Dog ownership hazard #52

At Christmas we had a nice beef roast and my husband saved several of the bones for Elliot. He froze a few of them and last Monday pulled one out of the tundra to thaw for a treat. He went out on the back patio with Elliot figuring he could read while the dog gnawed. I was sitting at my desk trying to clean it some and I saw Elliot come inside out of the corner of my eye. A few seconds later I saw Tom follow him inside. A couple of seconds later the dog walked by again and went out the door. Then came Tom. I was too engrossed in my chore that I didn't register anything abnormal. I heard Tom talk to the dog, but again, I went on with what I was doing. Then the dog came in again, followed by Tom. When the dog returned and exited again with Tom at his heels I asked what was happening.

Tom's face was full of anguish. "I think the dog has a bone stuck in his mouth." He sighed. "I can't believe it."

I immediately took action. I freaked out. "WHAT? WHAT? What do you mean stuck in his mouth? On the roof? In his throat? Is he going to die? Is he crying? What are you doing? What should we do? Oh, god, this is why we shouldn't have a dog! All of the manuals say not to give dogs real bones."

But I was talking to the air because Tom was once again outside with the dog, and so I stood in the doorway and shouted it all over again in case he had missed it the first time. By this time Darcy was outside and she and Tom dealt with trying to remove the bone which was lodged over his canine tooth on the bottom of his mouth. He, of course, wanted nothing to do with these humans sticking their fingers in his mouth or messing with his mouth at all. He would get away from them and frantically try to use his tongue to dislodge the bone that was sticking in in such a way that Elliot could not close his mouth.

I refused to do anything physical. Instead I barked orders. "Darcy, pick him up. Hold his mouth open. Do you want tweezers?" I got tweezers and suggested Tom call the vet. It was 5:20 pm. on a Monday at this point, but the vet answered. Tom was having a deep conversation with the office that to me seemed to go on forever and so I interrupted. "Why are you standing here talking? Get in the car and talk to them at the office." I made Darcy go with him and I shooed them out the door.

They were back within forty five minutes and Elliot was happy and smiling. Darcy was covered in beef dog slobber and immediately went into the shower. Tom looked like he had been involved in a dramatic rescue that included heroic actions. I asked how it went first from him.

Tom: "It took no time at all. The vet just popped it right off. I mean, I could have done it myself. I just couldn't hold Elliot at the same time. His tooth went right through the bone and got stuck. Dogs teeth are so strong. I just couldn't get to it because he wouldn't let me. The lady took him back and she was back before I could finish filling out the paperwork. It was that quick."

Darcy, entering the room from her shower, rolled her eyes. I figured there was more to the story so I asked.

Darcy: "First of all, you couldn't have gotten it out Dad. We tried. I was holding Elliot and you were too afraid to stick your hand in his mouth. You were afraid he was going to bite you. I was afraid of that too. And if you want my opinion, you filled out the paperwork really terrible. No one is going to be able to read the gibberish you wrote on those forms."

Tom: "Well, they wanted my social security number. And they asked for my address and my phone number. Why would they need all of that? I didn't think I needed to fill out that stuff."

Darcy: "For their records. But they won't be able to read what you filled out. I'm telling you. It was awful. The lady came and got Elliot and left us to fill out the forms. She brought him right back to us in like a minute. That's how easy they did it. We had to stay and finish filling out the paperwork. That took longer than anything."

It all seemed very odd to me and upon further questioning I discovered that they hadn't gone to our vet. While on the phone with our vet they had sent him to the after hours emergency vet clinic because they were backed up and closed at our office. Darcy, while holding a slobbering and frantic Elliot, had had to find the clinic address on her phone and direct Tom to the place.

Darcy: "Yeah. And Dad says to the lady that he just needs someone to hold Elliot and then he can get the bone off. Like I wasn't already holding Elliot and he hadn't already tried to get the bone off. The lady looked at him like he was nuts and said the doctor would take care of it, sit down and fill out these forms. Which he made a mess of. He couldn't even get our address right."

I told her privately later to stop picking on her dad since he had been scared and not thinking clearly.

Sort of how I act when I deal with children emergencies. Like the time I had to drive to the ER with both girls to take Darcy in with a head wound. Just one of the reason why I stay out of the dog business when Tom is home. I figure its his turn with the son.

Tom mentioned later that there had been no charge for the visit. "I mean we weren't there longer than five minutes. Why would they charge for that? I could have gotten it off myself if the lady had just held Elliot."

I smiled and didn't bother to tell him that's why they had had him fill out the paperwork. I'm sure a bill will arrive any day now. Or maybe not. Because Tom's handwriting was illegible. Either way our dog was saved! Whew.