(Caution: This Post Is Meant For The Hard Core Dog Lover. Everyone else with any taste should proceed with a bit of caution.)
I think you haven’t really lived until you have pulled a 10 inch string of floss out of the butt of a Boston Terrier dancing on ice at the tail end of a major snowstorm in upstate New York when the temperature is 8 degrees, snow and ice are swirling through the air, and human and dog are both slipping and skidding on ice.
This was my happy fate this morning when I took Gus out in the dark, he was sleeping on our bed and curled up against Maria and he seemed restless to me, so, taking no chances with the King of Vomit, I went outside with him.
Honestly, I am okay with winter, but some February nights are just hellish, a high wind was driving ice pellets right into my face, and Gus was not happy to go out either, but I was right, he did have to eliminate, he peed like a racehorse and then squatted and squirmed.
Gus is a business- like eliminator and usually there are no troubles or delays.
But my heart sank when he started straining and I saw something come out, but hang in the air. This is a familiar and dread sight to dog lovers everywhere, by now, you veterans of the Butt Pull know where this going.
My fingers and toes were turning purple, I’d come out into the storm in a think nightshirt and slippers, Gus usually does his business quickly and efficiently and runs back to the house. Not this morning, He simply squatted and strained, nothing was going anywhere.
I waited a minute or two and cursed the Gods, and then took my gloves off and leaned down in the snow. I had to get down on my knees on the ice, and I will only say it was an enervating experience. Gus was nervous as I reached down there, but he is an affable and accepting dog, I got hold of what I thought was a thread and pulled. And pulled. And pulled.
If it wasn’t so gross, it could have been a clown act in the circus. About ten inches later, it came out, along with all of the things attached to it. Gus is a megaesophagus dog, and this was not something that should have been in his stomach.
Further investigation revealed it was a string of floss, Gus goes into the bathroom periodically and looks in the wastebasket and we caught him eating tooth floss before. He was startled when I first reached down there and pulled, but relieved when it was over.
I maneuvered back on my feet, holding one hand up in the air, picking up the glove and scooper with the other. I dropped the gloves, of course, and the scooper and then fell on both of them. I got into the kitchen and cleaned everything off.
Dog and human are humbled, but well. I got into bed, freezing and shivering, and my very beloved wife said, “don’t you dare touch me with those hands!” If only she knew, she probably wouldn’t have let me into bed at all.
The true dog lover is familiar with this ritual, especially with Labs and Boston Terriers they will eat anything. No border would lower himself to eating floss, it doesn’t even look like food. I took a photo of the floss but even I didn’t have the heart to post it.
This is just something you have to when your dog needs you. Only you can jelp.
The true dog lover will understand. The novice and the summer soldier will be grossed out.