So we had a bit of a fright yesterday morning. My baby boy (aka 70 pound Rottweiler), Bear, swallowed a sock. That's right. A whole sock. Just gone is one felt swoop. Asshole.
We strictly do not let our dogs play with socks because Piper loves to carry them around and then chew on them when she finds one laying around.
This particular sock was one of my favorite ASICS running socks, of course. Piper had already gotten ahold of it and stretched it out so I was letting her enjoy 10 more minutes of sock bliss while I finished my makeup for the day and before I threw it away for good.
Upon exiting the bathroom, I find Piper has abandoned the sock for the much shinier red Kong bone that Bear is normally attached to, and find the sock sticking out of Bear's mouth. Shit. Now we have a dilemma.
With Piper I can yell "DROP IT!" and she obeys. Well, Bear is a boy and a Rotty so he's a stubborn ass, and as soon as I reach for the sock he swallows it whole. (Cue freak out.)
I call the emergency vet and the woman on the phone says I need to bring him in for X-rays so they can see if they can use a scope to get it out or if they would have to (and I quote) "cut him open".
Great thing to say to a panicked dog owner, mam, really. I ask if those were the only two options and she assures me they are.
So I rush Bear to the vet, simultaneously trying to follow my phone's GPS instructions whilst bawling my eyes out. In hindsight, probably not the safest thing in the world.
At some point I remember thinking to myself. "I'm suppose to babysit a child all weekend and I can't even keep a dog safe!" Oh, the drama.
Once we get to the vet, they promptly explain how I would be paying an arm, a leg, and my first born child to cover the costs of the visit. OK OK I get it just help my dog!
They take Bear back for an X-ray and luckily the sock seems to still be in his stomach and his intestines look OK. The vet told me they were going to use a medication to force him to throw up and hope that the sock would come out that way. (That's interesting, doom and gloom sister on the phone earlier didn't mention that option.)
So I wait in an exam room for the news. I'm sure the nurses and vets were in the back like, "this chick needs to pull herself together." Yes. I was a hot. mess.
After what seemed like an eternity, the nurse (are they called nurses at the vet? IDK - just the chicks who help the vet) pops her head in and says with a big smile:
"Would you like your sock back???" -Nurse
"OMG It came out! THANK GOD! And no, I don't want it back." - Me (She was kidding moron)
"Yes, the sock is out and so is what looks like foam bedding." - Nurse
"Oh yes, him and his sister chewed up some of his new bed last night." - Me
(Nurse gives me puzzled look and goes to call animal services b/c this bisch is crazy.)
SO Bear is OK and the vet and nurses were raving about what a good dog he was. They let a tiny puppy lay next to him during "recovery" and they apparently loved each other.
We have some medicines to give him for a few days just to help with the discomfort, but he should be as good as new soon!
And our house will be on high alert for any socks, small household items, young children, etc. that Bear could possibly misinterpret as edible.
This shame-ridden photo was taken on the way home from the vet.
Now maybe we'll remember to leave socks alone!?!?
All kidding aside, I don't know what I would do if I lost my lovable Bear. He is the sweetest big baby ever and I'm extremely attached to him. I'm incredibly relieved that the situation wasn't as bad as it could have been and that he will be fine.
Now off to go scoop poop at the vet for the next 3 years to pay off our bill.