surgery tells you about Dubai

There are few moments more unsettling than handing over your dog to a surgeon. When I left my 10-year-old Yorkshire terrier Cozy at Al Barsha Veterinary Hospital this week, I was certainly more anxious than her.

She was a little upset at being separated from her owner, but was blissfully unaware that she was about to undergo major orthopaedic surgery to repair a ruptured cranial cruciate ligament – the canine equivalent of the ACL injury that strikes fear into the hearts of professional footballers.

I, meanwhile, was wondering how I would get through the next 24 hours.

I’ve owned dogs for most of my life – a succession of tough outdoor breeds and some rugged mongrels. I never imagined I would become so completely devoted to a tiny Yorkshire terrier weighing barely 2.4 kilograms.

But I was smitten from the moment she arrived as a three-month-old pup.

She had endured a traumatic separation from her mother in Ukraine, followed by a long flight to Dubai. Exhausted, dishevelled and thoroughly bewildered, she demanded only one thing: love and protection.

She got that immediately, but has repaid it many times over. I’ve written previously how, when Iranian missiles were being explosively intercepted in the skies high over our heads, she would bark defiantly at the ceiling, defending the household in her own small display of resilience.

During the conflict, some overseas reports revelled in stories of pets supposedly abandoned by owners fleeing the UAE. There were undoubtedly distressing individual cases, and animal charities deserve enormous credit for stepping in where needed. But that is only one side of the story.

On the other side is the care and concern you will witness in any vet waiting room on any given day, where owners from every nationality fret over family members who walk on four legs.

And we spend huge amounts of money on our pets – something I have truly appreciated only over the past few weeks. My crash course has introduced me to orthopaedic surgeons, digital imaging, specialist anaesthetists and rehabilitation programmes.

There are canine ophthalmologists, dermatologists, neurologists and oncologists, as well as specialists in exotic animals ranging from reptiles to birds of prey. The occasional lion cub needs specialist care too.

The surgeon treating Cozy, Mehdi Mzabi, has developed a particular expertise in repairing complex leg injuries in small dogs. It is a level of specialisation that would have surprised many who still imagine veterinary practice consists largely of vaccinations on a reluctant labrador.

A knowledgeable local historian tells me that the UAE has been building world-class veterinary expertise for decades.

Before expatriates in large numbers began seeking care for family pets, the country had already developed advanced veterinary medicine to support animals of immense cultural and economic importance: racing thoroughbreds, endurance horses, camels and, perhaps most famously of all, falcons.

Those traditions created a depth of expertise upon which today’s companion-animal sector has flourished.

It has also become serious business. The UAE veterinary services market is now worth around half a billion dollars annually and continues to grow rapidly as more families choose to make the Emirates their permanent home.

Along Al Wasl Road, veterinary hospitals sit comfortably beside swanky cosmetic clinics, boutique cafés and dentists promising a “Hollywood smile”, reflecting a city where healthcare increasingly extends to everybody, whether on two legs or four.

We looked at several clinics before deciding that our destination would be Al Barsha. Mehdi’s hospital lacked some of the glamour of the Jumeirah palaces, but it possessed something more appealing: an air of quiet competence and confidence that inspired trust from the moment we walked through the door.

• Pet travel companies report deluge of enquiries from Gulf
• The UK media’s hunt for the expat influencer tax-evading dog abuser
• Pets on jets: How the UAE is cashing in on furry travel

By the following morning – alhamdulillah – that confidence had been rewarded. Cozy came home.

She was still sleepy, a little bewildered and sporting a heavily bandaged leg that will require weeks of careful rehabilitation.

The squeaky ball remains off limits for a few weeks, as do our weekend walks to the “Doggy Café” at the Marriott Harbour Hotel. Those pleasures will have to wait.

But she is home, safe and recovering.

Her surgical experience taught me this: one of the quieter signs of Dubai’s maturity is not another skyscraper or financial institution.

It is the confidence that, should one very small Yorkie require highly specialised surgery, that expertise is available a short drive away.

Cities don’t become homes because they build taller towers. They become homes because, when a member of your family needs care, you know help is at hand.

Frank Kane is Editor-at-Large of AGBI and an award-winning business journalist