You can't take a pacemaker out of one human and replant it in another, for fear of what medical science refers to technically as "cooties."

Dogs, however, are not so particular.

Margie Leja of Dearborn Heights lost her mother-in-law in July. That's not "lost" as in wandered off, but rather lost in the sense that we're not built to last forever, and Genevieve wore out at 90.

Leja adored Genevieve, who bowled and drove until she was 85. "A wonderful mother-in-law," she says, and someone who's missed.

Leja also adores dogs, and those two passions are now connected by something Genevieve donated after her passing:

The little device that occasionally jump-started her heart.

At the request of the family, the funeral home removed her pacemaker and sent it to the veterinary college at Michigan State University. There, if they haven't done so already, surgeons will redeposit it beneath the fur of an ailing animal, most likely one with a waggable tail.

The surgery goes for $2,000 or so, says veterinarian and associate professor Bari Olivier, a deep discount compared to the price at most places that do the work. The pacemaker itself, $7,000 on up at your local Bed, Bath & Surgical Devices, is free.

"It's such a fantastic gift that can be passed on," says Leja, 63, "and nobody knows about it." Or at least, most people didn't. But now more of them will.

Fido stands to benefit

Today's pacemakers are about the size and weight of an Oreo.

At MSU, the vast majority of them go to the dogs, simply because dogs are more likely than other animals to suffer from what's known as third-degree heart block. An experienced surgeon like Olivier can insert one in as little as an hour. Place the device along the neck, slide a wire down the jugular vein, and a poodle with a pulse rate of 20 to 40 beats per minute will be back up to 80-100 before the anesthesia wears off.

Some of them are donated new by manufacturers like Medtronic. Most, however, come gently used, and without them, "we would have a serious problem," Olivier says. MSU performs up to 30 procedures annually, more than twice as many as a few years ago, and the number might well go up if more pacemakers were available.

Removing them from donors is easy and free. They have to be snared by a mortician anyway if there's a cremation, lest they explode or expel unpleasant things like mercury. Just ask, Olivier says, and most funeral homes will gladly ship them to East Lansing.

Can't take it with you

Leja first heard of the program from a funeral director 20 years ago, when her dad died. As someone whose present herd includes a greyhound and two beagles, all rescued, she was immediately intrigued.

About three weeks later, the veterinary school dropped her a note. "They said my father's pacemaker was used for a seeing-eye dog whose family would never have been able to buy one," she says.

That was all she needed to know, and enough to make her want to spread the word. It's the easiest way imaginable to be a buddy to a bulldog or a saint to a St. Bernard.

This article appeared in the Detroit News and was written by This e-mail address is being protected from spambots, you need JavaScript enabled to view it . Please visit this site