|Yes, I would like to get all of the vaccinations|
Then at about 7:30 PM Mrs. Ace catches Dexter, my tank of a Pit mix, sniffing in the trash. At 7:32 we find corn kernels all over the floor in the Florida room. At 7:35 we search through the trash and discover that Dexter has eaten 3 corn cobs. Being an ELITE animal owner, I know that these cobs are dangerous and can cause an obstruction because the hard center of the cobs can't be digested. My first thought is that I need to get him to puke this shit up. I know I could have him ingest some peroxide and make him puke, but I'd rather not go that route. So I take him outside and play some hardcore rope tug. Like the neighbors probably thought I was a homeless person fighting this dog for scraps. He still doesn't puke. I get him to drink a bowl of water. Still doesn't puke. Well, fuck.
All while I am doing this, Mrs. Ace is looking up fucking horror stories on the internet about dogs becoming flesh eating zombies or spontaneously combusting while trying to puke up corn cobs. So now I have to question my methods, because I don't want a zombie Dexter. Looks like I have to call....THE VET! FUCK!
Obviously my Vet is not in because it is Easter evening, and I don't really care for her that much anyways. So I call up MedVet and see what they have to say. They are very helpful and informative, and tell me that the best thing to do is to bring him in for some scans to see where the cobs are and how big they are. So off to MedVet we go.
So we get in the car and all I can think is that I am about to drop a G on this damn dog because I am an idiot who didn't bury the cobs and he is an ass hole. It's about a 15 minute drive and the entire time I am swerving, jamming my breaks, rolling one window down so the entire car vibrates to the point of almost busting your eardrum, and doing anything I can think of to get this dog to puke. I have never bargained with a dog before, but I offered him steak dinners for a month, free reign of the house while I am gone so he can chase the cat, nonstop peanut butter filled bones, and endless bitches for him to sex. Still no puke.
So we get to MedVet and Dexter gets taken back pretty quickly, just going to do some scans and then come talk with us about what is next. Should only take 15 minutes. So 45 minutes go by and I am totally mindfucking myself. I consider myself to be a rational and strong minded person, but even I can't keep the absolute worst scenarios from running through my head...or the craziest. My mind is switching between Dexter dying a horrible death of choking on his own vomit and corn cobs and the doctors calling the authorities as we wait because the scan revealed he ate a chainsaw because he totally would.
Finally after about an hour the Vet comes back and apologizes, saying she had to deal with an emergency situation. They have done the scans and they can't find any whole cobs, or anything that they are even sure is a corn cob. To the point where they are questioning if it was actually Dexter who ate the cobs and not my other dog. This is good news to me because that means he pulverized that shit while chowing down. The Vet says they want to give him some drugs that will make him puke it all up. Should only take about 15 minutes.
15 minutes goes by. 30 minutes. 45 minutes. A FUCKING HOUR! Now I'm fucking positive they had to have emergency surgery and rip his fucking stomach open. Again, mindfucked....my wife is going to lose her fucking mind if this dog dies, and that's not okay because I am going to lose my fucking mind...how do I explain this to my other dog?...am I going to have to pay for this shit? Finally, the Vet comes out and says he finally started puking(because he's a tank) and it's A LOT. We have to hang around for another 45 minutes or so to let the drugs wear off, but we are home free.
What a fucking night. And what a fucking ass hole. The people at MedVet were pretty spectacular in their service. I hate all hospital/doctor/vet type places, but my 4 hours spent there was alright. Also, when I told the tech that I only gave my dogs seasonal heartworm meds, I got a smiling nod of approval. Finally, somebody who doesn't want to poison other people's animals to put money in their pocket. NEVER FORGET!
We all seem to be a bunch of animal loving people, which means you have all probably found yourself in similar situations. Lets all come together today and discuss our own animal scares.
(P.S. CARRY IT MOTHER FUCKERS)