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Recognizing community contributions:
Tributes to Dr. George and Monica McKinney
a master of many skills Reprinted from an April 28, 1987 Suburban News article written by Paul Humphrey. On South Union, next to Taylor’s Honda parlor, is a brick-fronted building. It’s a veterinary hospital. The parking lot is full of creatures -- mostly cats and dogs. In the waiting room hangs a credential: “George McKinney Doctor of Veterinary Medicine,” and farther back somewhere is Doc himself, busy attending to whiskery patients. All this started in November of 1941, right where Del Carr had moved his gas station down from Union and Route 31, and Harry Fowler ran a hot dog stand. First there was a rented 20x30 foot structure, which George bought in 1946. This was later moved 200 feet nearer the village and enlarged with two wings. In 1955, the whole place was remodeled; and there it is. George graduated from Chesbrough Seminary, now Roberts Wesleyan College, in 1934. After three years in the meat business, he decided on a professional career in dentistry, but a liking for livestock took over. Accepted at Cornell’s College of Veterinary Medicine in 1937, he graduated in 1941. For ten years, George worked mostly with large animals, This meant a lot of house, or rather, barn calls on cows and horses. Looking after those biggies required muscle as well as skill, and a case of bovine obstetrics could last a whole night. Cows have other problems; they nibbled up odds and ends along with digestible greenery -- things you wouldn’t think of -- such as nails, wire bottle caps, and small change. Nothing, says George, is sicker than a sick cow. Horses suffered from harness abrasions, and, just like people, colic. Much more serious were sleeping sickness and lock jaw, the latter resulting from hoofing through rotted wood and rusty junk. And some dentistry after all; horses’ teeth to be filed or pulled; you just never know. After several back operations, Dr. McKinney began concentrating on household animals. As patients got smaller, the practice got larger, and the variety demanding. Along with cats and dogs came rabbits, coons, skunks, squirrels, gerbils, hamsters, monkeys and guinea pigs. … Some generalities are of interest, says philosopher George. He feels that folks who get along well with animals do better with other people, and that dogs seem to be more comfortable with women. Little pooches tend to be snappy and skittish, maybe because they’re more apt to be side-tracked or stepped on, but not by George. And rabies, once very common as in the middle forties when 25 to 30 cases were reported, has become less frequent. There’s another aspect of the Doc that’s above and beyond calls of duty. McKinney is a licensed pilot, and has been an enthusiastic flyer for 28 years (noted in 1987), owning four airplanes, the present one being a Cessna 180 amphibian. Most of his flying is recreational, to fishing sites in Florida, Canada and the Adirondacks. … Dr. McKinney wonders about trends in breeds. Once the country was yipping with cockers and Scotties. Then came a tide of boxers. Whatever, George can fix it. After all these years of piloting planes and pampering pups, George deserves a special dog: Skye Terrier?
Ralph McKinney adds these notes of family history (In a phone conversation with Linda Michielsen for Westside News Inc.) My Mom and Dad, George McKinney and Monica (Morgan) McKinney, grew up together in the Spencerport area; they were neighbors on Whittier Road. They lived in Ithaca after they were married, Dad attending college at Cornell and Mom working as a nurse at the hospital. Money was scarce and they conserved in every way they could. Fortunately, they lived at the top of one of the many hills in the Ithaca area. In the morning, they would give the car a push and jump in, coasting all the way down into the city and saving their precious gasoline for the return trip up the hill at the end of the workday. They both smoked and allowed themselves the luxury of one pack of cigarettes a week. They each got half of the pack, and proceeded to hide them. It was “the rule of the game” that if one of them found the other’s cigarette, the finder could keep it. The first animal hospital was in a converted hot dog stand just south of the present hospital. In the 1950s, the present office was built. Mom worked at the hospital for a while, until she became allergic to animal dander, and thus ended her career in the field. My parents bought a small house at 249 Lyell Avenue. One of the little rooms had a gorgeous red carpet on the floor. (I’m sure that was the reason they bought the house). As my mom was vacuuming one day, the carpet pulled up a bit. Much to her surprise, there was no flooring underneath the carpet -- just hard packed dirt and magazines. There was a time that Dad thought I needed a little more “agriculture” in my life, so a cow was purchased for the back yard as my ag project. I first met my wife (Barbara Ellsworth) when we were three years old. The Ellsworth’s dog had fallen in a well, and they brought the dog to my Dad to be checked over. Dressed in cowboy outfit complete with holster and gun, I saw Barbara get out of the car and