If you follow me on Instagram, you saw this pathetic picture I posted of my sweet Binky last Monday night...
Now if that just isn't the saddest (that's not a word, is it?) face you've ever seen then I don't know what is.
Monday night I came home from class that evening just like always. The first thing I did was play with Bink a bit and let him outside. Like always, I just let him out in the backyard with the other dogs and went back inside to put my stuff away and take off my makeup.
When I went to let him back in, it looked like he was eating something. Now, let it be known that I'm super strict with what I give my dog. He only gets treats that I've bought for him, no table food, no bones, only dog food. Since I didn't give him any of this before he went outside I was confused.
I grabbed him and tried to open up his mouth to see what he was chewing on. He keep pulling his head away from me and still making a chewing type sound, but his tounge was flailing all over the place.
I sat him down by his water bowl thinking that whatever was in his mouth he could wash it down with a drink.
He started running around the room and rubbing his face all over the place, like he was trying to get something out. Finally I yelled his name to get his attention so he'd look at me, and he looked straight at me but his mouth was hanging wide open. He couldn't shut his mouth at all.
Insert panic. For real.
I was at the point of tears, and while my dad was trying to help me keep Binky still so we could see what was stuck in there, and hopefully get it out, I was yelling that my dad needs to quit giving his dog bones (actual bones, not dog bones) so that my dog won't get a hold of one. Yes, I was yelling at my dad and putting all the blame on him.
Finally when I noticed Binky drooling (mostly because he couldn't close his mouth) and constantly closing his eyes and drowsing off like he was going to pass out I decided I was going to the emergency vet.
On my way there, as I'm bawling my eyes out and trying to keep him awake, I got lost. I called the vet to see exactly where they're located and the lady proceeded to tell me, "There's other people here, you won't be seen right away." In my state of panic, I yelled, "My dog is CHOKING on something, he needs to be seen like NOW."
I'm quite pleasant when I'm upset if you haven't already noticed. ;)
I finally find the place and as soon as I walked in, I'm not sure if she recognized me as the crazy lady she spoke with on the phone, or if she realized it was an emergency, but she took Binky straight back while I filled out some paperwork.
As soon as I turned in the paper to the front desk, the vet came out holding a pair of forceps asking who "the little blonde dog" belonged to. When I told her he was mine, she showed me a tiny little stick that was stuck in his mouth. She was able to get it out with no problems and she said he'd be fine.
Whew, thank goodness. I finally got him back and headed home...
Sweet boy better be glad I love him.
The moral of the story? I will never be able to have my own actual HUMAN children. I panicked far too much with my 3 pound dog. I can't even imagine the hysterics I would've been in if it had been my own flesh and blood.
Oh, and P.S. I later apologized to my dad for blaming him for a "bone" when it was actually a stick. ;)