Medical Adventures

And why are we looking at x-rays? And whose interior is this? Just guess... Poor Lil' Robin started looking green on Wednesday evening and then spent the night throwing up. Needless to say, Bob and I got very little sleep what with cleaning up doggie barf and pulling on pants and running outside. Just as we'd drowse off, Robin would need to go out again. Thursday she seemed okay early on. She ate her meals- not with much enthusiasm, but she ate. And pooped. (That's always important!) We went on our walk and she was alert and inquisitive; but when we returned home, she curled up in a small ball and slept most of the day. Friday morning, Robin just looked so under the weather that I skipped out of work and took her to the doctor. Robin had no temperature and she didn't seem in pain when her stomach was pressed, but her vet suggested x-rays. We all began to suspect she had eaten something that was lodged in her interior... like that damned new rawhide chew bone that I had given her on Wednesday and that was mysteriously devoured and gone almost immediately. Sure enough, the vet thinks a darkish circular area is probably that stupid piece of rawhide!*
So while Robin is still eating (small, simple meals of rice and organic low salt chicken broth and a bit of chicken) she doesn't seem to be eliminating much. I keep hoping that she'll just puke up that rawhide fragment or her stomach acids will break it down. She's running around, albeit not as actively as is usual for her and isn't really uncomfortable but it can't feel good.
Another view:

 So we're left, during a holiday weekend no less, with the fact that if she doesn't eat or can't poop that they may have to go in, do surgery and physically remove the obstruction. I've always heard these nightmare stories of dogs that swallow bones or corncobs or rocks that have to be surgically removed. Our good friends Don and Elizabeth (who visited this weekend with their dog Romeo) told us a funny but dreadful story of a dog that ate a billiard ball. They thought the dog was a goner because the vet assured them that it would never pass through their dog and they weren't prepared to pay the several thousand dollars the surgery would require.(!!?!?!?!!) But a few nights after this death sentence, their dog threw up the ball... in the middle of a dinner party and without the colored coating. (Apparently the dog's stomach acid had removed the finish on the ball!) So we can keep our fingers crossed!


*The dilemma is what exactly to give to a dog like Robin who loves to chew. She's a serious chewer! She doesn't like Nylabones, she consumes Kongs so fast that it's like an Olympic contest and most other treats just don't hold her attention or hold up under her powerful mastication. I used to give Robin hard sticks (thinking "all natural") but several friends warned  me about them with horror stories of how the get stuck in dog's guts. The irony! The vet recommended antlers and marrow bones so we'll try those.

Building A Wall

I realize that the title of this post seems to refer to a notorious project that is being trumpeted about by a recent occupier of the White House (that will cost billions and accomplish nothing other than to make many people's lives worse than they already are...). But in this instance, the title refers to various barricades that Bob and I now live with as a matter of course. These demi-walls are set up to temporarily block a certain young dog access to rooms in our house.(Hi Robin!)

As we all fondly remember, Lil' Robin the Good refused to be confined when she was a mere pup. She scaled barriers of every description and height, perhaps employing magical powers, as she seemed to miraculously appear on the other side of whatever wall was erected. It was impressive. We finally relented, and gave her the run of the house and so far we have suffered no disastrous consequence, excepting Robin's consumption (with no ill effect) of several pairs of reading glasses, sun glasses and Bob's prescription glasses and a passel of pens.
However, when we're not present, we do restrict her access to a few rooms with these temporary barriers. Inexplicably, these pieces of plywood and fiberboard work where more serious blockades never did. And you may ask, why not just close the doors to these rooms? Because Lil' Robin doesn't like closed doors and will scratch and whine vigorously until the door is opened.

My studio, the bedroom and the "office" are all off limits as they are beyond impossible to secure from her idiosyncratic quest for things to chew. (I call it "shopping": she cases a room, checking out all nose-height surfaces.) Robin seems content to roam the rest of the house, and in general, we have been lucky that furniture has been spared. And Robin was a pretty quick study in the house training department; we really didn't experience many "accidents" of the liquids and solids variety.

And look! There's Lil' Robin now, with an entertaining assortment of her preferred chewables: empty seltzer bottles and plastic perennial pots, with the occasional foray into more traditional things like balls. And below? The Magic Robin! (Looks sort of like she's saying "Who me? I didn't eat that!")

And Yet Another Puppy Post!

Robin lost two teeth today! She has a goofy gap-toothed grin as her two front lower baby teeth fell out. She probably swallowed them. But teething is a way serious issue for little dogs: wake up and let the chewing begin! Here's another action shot:

Yes, that's an actual, untouched photo of her mouth in action. But just when you exclaim, "What were we thinking?" and decide that little Robin was pick of the litter at Satan's Puppy Mill, she falls asleep on your stomach and has delicate puppy dreams and is all warm and squishy..

That all occurs in the space of three minutes. It does keep you on your toes. (Of course, an entire blog entry and inquiry could easily be devoted to considering just what a puppy dreams about. Robin has been alive a grand total of fifteen or sixteen weeks and would not seem to have a huge range of life experiences. But dream she does: howling and twitching and eyes rolling wildly. Curious!) But she is a grade a student when it comes to house training. Not one accident yesterday at all!
But I have a vet appointment today for puppy booster shots and an ear check (seems to be shaking her head and rubbing her ears). I realized that with the exception of the harrowing eight hour odyssey that she endured on her Pennsylvania to Connecticut adventure, she has no car experience. So I bundled her into the car, thinking to drive around the block and prepare her for Thursday's excursion. No sooner had I rounded the first bend than I thought, "Gee, she's awfully quiet" and I glanced into the rear view mirror to see her nose becoming visibly longer and pointier and well, greener (no mean trick for a black puppy!) and her tongue came out and she drooled prodigiously and the next thing I knew her lunch was on the seat along side her. Poor little Robin! We'll see how she fares today on a half hour journey...
But despite the puppy preoccupation, she's a good kid and has been helpful while I clean up the garden. She likes carrying sticks around and has done a fine job of jumping on the piles of leaves I've raked. She's been really good in my studio, too, where there is no end of excitement and danger. Bob and I are both preparing for a show upcoming at The Trailer Box Project in Danbury. I think Bob's pretty much on top of things, but I lost a month when mourning Jules and have a bit of catching up to do. (Mostly sewing backings on pieces and tweaking a book I hope to complete). Thank the stars that Robin has been mostly cooperative!