If it ain’t your mother, it’s your dog
While Mom is hulking around the house with her ski boot foot and coming to terms with needing to let her foot heal, the new problem child is Winston, our puppy. He’s 10 months old now – old enough that he needs to stop eating EVERYTHING. And I’m not even kidding one little bit.
We knew pretty early after getting him that we were going to have to be careful about the beads for a while until he grew up. And sure enough there was a famous Delica incident that caused him to have very sparkly poop for a day or two. And then there was the time I pulled Fireline out of his butt. He eats paper, books, stuffed animals, shoes, pens, hair clips, his brush, chewy bones that aren’t supposed to be destructible, clothing (he’s a total pantie thief), the tv remote control….it goes on and on. It takes me 20 minutes to pick up everything at night to puppy proof the house before I go to bed.
But this is really the ultimate. Mom had gone to bed and left her beading tray on the coffee table. No problem – I was still up and he doesn’t usually get destructive until no one’s around. But then I was in the office for a while on the computer and all of a sudden I hear the noise of his tag clinking against the plastic beading tray…so I jumped up and ran in there and sure enough, he was on the coffee table, the tray was askew, and he was chewing. So I swooped in and stuck my fingers in his mouth and came out with a very beautiful pink beaded flower for a new project Mom’s working on. Snatched out of the very jaws of destruction! Victory!
But not quite. Mom realized the next day that her bobbin of thread was missing from the tray. We searched and searched and couldn’t find it. Verdict? Winston ate it. Would it come out? Come unraveled? Did we need to take him to the vet? He started having some weird action from both ends of him, but we never saw the spool of thread ejected. So now we’re not sure. I’m keeping a close eye on him for signs of distress, but so far so good.
And he’s got a cast iron stomach, it seems. We had given him some hydrogen peroxide to induce vomiting to get it up that way and it didn’t even phase him. When I did that to my late dog, Kirby, after he’d gotten into some ant poison, Kirby frothed at the mouth for an hour after.
Winston is something else. And with a little luck, he might even make it to adulthood.