I’m laying in bed this morning staring at the dog bed on the floor next to me. On most mornings it is the first thing that I see when I wake; my dog Bear sleeping peacefully on its billowy top. But this morning it is different. This morning the bed is empty. Rewind 24 hours…
Sunday morning began just as every other day does. Lots of hectic action with three dogs prancing around the house, waiting excitedly for breakfast, walks and the start of a new day. Nothing was out of the ordinary, or so I thought. My dog Bear ate her breakfast with gusto, as she typically does, and lapped up the small bit of water in her bowl that I offered her. When she vomited (Sign #1) a while later it still seemed a typical day. Bear’s a rapid eater, so I always err on the safe side, controlling her portions of food to avoid the possibility of bloat and reflux, and allowing only small amounts of water at spaced out intervals. I’ve learned over the years that if I’m not careful, breakfast is served twice, by way of making its way upward from her stomach, onto the floor, and back down again! Anyways, after she got sick, she was soon running across the pasture, not a care in the world, and barking at the imaginary something that’s only seen by her, which resides by the gate in the corner of the pasture! All was fine, again, so I thought.
Throughout the day Bear nibbled on grass, and I attributed it to her upset stomach. She got sick again, and I determined it was due to the grass, and decided to feed her a bland diet of rice and chicken for her evening meal. When dinner rolled around, she seemed hungry, but didn’t attack her food with the exuberance that she typically does, (Sign #2) so I let her stomach rest and didn’t feed her, deciding to take her to the vet the next day if she was still feeling this way. She didn’t seem to care and laid down on the floor next to my desk. It was in the early hours of Monday morning that Bear’s condition went from just being an upset stomach to complete lethargy and we made an emergency trip to the vet. A quick exam, followed by a set of x-ray images showed a whole lot of gas, (Sign #3) and a possible obstruction, in Bear’s small intestine. Had she swallowed a rock or larger object, it would have been obvious, but the vet suspected it could be a piece of cloth, which is difficult to conclude from an x-ray. Blood was drawn and an IV was started to get fluids into her body, and to also try to push the said object through. A second set of x-rays two hours later proved that the object hadn’t budged, and surgery was recommended. Outcome…one sock, one happy dog, and one VERY happy me!
Intestinal blockages vary and are dangerous. I’ve only pointed out a couple of the symptoms, but am sharing this great article, Symptoms of intestinal blockage in dogs for further information on symptoms to be wary of.
I began writing this for two reasons. One to share the symptoms of intestinal blockage, and the other to share a reminder of how fragile life is. I was reminded once again by my dogs how quickly it can change. One thing that struck me as I sat with Bear after her IV was put in place, was the kennel we were in. It was a little over three years ago that I shared that same kennel for several days with Cain. Talk about emotional! I have many things to be thankful for and given the events over the past 48 hours, I would like to extend the biggest thanks to all of the fabulous veterinarians at Deer Creek Animal Hospital, and the support and love of so many friends, one of whom pointed out that Bear made it through with the help of a friend named Cain. And with that, I’m off to hug my dogs and go visit Bear!
