The Most Expensive Cheap Blanket Ever.

This past weekend was just incredible. Not really in a good way, but not completely devastating either. More just in a "did all of that stuff really happen or was it a dream?" way. It was the kind of weekend where you sit back afterward and don't moan about everything that happened; instead you just say, "I'm glad that's over and I made it through... even if it was by the skin of my teeth." And, in her usual fashion, Brugge was an integral piece. She set the events of Friday and Saturday in motion.

She looks so innocent when she's sleeping.

Steven and his brother went out of town Friday afternoon to visit his dad in Tennessee for Father's Day weekend. He had been out of town when I first found TWill, so I figured a weekend alone with the dogs would be doable... maybe even "no big deal." Famous last words. Friday was nonstop. As you may have read, I was dealing with a piddle accident on a dog bed. I had also dropped Steven off at work so Eric, his brother, could pick him up from there and head out. Add to that regular dog duties and job hunting, and I had a busy day before even heading over to Phydeaux. I put the boys in their "room" (the guest bathroom), Brugge in her crate (because she still can't be trusted without a level 8 to 10 dog-proofing sweep of the house, which I did not have time for on this particular day) and headed out to meet Jessica at Phydeaux. We had both gotten 10% off coupons for participating in the SPCA of Wake County K9 3K Dog Walk earlier in the Spring, and Jess still had hers to use.

We perused everything from toys to bowls to beds to collars and leashes to toys again and finally to treats. Mickey and Florence (her two dogs... Mick is her permanent dog, and Flo is the foster that betting people would put good money on being a Foster Failure) made out like bandits. If you're a dog owner, you know the thrill of buying dog stuff. It's possibly even more intoxicating than buying kid stuff, but then again, I don't have a human kid yet. Jessica's and Eric's friend (and Eric's coworker), Charlotte had met us there too. Jess and I love introducing people to Phydeaux. It's right up there on my list of Most Fun Stores Ever, along with Target and Ikea.

Anyway, we were all going to go to dinner after, but Jess got called into work. We made plans to meet up after she got off for frozen yogurt, and Charlotte and I ate together and had a great time. Then I ran home to feed and walk "the zoo," as I call them. I was in a hurry since that whole process can take some time, but after the walk and getting everyone's food (and meds, in the case of Brugge) ready, I paused to watch them eat. I separate all the dogs, but I still supervise to make sure they all give each other space to enjoy their food.

I looked down at Brugge and noticed her stomach looked a little big. Wait, no, it kind of looked really big, but in a subtle way. Subtle enough that Steven wouldn't probably have noticed, but I certainly did. And it looked bigger on her left side than her right. I felt her stomach, and she shrank up a little as I did so, which I had learned during a bout of gastritis was a sign of pain or discomfort. She also burped when I prodded at her, which seemed to make the extra bubble on the left go down a little. "Oh no... could this be bloat?" Bloat, which can also be called (gastric) torsion or gastric dilatation-volvulus, is a life-threatening condition where the stomach fills with gas. In most cases with dogs, it is not just gastric torsion (a belly full of gas), but also gastric dilatation-volvulus, where the stomach twists as well, preventing gas from escaping. Surgery is often required, and there prognosis for a dog suffering from bloat is not usually good, but is better the quicker you catch it.

No one is certain what causes bloat, but risk factors include being a deep-chested, large breed, playing or other vigorous exercise just before or after a meal, eating only one meal a day, eating a small kibble size, and eating too quickly. Brugge is a Doberman mix, we think tempered with Lab, and Dobies are a deep-chested breed. Fortunately, Brugge's chest is deeper than usual, but not so deep as a true Dobe, so there is less risk.  Feeding meals from a puzzle toy can be a great way to curb bloat because it forces the dog to slow down (and it's good a good form of stimulation to boot, but that's a topic for another time), but I didn't have time at this particular meal. Brugge is usually a moderately paced eater. She eats all her food right away, but doesn't really inhale it. However, with the fosters around she has taken to gobbling up her food and running to watch them eat so she can lick their bowls when they're done.

Would you say that's the face of a troublemaker?

I called my standby emergency vet's office like I have seemingly hundreds of times before (including the time where she ate half of a discount club case of Clif bars where they taught me how to induce vomiting three days after we adopted her). They have usually just allayed my fears and never suggested that I bring her in unless I really wanted to. This time was different. When I explained the situation to the receptionist, she said to definitely watch her, but if it were her own dog, she would bring her in to be safe.

