Healing The Healer: Texas A&M Helps Irish Wolfhound Fulfill His Life-Saving Mission

Story by Sophie Cela, VMBS Marketing & Communications

November 19, 2025

Confronted with a liver shunt too complex for standard treatment, Texas A&M veterinarians across specialties joined forces to pioneer a new approach. 

MacIntosh Otto is hard to miss — he’s a 100-pound, 1-and-a-half-year-old Irish Wolfhound with a calm nature and a nose that can nudge just about anything off a kitchen counter. 

Mac’s owners, Lisa and David Otto, were drawn to his laid-back personality, believing it made him perfect for the meaningful role they envisioned — bringing comfort as a therapy dog. 

Beneath his gentle demeanor, however, was a hidden condition that threatened his health: Mac was born with a liver shunt. 

The Ottos weren’t strangers to the diagnosis; years earlier, they had helped care for another Irish Wolfhound puppy with the same condition and witnessed the successful outcome of treatment at Texas A&M’s Small Animal Teaching Hospital (SATH), so when Mac was diagnosed, they knew where they wanted to turn. 

Thanks to Dr. Genna Atiee, a clinical assistant professor of internal medicine and interventional radiology at the Texas A&M College of Veterinary Medicine & Biomedical Sciences, and collaborative efforts across the hospital, Mac’s case became a first-of-its-kind success that allowed him to live the life he was meant to lead. 

A Lifelong Love For Gentle Giants 

The Ottos had always owned smaller dog breeds, but Lisa’s longtime dream of welcoming a giant breed into their family became a reality when she brought home her first Great Dane for her 50th birthday. 

As her appreciation for large breeds grew, one afternoon at PetSmart, Lisa and her daughter had an unexpected encounter that left a lasting impression.

“An Irish Wolfhound came up to my daughter and just gently reached up and touched her nose,” Lisa said. “She’s nearly 6 feet tall herself, and the Wolfhound wasn’t even on his hind legs.” 

The Ottos fell in love, and soon after, they began their search for an Irish Wolfhound of their own. 

Because the breed is rare — their tragically short lifespans have earned them the nickname “Heartbreak Hounds” — it took two years to find Konnery. During their 10 years with Konnery, he was bred with a friend’s Wolfhound, and it was one of those puppies, Buckley, who introduced the Ottos to liver shunts and Texas A&M’s veterinary expertise. 

“I went to many of Buckley’s appointments,” Lisa said. “He ended up getting adopted by a veterinary technician student who coordinated his surgery through the university. He did so well that he outlived three of his siblings.” 

Meeting MacIntosh 

Years later, the Ottos were ready to welcome another Wolfhound into their family to join their Great Dane, Mabel, and their Schnauzer, Magnolia. They connected with a breeder in Austin and reserved the last male puppy: MacIntosh.

“When we visited Mac, we fell in love,” Lisa said. “He was sweet, calm, and quiet. He just laid in my granddaughter’s arms while all the other puppies were crazy and running around.”

Given her previous experience with Buckley, Lisa asked whether the puppies had been tested for liver shunts, and a few days after bringing Mac home, the breeders’ results arrived — Mac was one out of nine puppies born with the condition. 

A liver shunt affects the way blood flows in the body. Normally, blood from the gastrointestinal tract — which includes nutrients and waste from digestion — travels directly to the liver — which filters and processes this “dirty” blood before it moves into the rest of the body. 

In dogs with a liver shunt, however, there’s an abnormal blood vessel — a connection that shouldn’t exist — that causes this unfiltered blood to bypass the liver entirely.

“Instead of being cleaned, the dirty blood is sent straight into the body’s regular circulation,” Atiee said. “This means the body is exposed to harmful substances and the liver doesn’t get the blood it needs to grow and function properly.” 

Without that critical blood flow, the liver stays small and underdeveloped, and the dog’s overall health begins to suffer.

While most shunts are located outside the liver (extrahepatic) and can often be corrected through surgery, in rarer cases — like Mac’s — the shunt is intrahepatic, or inside the liver, making treatment more complex.

A Challenge Like Never Before 

As soon as MacIntosh was diagnosed, the Ottos scheduled an appointment at Texas A&M; there, the SATH’s interventional radiology team used the standard approach for treating intrahepatic liver shunts: a transvenous percutaneous coil embolization. 