immediately pulled my gun on her and took her into custody. This was the “first meeting of the families.” Don Ellsworth (Barbara’s father) and Dad went on to be great friends. Don, owner of Spencerport Outboard, became a pilot in 1956, and Dad followed in about 1960. They did a lot of flying and eventually purchased float planes. They loved to go fishing in upper Quebec, and flew there many times. The only languages spoken there were French and Cree. Don and Dad became good friends with the Indians, and had many adventures and mis-adventures. Dad loved to go fishing. He was happy to spend all day sitting in a boat; it didn’t matter whether he caught anything or not. He did make a memorable catch one day, though. He caught a 10 lb. 4 oz. brook trout on a 6 lb. line. This catch won him the “Field and Stream” Fishing Award, of which he is very proud. Dad went through a “ferret stage” and became a ferret expert. He figured out a way to de-scent them. The animals had to be neutered and the scent glands removed in a certain order to accomplish this. At one time, he had as many as 50 ferrets at the office. His office creatures were a part of his life. I remember the annual Christmas parties held for the office staff. All the small animals were released from their cages to join the party. It was quite a sight -- the people and the animals (cats, hunting dogs and ferrets). Everyone reportedly had a great time. Shirley Cox Husted My memories of the good doctor and his wife come from Wautoma Beach in Hamlin where they owned a summer place on the lakeshore. I have now been there 70 summers and think I’ve lived there longer than anyone else has, summers at least. When I was a young girl, I loved to stop and talk with Mrs. McKinney. He was usually out working on his boat and she was doing housework inside the cottage. She never failed to pay great attention to a little girl who wanted to talk and I’ll never forget how kind a person that she was. He found little time to enjoy his power boat, though, because of the demands of his practice. I miss them every time I pass the cottage or their Spencerport office. They were indeed good neighbors. Ted Walker Thank you, Dr. McKinney, for 60 years of service to our community. With your door always open for the normal visiting hours and for the emergencies at your office or the pet’s home, you showed how a successful business should be run. You cared about each and every patient as much as their owner’s did. Most everyone in our community who had a pet knew the familiar brick building at 370 South Union Street that was the home to Dr. McKinney’s Veterinary. Generations of pets and families respected Dr. McKinney’s caring, relaxing and understanding attitude to the most precious of family members. The pet treats at the end of each visit showed your friendship to the ones you served. Business success is mostly through the attitude the business owners have toward their customers and yours was 60 years worth of caring and dedication. Thank you for being part of our lives and community for so long. from Ralph McKinney My memories of my Dad are all positive. He is a brilliant, kind and gentle man who has love for his family, his work and his community. When I was very young, I remember my Dad getting paid in chickens and eggs and sometimes not at all. If we got a call on Christmas Eve or the middle of the night, he always took care of his patient immediately, because he didn’t want them to suffer. If the owner was poor or a member of the clergy, or if a child brought in an animal they had found, the treatment was always first class, but Dad would “forget” to charge for his services. He always charged well below the “going rate” and was offended by those who charged excessively and/or provided unnecessary and costly services. In the early days, Dad always brought pets home for rehabilitation. His patients were frequently part of our family. One evening he brought home a beautifully colored sheltie which had had its front legs broken in an auto accident. The sheltie’s front legs were in casts and so it had to walk around the living room on its rear legs only. I was about five years old, and my dog, Sheppie, had recently been killed by a car. When I asked, “Is it for me?”, the owner almost handed their pet over. You could not spend much time with my Dad without hearing a story or being entertained by some tall tale. He once caught a 35 lb. salmon and brought it home. He then put it in the creek next to our house so he could video tape it and show it to his friends in Montana and tell them about the big fish that one can catch in Spencerport. On one occasion, he took me on a “horse call” to a local farm. The farmer was not there, so we handled it alone. He introduced me to the horse, saying, “Charlie, this is Ralph. Ralph, this is Charlie.” … “Charlie has a cold,” he said, “Cough for me Charlie” was followed by a very loud and powerful cough. I was amazed! Dad said, “You could at least have turned your head.” Since his recent retirement, Dad has gotten some phone calls. One patient’s owner said she always felt a bit guilty going to Dad, because he didn’t charge enough. Another said she had been brokenhearted when her pet died. She then was amazed when Dad