Reviews of Carrington Animal Hospital in Westbank

Two weeks ago I brought my cat, Misha in for bloodwork.
An hour and a half later, at home, she was DEAD.

I knew Misha could go at anytime. She was a very overweight senior cat.

However, upon her examination, with Dr. Linda Crews attending, she informed me that Misha's heart rate exceeded that of a normal nervous cat at the vet. I pointed out the Anisocoria (one pupil larger than the other) in her eyes. She dismissed it, stating that it could be caused by many factors. Misha was taken in the back for bloodwork and other treatments. I didn't question this, we trust our vets.

Now I'm questioning EVERYTHING.
Why was her heart not the priority? Dr. Crews KNEW her heart rate was excessively high, yet didn't address the issue.
Why was Misha taken away to have bloodwork done?
Why could I not be with her to comfort her and help reduce the stress?
With past veterinarians, I was always with my cats for small procedures. I am quite sure the added stress was too much and ultimately killed her later on that day. If things had been handled differently, I'm quite sure Misha would be sitting beside me at this moment.

In addition, I have spent in the last five years at Carrington Hospital, approximately $14,000 in cat food and a few appointments and I did not even receive ONE phone call after Misha's death.

I had called the clinic the day after her passing and was informed that Dr. Crews was off that day, but would most likely call me anyways due to the circumstances.
So I waited. Patiently. For two weeks. Nothing. I kept checking my messages in case I had missed the call. Still nothing.

Two days ago I took back Misha's unused medication. The girl at the desk saw me, recognized me and tried to stifle a smile behind her monitor. Towards the end of the transaction, she spoke to me in a soft, solemn voice. But it was too late. I had seen that smirk.

So, Misha, my dearest companion of almost fifteen years, who had been there when I had hit rock bottom, who had been with me during my recovery, who had woken me time and time again from nightmares, who had loved me and I her, who I miss terribly every single day, was not worthy of one single lousy phone call and her death was only acknowledged by a smirk from an insensitive little girl hiding behind a monitor.

Misha deserved the best veterinary care and Carrington Hospital definitely was not capable of giving that to her.