C is for Cone

A little over a month ago my poor pup started showing signs of illness. I took him into school with me to be seen by one of the vets in the hospital and they couldn’t find anything obvious. Trying to save me money, they didn’t do a full work up and sent me home with medicines they thought would help.

A couple days went by and “Steve” wasn’t getting any better. I brought him in again. This time they thought maybe he had a crazy food allergy and that was the reason he was not eating or “tossing his cookies” every time he tried. He was really starting to pull at my heart strings. He would stand by his food bowl, staring longingly at this food. You could practically hear the internal doggie monologue.

Meanwhile, a whole week had gone by and my puppy was losing weight instead of gaining like normal. His ribs were starting to show and you could even see the bony prominences along his spine. Desperate for some solution, I rushed him off to school with me Monday morning. The worst part of the whole thing was that he was still his happy little self. He even stopped to greet my fellow student, tail wagging, as we entered the building.

Luckily, the physical exam that morning revealed his issue. Palpation of his abdomen (~belly) and rectal exam revealed a squeaking noise. Bummer. Steve had swallowed the squeaker from one of the dog toys and it was now obstructing his intestines. He couldn’t eat anything because he was all stopped up.

One, expensive surgery later and he is as good as new. And, super cute with his “cone” on.