There are only a handful of people you can call when one of your cows develops a bacterial infection known as “wooden tongue” or when another of your cows has a prolapsed uterus or when your horse gets hit with an eye problem.
Russ Baxley, the owner-operator of the region’s newest veterinary service, attended to all three animal ailments on a single muggy Tuesday last week, and he didn’t bat an eye. A couple of days before that, he’d put a cast on a horse’s foot and done some work on a diabetes detection dog out in Coffey County.
Onion Creek Veterinary, now in its second month, is a mobile service that Baxley operates out of his custom-built Ford F-250 Power Stroke pickup, a vehicle designed to function as the nearest thing to a lab. The setup allows Baxley the flexibility and range of movement typically lacking at your average brick-and-mortar vet’s office.
Baxley’s roving workstation contains more medical accessories than many rural clinics, most of which find storage in a specially designed aluminum cabinet unit that takes up the bulk of the truck’s bed. A partial list of contents include: a refrigerator; an ultrasound machine; a number of medication drawers containing injectables and other controlled drugs; a bandaging drawer; an area for preventatives; a small library of veterinary science textbooks; and a battery of LED lights that, when engaged, spreads a halo of light around the truck’s workspace.
While he isn’t currently equipped to perform major surgeries, Baxley, who graduated from Kansas State University’s veterinary school in 2013, can attend to most other large and small animal needs — vaccines, ear infections, skin disorders, pregnancy checks, dehorning, castration, foot ailments and plenty else besides.
“When I came back to this area,” said Baxley, who served for a period of years in the United States Army before finally launching Onion Creek in July, “I began to notice that there was a vacuum for vet services, especially in Woodson County. They have to drive, at minimum, 20 minutes to see a vet, if they decide to travel [east]. It’s about 25 minutes to Burlington, 30 to Eureka.”
Baxley’s homebase in rural Piqua is an ideal location from which to minister to animals in the handful of surrounding counties — Allen, Woodson, Coffey, Wilson, Anderson and Neosho. “Looking out across this entire area,” said the thoughtful, good-humored 47-year-old in a conversation at his place last Wednesday, “there exists a definite, definite need.”
BAXLEY’S PASSION for animals stretches back to his boyhood on the family farm outside Piqua. “Being brought up on the farm, I raised livestock for the fair and for other 4-H events. I’ve always had dogs. Animals just interest me. I’m basically,” said Baxley, pausing to watch a large, furry caterpillar about the size of a mustache slink across the floor of his shop. “I’m basically an outdoorsman, which means I like to hunt and trap and fish. But I can be in awe sometimes when I’m sitting there in the deer stand; not shooting at anything even, just watching.”
Last year, after returning from a tour of duty in Iraq, Baxley, fired with the idea of soon starting his own business, jotted down a few rules for self. Things like: “honesty and integrity in everything you do at all times,” “dream big, act small,” “operate squeaky clean,” “provide better service, better variety, better prices than your competitors,” “you will make mistakes — face them with dignity and professionalism, and move on.” He plans to revisit these hard-won rules for as long as Onion Creek Veterinary is a going concern. “Plus,” said Baxley, “the thing about starting this business, is that I learn something new that I can apply every day.”
The brand-new veterinary service takes its name from nearby Onion Creek, a slender ribbon of water, whose meandering route begins life on the Baxley family farm, the farm where Russ Baxley’s grandfather spent decades turning the land. “So, yes, there’s definitely sentimental value there,” said Baxley.
While he was talking, Baxley’s cell phone rang. It was a woman in Burlington. She had a litter of newborn puppies. They needed their shots. Baxley said he’d be happy to head her way. The woman hung up and Baxley returned to what he was saying. But then a large horsefly buzzed into the picture and repeatedly dive-bombed his face. The veterinarian swatted at it furiously with both hands until the fly departed. Baxley regained his calm. His thoughts drifted back to the phone call. He smiled. “I love puppies. Doesn’t everybody love puppies?”
