Dogs have a way of humbling us. What a wonderful gift! I was reminded of this life lesson this weekend when presented with our deaf dog Pogue's first foray into induced vomiting. What is it with these male setters? I have lived with setters for 15 years and none of my girls have EVER had the dreaded peroxide syringe forced down their throat after ingesting something they shouldn't. My first Irish Setter Seamus had the infamous pan of dark chocolate brownies 10 minutes before we were leaving for a dinner party where we were responsible for bringing dessert. Dugan, well, those who read this blog know Dugan's track record of eating things he shouldn't is variety at it's best. In 11 years with us he's ingested everything from a giant sized Toblerone, a bag of whole wheat flour, a canister of multivitamins and my personal favorite 17 Peanut Butter & Chocolate Power Bars ingested in 10 minutes by opening the pantry door and seeing what looked good while I leash trained Caelan in our cul-de-sac for 10 FREAKIN' MINUTES. One golden wrapper of said Power Bar is stapled to the front of his vet record file as a reminder to us all not to shop at Costco in bulk for protein bars.
I swear I could see a look of pride in Dugan's eyes as he passed the forced-vomit-40cc- syringe- torch down to his young protege this past Saturday night.
Dugan and Pogue had a tag team effort going on. While I ran upstairs to get dressed and ready to go to a charity volunteer event that Alex is chairing for his company they made their move. Alex was in the shower and let's face it, he is not the most vigilant in thwarting deviant behavior anyway. (flashback last week - "Oh, I didn't know the dogs weren't supposed to chew your flip-flops? I thought they were toys. They are they same color as that one toy they have.") Dugan took the lead and popped open the child lock on the cabinet under the sink that houses the garbage can. I imagine he gave Pogue the paws-up sign that I move slow coming down stairs due to bad knee so let's get going! Dugan wasted no time eating old pizza crust and Pogue found gold...or I should say silver in the form of an aluminum Philadelphia cream cheese wrapper left over from that morning's bagels. You know those damn wrappers hold onto cream cheese for dear life so you always throw them out with creamy cheese goodness still there. Pogue had found his treasure.
Caelan meanwhile, our tattle tale female Irish Setter started her "shrieky bark" which she only uses when another dog is doing something they shouldn't like harassing a cat. My ears immediately alerted to this distinct bark, which by the way would have sounded like any other bark to my husband. I sprinted downstairs, okay well, I hobbled really, really fast to see Pogue chomping away at the wrapper and garbage all over the kitchen floor. I did the "no" sign, I did the "naughty" hand sign, I even did the karate chop "Stop it right now I'm totally serious about it" sign. Pogue stood poised and ready for flight out the doggie door, slurping and chomping foil wrapper. I took one step towards him and he flew out the door into the back yard.
I followed in a great looking ensemble of a shirt, no pants and garden clogs I keep at the back door. (did I mention I was getting dressed earlier?) Thankful for our privacy fence and fearful GoogleEarth satellites may be capturing this moment in time I played catch me if you can with Pogue. He gave me one final chase on and off the deck before swallowing the wrapper whole. Shit. Intestinal blockage on a Saturday. E-Vet is $100 to walk in the door to make my dog puke.
My husband, fully clothed and ready to leave came upon the scene of me swearing my head off in the powder room with Pogue on a leash, while looking for non-expired peroxide. Dugan by the way cleared off anything edible from the garbage mess and was laying in the living room like "I did nothing. You can't prove anything."
Believe it or not the humbling had not even begun.
Seamus would take the peroxide like a kid swallowing nasty cough medicine, he didn't like it, but he didn't fight it. Our dear Dugan actually sits outside like a good patient when you force the peroxide down his throat. Is this because he is such a veteran? I don't know. But he does and I guess I took this for granted as little Pogue was having nothing of it. 35 minutes of my 6 foot 1 husband and my so-called years of "animal skills" and that little bastard Pogue evaded every effort in getting peroxide into him. 37 pounds of wily puppy that contorted himself like a Cirque de Soleil performer to avoid that syringe in his throat. Alex and I were covered in peroxide from failed attempts leaving bleached out marks on our clothes as mementos forevermore. I may have unintentionally highlighted some of my hair as well.
We attempted to mask the syringe with canned pumpkin, tripe, peanut butter and in sheer desperation ice cream. Pogue saw through it all and clamped his jaw shut like a vice the moment the peroxide hit his mouth. As the minutes ticked by the profanities increased as Alex was the one setting up the booth at the event and we were supposed to leave already and now he was covered in sticky ice cream, smelly tripe and as a final "F-You" he stepped in doggie doo.
Alex went to change his shoes and I had a "come to Jesus moment" with Pogue. I'm not proud of manhandling my sweet spotty boy, but desperate times call for desperate measures. No more sweet talk, he couldn't hear it anyway. I fell back on my vet clinic days and restrained that dog with my legs like a wild boar and stuck that syringe far down his throat until the peroxide was drained from the syringe. 30 seconds later he vomited 3 times. An array of ice cream, tripe, peanut butter and one whole Philadelphia Cream Cheese wrapper. Alex of course missed it all so I can be the bad lady who forces things down the puppy's throat. Sigh.
The following days proved to be more battle of wills and humbling as Pogue made it very clear he will not be pilled nor ingest Maalox without a fight. When I ran my pet sitting business people used to hire me for $20 medication visits to come and pill their cats or dogs. I always felt like I was robbing them as it was so simple and I would scoff "what the hell is wrong with these people, it's so easy!" Well, those words came to haunt me as pukey pup (who couldn't have any food the first 24 hours post vomit till his stomach settled) would not take his tummy meds without much theatrics. Howling, whining, spitting pink colored tablets out in my face. In fact I think Pogue is ready for the theater as he acted like a starving sickly waif from a silent movie all weekend. He only wanted me to hold him while wrapped in a soft blanket. He would add a shudder every now and then for effect between snoozing. Alex was booted from the bed Saturday night so Pogue could lay under the covers with me and recuperate.
I'm happy to report today Pogue is back to his old self. Digestion is back in normal working order. Child-lock on garbage cabinet has been adjusted. I will never judge anybody else for not being able to dose something to their animal companion. I have lovely new highlights. I am humble.
