Oh Frank. How can such a small, wee, nostril get into so much trouble?
The last two weeks have indeed been full of visits.
The first visit, of course, involved the grass pictured in the last post. Oh Frank. While on a walk almost 2 weeks ago now, Frank wandered through a few blades of rather dry looking grass. I didn't think much about this until one of the blades exploded sending its demon sporlings - or whatever they are actually called - flying about. The next thing I knew Frank was shaking his head, drooling, and making alarming noises that I can't even begin to describe. One of the wretched things had started up his nose. I immediately grabbed it and pulled, not realizing how sharp the barbs were, before it could disappear, but the poor Frank screamed, pulled back, and snorted all at the same time, and there it went.
It was bad. Horrible actually. After a frantic call to the vet's office, which was closing, and about 10 minutes of drooling and trying to clear his nose desperately, Frank calmed down to pretty near normal. His dad and I decided that maybe we were over reacting and that the grass would simply be swallowed. (I am sad to say that I was inspired by the memory of a lively demonstration by a fellow actor in graduate school snorting a noodle up his nose only to have it appear in his mouth. Well, we all find hope where we can in a time of crisis.) This was a bad, bad call. The next day the grass was still there, which resulted in Visit Number 1, to our very frequently called upon veterinarian.
When we arrived we were told that there was no way that the grass was coming out on its own. And then I had to leave Frank there. To be put under for the grass to be fished out. Oh Frank. My poor,
wonderful veterinarian who I adore and his delightful, wonderful staff, had to spend their lunch hour fishing about in a small black pug nose. Good times I'm sure.
When I picked him up that night the demon spore was gone, but the oh so bedraggled pug was as drugged as can be, his tail had nary a curl and was limp as a noodle. I thought of taking a picture, but no one likes a picture of themselves when they are so sad and under the weather.
The good news is that it seems that all of the grass was retrieved. Also, I now have 2 delightful lessons to pass on:
1) Stay out of brown grass with your dog.
2)Even though everyone makes fun of you, it is best to assume, when you own a pug, that you are NOT overreacting. Ever. They are not so hearty, and yes, you should take them to the vet. Probably right now.
AND, in further good news, at 10:oo that night guess who arrived for a bonus visit?
Here's a clue:
Note the lack of grass demon up the very long nose....
The next several visits, which will have to be highlighted over the next several days, were of a much happier nature and include a visit to our MOST delightful veterinary ophthalmologist as WELL as the perfectly timed arrival of the guest pictured above.
Perhaps that is because this is supposed to be a sunny summer day, and instead it rather looks like rain as it has, it must be pointed out, for the last 3 weeks. Frank does NOT enjoy when there is no summer AT ALL!
Oh Frank. That is not at all the stance of a hearty water dog....
(Here we see him hoping that an oyster cracker might float by.)
Oh Frank, no one enjoys a Mama's boy.