“This is a minimally invasive procedure where a catheter is inserted into a vein and guided to a specific blood vessel using real-time X-ray imaging,” Atiee said. “Once the catheter is in place, small metal coils are placed inside the abnormal vessel, creating a clot that gradually closes off the shunt.”

The team was able to reach Mac’s shunt only with help from the SATH Cardiology Service, which provided catheters large enough for his size. After accessing the vessel, the team placed a stent — a mesh-like tube meant to keep the coils from migrating — but then ran into a problem. 

“Mac’s anatomy was exceptionally complex,” Atiee said. “The opening of his shunt was shared with several other vessels, which made it incredibly difficult to access. This was made worse after placing the stent — we could no longer get into the shunt to place the coils.”

After struggling for a second time to access the vessel, this time using specialized equipment to improve surgical visibility, the team, out of options, made the bold decision to try something that, to their knowledge, had never been done before. With help from the SATH Soft Tissue Surgery Service, they took a different route — directly through the abdomen. 

“We made a small incision and accessed a separate vessel from the other side,” Atiee said. “From there, we navigated into the shunt from the opposite side and were finally able to place the coils.” 

In total, Mac’s treatment spanned more than 10 hours over three separate attempts.

His treatment also reflects what makes a teaching hospital truly special: collaboration, innovation, and an unwavering commitment to helping the patient. 

“We have the luxury of leaning on other services at a moment’s notice. It’s what allows us to do such unique, cutting-edge work,” Atiee said. “The entire hospital rallied around this case, supporting our teams and, most importantly, Mac and his family.” 

Just as important as the teamwork was the trust placed in them by the Otto family.

“We told them we’d never done this before — that there were unknowns — and they still believed in us,” Atiee said. “Even after multiple failed attempts.”

Because of the procedure’s uniqueness and educational value, the hospital was also able to offer financial support through a special fund reserved for educational cases. 

A Higher Calling 

Mac’s case wasn’t just about solving a medical challenge — it was about helping him step into a role that could change lives. 

“My daughter has special needs, and years ago, when she went nose-to-nose with the Wolfhound at PetSmart, I saw the impact these dogs leave,” Otto said. “After that, I worked with a group called Faithful Paws to train my big giants — my first Great Dane and my first two Wolfhounds — to be therapy dogs.” 

Over the years, those dogs brought joy to patients and families across hospitals, nursing homes, libraries, and rehabilitation centers. 

“Konnery was invited to visit President George H. W. Bush and First Lady Barbara Bush during a hospital stay,” Otto said. “He licked the president from his chin to his forehead — even the Secret Service was laughing.” 

Knowing the blessing these dogs bring, the Ottos had no doubt that Mac was worth the investment. 

“There is a special love that these guys give,” Otto said. “When I take them to the library, I lay a blanket on the floor, they lay down, and kids come up and lay against them like a chair and read to them. For these kids — especially children who have dyslexia and are afraid to read out loud — these guys are amazing.”

When Atiee learned what Otto hoped for Mac, the case took on a new meaning. 

“To be able to help this owner in such a noble quest was particularly motivating,” Atiee said. “I’m a mother of a special needs child and we frequent Texas Children’s, so I’ve seen firsthand what a difference these dogs can make in kids’ lives. I knew I couldn’t fail this dog.”

A New Chapter 

Today, Mac is thriving. He’s off all medications except one he’ll likely take for the rest of his life — a small tradeoff considering where he started. 

Best of all, he’s back with his siblings, including a very special one. 

Just weeks after welcoming Mac into their home, the Ottos got an unexpected call from the breeder. One of Mac’s littermates — Falkor — had been returned, and the breeder offered him to the Ottos as a gift. 

With Mac and Falkor now reunited — and Mabel the Great Dane leading the mischief — life in the Otto household is as energetic as ever. From flipping couches to stealing snacks off the kitchen counter, there’s always something going on. 

The Ottos also are working to get the entire crew of gentle giants certified as therapy dogs. 

“There’s no telling how many people these dogs are going to bless,” Otto said. “They’re more than just pets. They’re family. They’re healers. They’re hope.”

###

For more information about the Texas A&M College of Veterinary Medicine & Biomedical Sciences, please visit our website at vetmed.tamu.edu or join us on Facebook, Instagram, and Twitter.

Contact Information: Jennifer Gauntt, Director of VMBS Communications, Texas A&M College of Veterinary Medicine & Biomedical Sciences, jgauntt@cvm.tamu.edu, 979-862-4216

Print