I had a getaway weekend with Keziah and when I came back (late coming and going thank you very much VIA Rail), I was exhausted. I heard my stepson mutter something about Clancy not eating all day. I chalked it up to the heat and tumbled into bed.
The next day she started vomiting. Repeatedly. She couldn’t keep anything down for two days – not even water. We knew we were in trouble when she didn’t come either for her nightly treat of a vitamin E capsule nor a cuddle with DH.
I called the vet on Thursday and they said to bring her in as soon as possible. We ran through all the possible scenarios, but since I had been away, I had no idea what she could have gotten into.
She was very dehydrated at this point so they kept her overnight on an IV. Her bowels were impacted and nothing was moving so they tried two enemas. Still no luck and she was getting weaker. We decided to go for surgery.
And a good thing we did.
Apparently her plastic chewing fetish almost killed her.
No one (including the vet) can figure out how she managed to chew this in half and swallow this stitch holder
Let alone swallow this one whole.
The green one had started moving into her bowel and causing serious damage.
This is the result:
Neither of these were readily accessible – she had to climb onto my desk to get them. That being said, they were not locked up so ultimately it’s my fault.
Lesson learned – even if you think it’s too big to swallow, it isn’t.
A $2000 lesson, but I’m grateful she pulled through and that we made the decision to operate. Had we delayed any longer, she would have died.
This is what the next two weeks look like – a cone of shame (which is a officially also a weapon) and I have to give her three pills twice a day. I’m not sure who’s being punished more.