went into the back room and brought her one of his puppies as a replacement. I saw that happen a lot! I remember when my first grade teacher at St. John’s (Sister Frances Raphael) used to have her dog, Trixie, next to her desk each day in school. Trixie was a black cocker spaniel and we all thought she was our dog. Someone thought a dog didn’t belong in the classroom and Sister was told to have the dog destroyed. Dad tried to talk her out of it, but it was a decision that would not change. If you are a dog lover, be assured no loving pet under Dad’s care ever “went to heaven” prematurely. All found loving homes. I have always looked up to my Dad and Mom. They are both models of honesty, integrity, kindness, strength, respect and all the qualities that we all hold dear. Elliott Reynolds I have wonderful memories that go back over fifty years of Doc and Monie McKinney. My parents were friends of theirs and at age ten or eleven I became friends of their son, Ralph. After that we spent many hours fishing at their place at Wautoma Beach, Black Lake and early morning trips to Spring Creek in Caledonia. Doc and Max Russer used to take us fishing at Salmon Creek using bucktail lures we helped him make in his cellar back in the 1950s. He made us catch and release before it became popular. He taught me to appreciate wildlife and nature and bought me my first fishing pole and archery set that I have to this day. He made Ralph and me “earn” our way with jobs around the hospital and the house. Every young boy needs a non family member to be his mentor and hero and Doc is mine. He and Monie helped shape my life. I spent many hours following Doc around the hospital, “helping” with operations and animal care and must have driven him crazy with my questions. I went to college intending to be a vet but life has a way of changing things. I remember watching a surgery on a cat that died on the table and I think George felt worse than the owners when he told them. He had compassion for all the animals. When the dog warden brought in dogs to be euthanized, he gave them extra attention and time and a few of the lucky ones went home with him rather than put them down. Doc never got over his farm boy humor. He reveled in spinning stories to us when we were young and I always fell for it. I remember a call to the True Farm on Washington Street where a cow had gotten into green alfalfa and bloated. The procedure at the time was to insert a screw driver type instrument with a steel sheath around it, through the cow’s side and into the stomach. Doc told me to look real close and when my face was close to the insertion he pulled the center part out. All the gas hit me in the face and I went over in the manure trough with a mouth full of methane and worse. We laughed for years about that day. He was always a lot of fun for young inpressionable kids and he loved his job and we loved being with him. Spencerport and Ogden are better places because Doc and Monie McKinney shared their lives with us. Thanks, Doc and Monie, we love ya. from Eileen Morgan Blakely Growing up with a veterinarian in the family (uncle to my brothers and me, brother-in-law to my parents) had its advantages. Trips to the vet for us were always accompanied by a private glimpse into the back kennels and a visit with all the boarding animals. We got to play with the most recent stray Uncle George had adopted and were in awe of the bright lights and smell of the operating room. We delighted in the loving attention shown to our pets, thinking mistakenly this was reserved for relatives only. Having a relative as your vet also had an occasional challenge, especially in a small village like Spencerport. I remember this especially in the 1960s when the annual village sidewalk sale had a pet show as a major event. My younger brother, Jimmy, probably four or five at the time, was eager to enter our new sheltie puppy. He, with the help of my mom, bathed and brushed our cute little “Skosie” and proudly proceeded into the village that fine summer day. They had discussed how there would be many pretty animals there and that in this situation, Uncle George was really “Dr. McKinney” first in this important job. Jimmy proudly brought Skosie forward and stood very still as Dr. McKinney checked her over carefully. I can only imagine my mother’s anxiety as she watched her five year old in this somewhat political situation. She sighed with relief I’m sure as the judging ended and Jimmy walked away. At the conclusion of the show, when Skosie’s name was called for a prize, I can still recall my mother’s expression as Jimmy proudly walked forward to claim his award, loudly exclaiming, “Thanks, Uncle George!” As an uncle, we delighted in a man of many interests and talents. We looked forward to family gatherings when we got to hear the many tall tales that seemed to take hours to unfold. There were stories of wrestling black bears … of seaplanes ending upside down in the trees or the mountains … and always … a fishing story. There was always a point in the story where you saw a faint smile and a little glimmer in Uncle George’s eyes when you realized with disappointment (and glee) that you’d been had again! As time passes, my kids now have animals that no