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Little Bitty Chetfix

Tuesday, October 23, 2012

I've been working hard on the Chet Baker book lately, writing chapter after chapter. It's such fun it doesn't feel much like work. Like living with him. He's no trouble at all, just a joy. 

Well, sometimes he presents a problem. We all do from time to time.

Chet eats grass. A lot of grass. The problem is, he's a carnivore, and his teeth aren't really suited to grinding grass. So he tends to swallow many of the long blades whole.

A few days ago he came in and lay down at my feet as he usually does while I'm writing. He kept doing that wheezy snort that we call The Wheezles. When he starts that he can't get his breath. So I cover his nostrils until he breathes through his mouth and after a little while that stops the cycle of wheezing and snorting. 

This time it didn't work. He went into a full-blown case of The Wheezles, his four legs spraddled out to the side. He just wasn't getting any air. 

And then he started sneezing. He sneezed and sneezed until he hit his nose on the floor and it started to bleed. Blood and mucus flew everywhere. And still he sneezed, nonstop.

I became thoroughly alarmed and suspected he had inhaled something up his nose, maybe a grass seed or a bug.  I knelt with him on the floor, holding his head so he wouldn't bonk his nose, mopping away the mucus, and still he sneezed. He was rigid and panicking, just like me.

I dialed his veterinarian with one hand and got an answering machine. These things always happen after hours, the Thursday that they're closed, and on weekends and holidays. That's the First Law of Dog Emergencies, isn't it?

So I called Dr. Lutz at home. Another answering machine. Left a frantic message saying I was heading into town with a barely oxygenated Boston terrier. That's all I could think to do. Get help, somehow. I wasn't sure I could make the half-hour drive with him sneezing the whole time, but I couldn't lose him like this. I knew there was a 24-hour emergency veterinarian in Parkersburg, about 40 minutes away. Gaaah! 40 minutes away?? Just one of those times when you realize that living in the back of nowhere can be hazardous.

And as I knelt to pick him up I saw something sticking out of his left nostril. The end of a blade of grass. Which he must have swallowed, and which then made its way not down his throat but up his esophagus, over the soft palate and into his nasal passage from the back. Uccch! 

I pulled on it and a 2 1/2 inch-long blade of grass came out of that poor puppeh's nosehole. And the sneezing stopped, and Chet started breathing again. He put his paws on my knee and kissed me for knowing what to do. Well, I didn't do anything. His body got rid of the obstruction in the only way it could. I just sped the process. Oooch, imagine having a piece of grass come through your nose.

It was turrible, Mether. I am so glad you got that grass out of my nosehole.
I have squirtles to chase. Things to do. 

Chet Baker I am not sure grass in your nosehole would kill you but you certainly did a good impression of a dying doggeh. You scairt Mether. Don't do that, Bacon.

We love you too much.

You have miles to run with me yet.

I know. We have a lot to do, don't we? And you have a book to finish. So get to it.

I want to go on tour.


WE love him too much too.

Terrifying! So glad Chet is ok.

Why do dogs eat grass??? Drive me crazy. Luna does this and then has intestine distress. UGH... Always hits in the middle of the night too. Double UGH. I am so glad that Chet is ok despite the dramatics.

A turrible scare! We want Chet to stay with you (and us) for a long time! Good job, Julie!

So glad you figured it out and he's ok. I once saw a year-old baby sneeze a piece of linguini out of her nose. Her mother said she had eaten it for dinner the night before! ENTs lives are probably a lot more exciting than we realize.

Whew! So glad the boy is OK. That is scary. What lovely and loving photos you posted.

How will you EVER finish the book if Chet keeps writing new chapters like this...!

I read about this scare on your FB page, Mr. Chet Baker. And of course was so relieved at the end of the story I was laughing a bit hysterically! And now that I read that comment about a baby with linguini in her nose--still in there from the day before--NO linguini for you. No No No. The protector must be protected. <3

Thank heaven....a happy ending. You really had me in fits for a while there.

My kitties eat grass to cope with hairballs.......I hope I nev er have to deal with an inhaled blade o grass.

Chet dear--Oh no--such a scare. I keep telling my dog not to eat grass--but she doesn't listen to me either.
Fortunately for her she has a long snout, so no grass comes out her nose. However, grass upsets her tummy and when she rushes to the front door and stands there with her head down, I know to let her outside fast--or else I will be mopping up yucky yellow stuff.

You probably scared 5 years off Mether and that's not good.

You have too many cows, squirrels and other fuzzy things to chase.

Fart on dude.

Chet Baker! Grass up the nose? Glad everything turned out okay. We have a giant black cat with chronic upper respiratory issues so I understand the panic of sneezing, wheezing, and trying desperately to suck in air. I also understand wiping and picking buggers out of my cats nose. Ah, it's the life!

Oh, and I also was VERY surprised recently when my husband announced that he "LOVES those little black and white dogs" and thinks we should get one. 10 years of marriage. Who knew?

Chet was merely "helping" you with the book by inserting some much needed drama.

And, yes, these emergencies ALWAYS happen on the weekend. In the middle of the night. Usually on a holiday weekend to boot. I have far too frequently turned up at the emergency vet wearing pajamas, robe, and slippers, after a harrowing twenty-minute drive that consists of driving fast and pretending red lights are blinking red lights.

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