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Sinyeob started laughing. “Look, two for one!”

McKenzie was not amused.

Turning to Helen, I said, “Could you get Callie and keep her out of the magnet until we’re ready?” Helen beamed, happy to have a job to do.

As had been done at the dress rehearsal, Sinyeob programmed three types of scans. The first would be the localizer image to see where the dog’s brain was. This would allow us to set the field of view for the subsequent scans. Next would come the functional scans.

“How long do you want to scan?” asked Robert.

For human studies, we normally scan in blocks of about ten minutes. That is about as long as a person can stay engaged in a task while in the sca

“Let’s go with five minutes,” I said. With a complete scan through the brain taking two seconds, that would give us 150 images. Our goal was to get a consecutive sequence of ten images without movement somewhere in that block.

If we had time, and the dogs were up for it, the final scan would be a structural. It would be quick, but they would need to hold still for thirty seconds.

I turned to Andrew and said, “Are you ready?”

“Let’s do this!”

I looked at Callie and said, “Hey, Callie! Wa

Melissa put McKenzie in a pup tent that she had brought. This let her relax while we worked with Callie.

Rebeccah followed Callie and me into the magnet room and took up a position at the end of the patient table where she could closely monitor Callie for any signs of distress. I slipped the earmuffs over Callie’s head and motioned for her to go into the magnet. As she shimmied in, I ran around to the back end so that I was facing her. Callie scooted into the head coil and placed her head on the chin rest.

“Good girl!” I said, and gave her a hot dog. She wagged her tail and looked at me expectantly. Meanwhile, Andrew had taken up a position just to my left. I glanced at him.

“Do it.”

Andrew raised his hand and pointed to Robert, who was observing through a glass window in the control room. The sca

Callie’s eyes narrowed to slits. I held up a piece of hot dog but it was already too late. She had started to back out. Further confused by the lack of anything inside it, the sca

Rebeccah consoled Callie by stroking her chest. The earmuffs had slipped back and dangled uselessly around Callie’s neck.

I gave her some more hot dog pieces and repositioned the earmuffs to try again.

Callie went inside and once again assumed the sphinx position in the head coil. And once again, as soon as the sca

After two more tries, I was begi



Even with the extra training, the noise was worse than we had anticipated. Plus, the earmuffs kept sliding off. Maybe if we could get the earmuffs to make a better seal and stay on, the noise would be tolerable.

Rebeccah had the same thought. She rummaged through her vet tech gear and pulled out some gauze pads and a roll of nonadhesive tape—a clingy material called vet wrap. While I fed Callie a constant stream of hot dog, Rebeccah carefully placed a gauze pad between each of Callie’s ears and the earmuff. To keep it in place, Rebeccah wrapped her whole head with the vet wrap. Amazingly, Callie didn’t seem to mind this procedure. She ended up looking like she’d sustained a serious head injury, but the earmuffs were secure.

“Let’s try it again,” I said. Callie didn’t hear me, which was a good sign. I just motioned to the magnet, and she trotted in.

The magnet went through its click-whirrings, and I braced myself for the swarm of bees. I gave Callie some hot dog, and this time she stayed put. It seemed to go on forever. After thirty seconds, the buzzing was replaced by three brief klaxon sounds of the localizer. That meant the sca

Rebeccah giving Callie the wrap treatment.

(Bryan Meltz)

Callie wrapped and ready to rock!

(Bryan Meltz)

First localizer image of Callie.

(Gregory Berns)

Robert and Sinyeob were smiling and giving the thumbs-up sign through the window.

Sure enough, there on the sca

Next up were the functional scans. Robert opened a box on the screen to set the field of view. We oriented the FOV so that it was as if Callie’s head were a loaf of bread; the MRI would digitally slice her brain face-on, in what is called the coronal plane. Each slice would be 3.5 millimeters thick and, with twenty-five slices, that meant the depth of the box would be 87.5 millimeters—just under 3.5 inches. It didn’t leave much margin for error. If Callie placed her head in a different location, her brain would be out of the FOV, even if she held it perfectly still. I hoped the chin rest would do its job.

I looked at the clock. It was three o’clock. We had already burned up two hours just to get to this point, and we hadn’t even done anything with McKenzie yet. I made a mental note to switch to McKenzie at three thirty.

Callie’s energy level had noticeably decreased. She trotted up the stairs into the magnet, but now she wasn’t wagging her tail as much. This was actually a good thing. When she wagged her tail in the magnet, the fishtailing motion caused her head to move in rhythm with her tail.

Andrew took up his position at the rear of the magnet. He held a small box with four buttons. The button box was co