Last week Scout ate a dead mouse; she swallowed it in one big gulp. Found on the side of the street during a walk, she picked up the flattened carcus. Unwilling to reach into her mouth and pull the mouse out, I pryed her jaw open, turned her upside down and hoped it would just fall out. It did not.
At first I figured, oh well, I'm sure she's eaten worse crap that I haven't known about. But then I realized 1) She is a ten pound dog and ate a one pound mouse, 2) The flattened mouse had clearly been there a while and therefore 3) It was probably diseased. I called the vet to confirm this line of thinking and they informed me that yes, the mouse needed to come out of the Scout's belly. Luckily, they said she'd probably do this on her own.
When two hours passed and no mouse puke had ocurred, I called the vet back. They said to give her hydrogen peroxide to make her throw up. When she wouldn't simply drink the poison (figured I'd try)I decided a turkey baster would be the best method. But Scout is a fast little mo-fo and she can fit in places that even I, almost a legal midget, cannot even attempt.
I spent about half an hour chasing her around with the baster and seemed to have more on my shirt than in her mouth. Then, I waited for her to vomit.
She didn't.
They told me to give her more. Repeat baster chase. Repeat no vomit.
Scout was pissed at me and looked miserable from the hydrogen peroxide tummy ache but all my efforts produced no mouse. I brought her in to the vet. After an exam, the vet technician began to tell me my options. About 30 seconds into the speech, Scout finally puked up the mouse... on the technician's foot.
The sight of the mouse foot on the technicians foot, made me want to drink some hydrogen peroxide myself. When she grabbed a paper towel and picked the partially digested body up to eye level, I sincerely wished for momentary blindness. Anyone know a doctor that can Eternal Sunshine this memory away like Tom Wilkinson did for Jim Carey?
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