I was already sleep-deprived, and I seem to have been hemorrhaging money on dogs lately, so I decided first to bring Brugge to Jessica's house. She happens to live in a neighborhood literally across the street from a different 24-hour vet clinic. She also knows what Brugge looks like usually, and I trusted her to give me an accurate second opinion about Brugge's looks. Brugge was still acting completely normal (goofy, playful, had pooped normally and eaten all of her dinner with the usual gusto), or I would have brought her to the emergency clinic immediately.

When I arrived, Jessica and I let the dogs play a little (it had been well over 30 minutes since Brugge had eaten... more like an hour and a half) and took them for a walk. Brugge pooped again, but as we looked at her she definitely seemed bigger than usual, and that bubble on the left was still there, possibly even bigger than before. I called the emergency vet there and they asked me a series of questions and told me I better bring her in. Jessica, who is awesome, in case I neglected to mention that earlier, went with us. They took Brugge in the back, and we nervously waited for the doctor to come in.

When the doctor came in he introduced himself quickly but genially, and then he sat down, looked me straight in the eyes, and asked "I need to know, what has she eaten? What do you feed her? Did she get into something?" Somehow taken aback, I stutter out that she's had exactly 1 cup of food, twice that day (I ALWAYS measure), 4 mini dog biscuits, and a little bit of rawhide just recently at Jessica's when she commandeered one of Mickey's bones. Sometimes being anal retentive has its advantages. "Well, I ask because her stomach is completely full. I did an X-ray because the first thing I thought of was gastric dilatation-volvulus, but it turned out that the distention you're seeing is because she is just so full." Jessica and I looked at each other, shocked. I rummaged around in my brain for anything she possibly could have eaten. I explained that I watch her like an infant because I know her potential to get into things. The vet said he would give her something to induce vomiting, and be back in a minute. He paused, "...Would you like to see what comes up?" I nodded vigorously before realizing that it was little weird to be that enthusiastic. Oh well, it's what happens when yucky stuff never really bothered you to begin with, plus you have a dog that's had intermittent stomach problems from the get go.

After the doctor walked out, Jessica and I theorized about the cause of Brugge's predicament. Did she eat kitty litter at Jess' house? No. Dog or cat food? no. We came up with nothing. The doctor returned with a dog bowl lined with a trash bag in one had, and a tongue depressor in the other. Everything looked normal at first... there was just a lot of it. Dog food, a wee bit of grass, the rawhide, what I thought was a calf ear... Then we spotted it. A triangular strip of fabric, 2.5" by 1" at its biggest. I recognized it immediately. "That's the corner of one of the fosters' blankets!" Sneaky Brugge just loved fleece as a puppy and tried to eat it, but I thought she had outgrown it. Then, when the fosters and their $3 blankets from Big Lots I got for them came along, her old habits resurfaced. I had caught her chewing on it earlier and taken it away immediately, the gnawed off portion escaping my notice.

Tim's best Zoolander impression in front of the offending blanket.

The vet went on to explain was that the wee bit of blanket had likely been blocking her stomach from emptying. He said it was a good thing I had noticed her problem, because had it gone on much longer she could have had a full-on obstruction, or the liquid could have drained from her stomach, causing the remaining contents to solidify into a brick. Both other outcomes would have required major surgery. The doctor gave me a special food for the next day in case her stomach was still upset and also a few pills to calm things back down, along with a list of anything to look out for, but he was optimistic that there was just one offending piece, and she was good as new. He repeated, "You really DO have to watch her like an infant, don't you?" in both a light-hearted and sympathetic manner. At least he wasn't judging me! I love it when a vet understands dogs can be crafty.

At checkout it dawned on me. The calf's ear. The blanket. I had taken the blanket away the day before. I had given Brugge the calf's ear the day before too. That's why there was SO much in her stomach! It had been accumulating for at least a day and a half! Good grief. I paid my $300 vet bill and headed out. And that, my friends, is the story of how a $3 fleece blanket from Big Lots ended up costing me $303. Hopefully Brugge's health insurance will cover it. I invested in it the day after she ran face-first into a picnic table and split a good chunk of skin right under her eye open. That dog just loves to keep me on my toes!