More Poo Chronicles... or "Don't You Die on MY WATCH!"

It's not that I am overly fascinated by poo. As a matter of course, I am pretty repulsed by it.

I have become a wizard of the poop scoop 'flick' that can get even the most difficult or sticky poo off the ground and into the scoop shovel. Long grass and putty poo? No problem. Syrupy straining from stressed pups? Gotcha. I wholeheartedly prefer the easy, firm little turds of healthy, happy dogs, but occasionally, well... I don't get my way.

More disgusting yet; I scrutinize poop. I look at it closely. It is a harbinger of physical condition for it's donor and a quick screening can determine a lot about it's donor's health.

Although poop is good, no poop can also be a sign of trouble too. Especially if your poopee is a 'regular'.

In a previous blog I had written about the 'stuff' that dogs eat and the anguish that accompanies the 'passage' of said stuff.

I had 4 Residency Training dogs here at one time for being consummate consumers of stuff. For days, I leash walked these critters many times a day, each and every outing so I could do two things:

A) Be assured that they didn't eat more stuff

B) Be assured that what remaining stuff they had consumed prior to their residency was passed successfully.

I am not surprised at neither the quality or quantity of stuff I retrieve with my sooper pooper scooper the first few days of a dog's residency.

Most recent in the news is a dog who consumed about $400.00 and successfully passed it, much to his owners dubious delight.

I was not willing to determine the denomination of the pale green bills that were excreted by one of my recent guests. I guess I would have if I saw a few zeroes on what remained of the corners.
It may have been worth my while. But, then again....

One of my charges, the second half of a team of Labradors (like no-one saw THAT coming) came for his residency once he was released from the vet after his obstruction surgery over 3 weeks ago.

His owner was concerned that four days after his surgery, he was allowed to access a squeaky toy and yup, you guessed it; was able to eviscerate the toy and ingest the plastic bladder that makes the noise.

The owner was away at the time of the incident and the pet-sitter who was in charge of the dog dutifully took him to his surgeon over the weekend to x-ray the abdomen and see if they could find it.

They saw a staple from his most recent surgery but it looked like the plastic squeaky bladder was at the mouth of the small intestine and it was anticipated that the plastic bladder would 'pass' without assistance.

The sitter took that as a good-enough-for-her answer and returned the dog to his home.

The owner relayed this story to me when she dropped him off for his training with assurances (to the best of her knowledge) that the dog had in fact, passed the plastic bladder. She could not be positive however, as she was not there the weekend of the incident.

Goat Belly II (GBII) came in on the day his house mate, Goat Belly I, left. That will be 14 days ago tomorrow.

GBII settled in nicely, ate well, relieved himself with great regularity with nice healthy little ploops that you could have used as golf balls; grass free, debris free, money free, tylenol bottle bits free. Honest-to-goodness nice poop.

He settled into the training well, learned to "leave it!" and "out!" as well as the requisite obedience training that occurs here. His bowels remained tight and regular.

That is until Sunday night.

My husband took him out for his last ex of the evening and commented frustratedly on his spirited attempts at eating large clumps of the new grass that dot our landscape. "Leave it", "Out" and "DAMN YOU, STOP IT"!! were unsuccessful. He ended up hauling the dog back to the house, all the while trying to control his sudden voracious appetite for our grass.

I offered him water, put him in his crate and within minutes, he proceeded to demonstrate exactly how far an adult male Lab can spew his dinner across my dining room floor. He was fine otherwise. I cleaned him up, mopped my floor and kept a close eye, but his posture was normal, he was comfortably curled up in his crate, alert and fine. He has passed a normal stool earlier which I made my husband point out for me to scrutinize.

I was concerned, but not alarmed.

Monday morning, our routine remained much the same. I took out the small dogs, fed the breakfast eaters and watered them as they all returned from their morning constitutionals.

GBII had a nonproductive outing (odd, I thought. He always goes in the AM) refused his breakfast (Labs on their death beds still eat) and with only a tiny bit of water made available to him, proceeded to repeat the events of the night before. Resplendent plumes of gritty bile across my hardwood floors, only about 6 feet this time as opposed to the entirety of it's 15 foot length.

I called the owner, I called the vet, we were on our way within 30 minutes.

An exray revealed a vaguely familiar shape in the colon, well on it's way to the rectum.

Finally.

After 18 days, Goat Belly II finally passed his last artifact.

Foreign Bodies and Colorful Poop

I have been getting a rash of desperation calls lately and I recently fielded a call from a potential client with two neutered male dogs aged 2 and 4.

She had previously lost a middle-aged dog to an emergency bowel resection that turned septic and had already experienced a few late-night emergency vet visits with both of her current dogs after they had ingested foreign objects that they were having difficulty 'passing'.

She regaled me with tales of their exploits with 'stealing' and the melee that usually followed pursuing the dogs and wresting the objects from them, or watching in dismay as they sucked socks like kids with their first bowl of spaghetti, consumed a half-pound of rich fudge brownies like a vacuum cleaner consumes a dust bunny and other articles as if they hadn't eaten in ages.