longer benefit from the loving care of an uncle. Village pet shows are a thing of the past. However, on an occasional visit with Uncle George, I still enjoy shorter versions of those tall tales and still see the little smile and glimmer that I’ll never forget! With loving thanks and good wishes to Uncle George and dear Aunt Monie -- Sue M. A few years ago, I was a very busy working mom, raising four daughters and attending college. I had offered to watch my boyfriend’s dog over Thanksgiving. Smokey was prone to seizures, and Doc had prescribed a daily dose of tranquilizers to keep his condition in check. On Thanksgiving morning I awoke at 4:30 a.m. to prepare our traditional feast, clean the house for company, and get some homework done before the kids got up. I remembered to wrap Smokey’s pill in a slice of cheese and handed it to him as I swallowed my vitamin. Immediately I realized I had made a mistake as I grabbed the half-eaten cheese out of the dog’s mouth and discovered my vitamin within. I had swallowed the dog’s tranquilizer! Desperate with worry, I called Doc for advice. Despite the fact that a frantic woman was calling at 5 a.m. on Thanksgiving morning with a crazy story about taking Smokey’s tranquilizer, Doc was cool and calm. He told me not to worry, I would be a bit tired, but the dog’s pill would not harm me. As a matter of fact, I was so tired that day that I did not see Smokey walk by me when I opened the front door for the morning paper. Smokey wandered off to a neighbor’s house, and spent Thanksgiving with a French poodle named Fife. I spent the day on my sofa, asleep. My family prepared dinner. I can’t recall if I had turkey or Alpo, but I do recall Doc McKinney’s kindness. Jim Bauman Not too long ago at a social gathering of several long time friends of the McKinneys, I was told of an incident involving Dr. McKinney and a utility company. It seems that the utility company was installing a new utility pole in front of Dr. McKinney’s office and was taking too long to finish the work, which was disrupting Dr. Kinney’s appointments and animals. After several requests by Doc to the workers outside to complete the job, the utility workers seemed to ignore his request and stalled even longer. Annoyed and upset, Doc waited until they went on a lunch break and then he took the scent glands from a skunk, placed them in the bottom of the hole where the utility pole was to be placed. That afternoon the workers placed the heavy pole in the hole and you can guess the results … Doc was satisfied. How much of this was true or not I’ll never know, but it does make for good lore. Maybe some readers can expand on this story, fact or fiction. Pat and Bernie Barton The town and village residents, due to the wonderful blessings of the “Golden Years,” are losing the services of the most caring, kind and dedicated veterinarian we ever had the pleasure of knowing. Doc, with his beloved Monie always backing him up, was on call any hour of the day or night to minister to ailing animals. We remember one time when we had to take our little pug to another vet. He was one of the roughest and impersonal men we ever had the “pleasure” of meeting. We couldn’t wait for Doc to get back. Our thoughts and prayers are with you, Doc and Monie. It is our hope that you will have some quality years to enjoy the retirement you both so richly deserve. Reita Beyer Getman I’ve known Dr. George and Monie McKinney all my life. As a child, my family always had animals of one kind or another. Then as I grew up and had my own family, the cats were the majority. When we had to pay George a visit with our “children,” he was always so kind and re-assuring. You just knew everything would be OK. As far as I’m concerned, no one can ever take our favorite vet’s place. Madeline Ryan I lived in Greece, but always came to Spencerport to Dr. George McKinney when my dog was ill. He was always very considerate and helpful. Once I heard the police ask for help on the phone, a dog was badly injured. I told them of Dr. McKinney, who at the time was at the lake. The police called there and the Doc came to his office and helped the dog. P.S. I am 90 years of age and have had dogs since I was 10. Jill McDonald I would like to say a few words about Dr. George McKinney. I have lived in the Spencerport area for over 37 years on and off and I have gone to Dr. McKinney for veterinarian care for all of my pets during that time. Even when I moved out of the area to the city for a few years, I still brought my pets to Dr. McKinney when they needed veterinary care. I have never been “well to do” financially and I think Dr. McKinney sensed this and varied his rates accordingly. I think Dr. McKinney was a good judge of how much our pets meant to us and how much we loved them. Even when I brought in pets at the end stage of life, he did what he could to make them comfortable for their last days. It is never easy to put down a beloved pet. It is a very emotional time and Dr. McKinney handled this with care and grace. I will always be grateful to him for this. I wish Dr. McKinney and his wife well in their retirement, and I bless him for all that he has done for me and my pets over the years. Thanks to all who submitted letters |