Or worse, growling from under the dining room table as the humans gathered around them in some sort of reenactment of a prehistoric fight for the last piece of edible mammoth meat for miles.

There are a bazillion hazards associated with a dogs' ability to acquire and consume articles not meant for digestion and of their owners trying desperately to reclaim these articles before they are destroyed or consumed.

I cannot count the calls I have received from owners who have lost objects as small as diamond earrings to cell phones, television remote controls, articles of clothing, whole baseballs, golf balls, pocket knives both open and closed, lighters, hats, you-name-it; gobbled whole by their pets in the blink of an eye with the appetites of garbage disposals. I cannot recount the number of owners who have vigilantly observed their dogs bowel movements for signs of the article's return to them and I cannot imagine the number who have waited hopelessly, vainly for the obstruction to pass unassisted.

Unfortunately I DO know the numbers of dogs who have died. I also know the number of dogs who have had the life saving intervention from conscientious veterinarians who open them up and fish out the erstwhile contents of their gullets, stomachs or intestines, patch them up and send them packing; back to their homes and the 'special diets' that await them as they recover from their surgeries.

To turn around and have to do it again. And again. And again. I can count those dogs too.

YouTube is resplendent with comical images of dogs with cone-heads that still manage to acquire articles unfit for canine consumption.

Which leads me to the point of this topic.

There are a lot of places I can start with this; but I'm going to start at the beginning.

• Put your stuff away, as in where the dog can't get it. That includes making your kids be responsible for their own stuff and put it away too.
  
• Supervise the dog appropriately (on a leash, with you, IN THE SAME ROOM AS YOU) so you can prevent him from getting your stuff, or your kids' stuff.
  
• If you cannot supervise your dog, confine him in a crate so he cannot get anything but his own stuff.
• If you are lax in your supervision and forget to confine your dog so he does manage to get your stuff, DON'T RUN AFTER HIM AND WRESTLE HIM TO GET IT BACK! To do so sets you up for any portion of the first part of this article, including the creation of resource guarding and the associated growling and biting and even faster consumption of stuff you would rather not have to fish through poo for in order to get back, or pay exorbitant fees for surgery you probably could have prevented if you paid attention to the first point and/or the second point.
  
• Provide appropriate toys! My rule is: man-made toys (you know, the ones you pay top dollar for made of stuff that your house and it's contents are made of) are considered interactive toys and are to be played with under the supervision and with the cooperation of the owner. This way the dog learns appropriate self control as far as acquisition, possession and relinquishment of toys in a controlled and fun way; gets interaction with his owner and equally important, exercise which will mitigate both attention seeking behavior and the boredom that leads to attention seeking behavior.
• Toys of a more organic nature can be used as pacifier toys and can be enjoyed by the dog either in his crate or during 'quiet times' (under supervision, of course). Pacifier toys are pretty limited to bones. Big bones. Hard-baked are best, the entire shank if possible, knuckle to knuckle. They disintegrate as opposed to splinter, are digestible and offer HOURS of fascination for most dogs. They can be used effectively for crate training and to help avert resource guarding behaviors if the dog is allowed controlled access either in his crate or while at large (under supervision, of course). Bleached shank bones are good too. You can stuff them with stuff. Stuff that you approve of, like peanut butter (out of a jar from a manufacturer that is not affected by the most recent recall) or pate' de foie gras if you want. It's up to you. Not the dog.
• Did I mention adequate exercise? They need to exercise their bodies, they need to exercise their minds. They need this routinely, as in every day, to some degree. For any dogs, young and old alike or any derivatives thereof; a walk around the block once a day or the expectation that he will 'self exercise' if his owners turn him out, unattended, in the back yard is just not going to satisfy the dogs' desire to chase, frolic, run, jump, wrestle, dig or otherwise act like a dog. Leave him to his own devices and he'll find things to do on his own, like strip the siding off your walls, or break teeth chewing the cinder-blocks or bricks that comprise your foundation.

• Not lastly, more like firstly, or anytime you forget any of the other important stuff here, never EVER run your dog down to get something back. You invite disaster. Maybe not that time, or even the next time, but I assure you; you are teaching your dog several important things:
• To defend articles with avoidance, escape or aggression
• To run from the bigger, scarier predator. YOU!
• To hide in the cubby under the bed, chair, couch, corner, closet, crate or anywhere the dog feels he is defensible from at least three sides, so he can consume his prize and drive you off more efficiently
  
• To chew harder and swallow faster so the bigger predator can't get it.

Don't set yourself up for failure by trying to wrest away that sock, or cramming your hand forcibly down a dogs throat after the other half of your sandwich or your kid's iPod. You invite disaster by thinking you will be successful. You may be once or twice, but try calling that dog to you after a few sessions like this and see what happens, or better yet, when you REALLY NEED him to drop something, and you move toward him, watch what happens. It ain't purdy, the things people inadvertently teach their dogs....

They say it is far easier to ask forgiveness than to ask for permission. In the case of dogs who ingest foreign objects, it is far easier to mitigate access and teach them to respond to some basic commands than it is to have to suffer the consequences and often heartbreak of having allowed them unadulterated access to your stuff.