01/20/2010Jeter recuperates in the hallway after being treated for eating chocolate.
Nighttime chocolate feast leads to salt water assault
By TAMMY MALGESINI
East Oregonian
He was sicker than a dog.
It all started when Jeter, my German shepherd, decided to get into my cache of chocolate. It ended with him laying with a forlorn look on his face in the hallway at home. Between those two snapshots in time was an adventure I don't want to repeat any time soon.
After getting off work just in time, John and I went to the Umatilla Vikings basketball game, even though I hadn't eaten dinner yet.
By the time we got home, I was very tired and quite hungry. I had just settled onto my daybed with what apparently was a very tasty Healthy Choice roasted turkey breast dinner. After I had eaten a couple of bites, John came upstairs to ask me something.
As he walked into the doorway, Jeter jumped off our bed from the adjacent room wearing a sheepish look on his face. Jeter sleeps on the bed, so it's not unusual for him to lounge around on the waterbed; however, the look on his face said "I've been a bad dog."
When we discovered he had eaten a bunch of Hershey's Kisses and chocolate Santas, tin foil and all, John and I sprung into action. After calling the after-hours number for Oregon Trail Veterinary Clinic, the doggie doc said we could bring him in or try to induce vomiting ourselves.
I headed to Walmart to find some syrup of ipecac. I figured it would be easier to get a little of that down him, rather than a whole lot of salt water.
I started to panic when I couldn't find the spew syrup - the window of opportunity to get the pooch to puke was closing in and I really didn't want to pony up the extra cash to take him to the vet clinic at that late hour.
While frantically searching the aisles, I called Shawn Carvalho. Since she was asleep, I asked her husband if they had any syrup of ipecac - explaining it's used to make people throw up.
They didn't, however, within moments Shawn called me back. I told her what was going on as I continued to search for the elusive elixir.
Hearing the panic in my voice, she stayed on the phone with me - even as I headed to Fiesta Foods.
When a store employee offered assistance, rather than risking a language barrier or unfamiliarity with ipecac, I asked for Pepto Bismol. I figured if I got to the right aisle, I could find it. When she led me directly to the pink stuff, I told her I didn't need it. I could hear Shawn laughing over the phone as I explained what I really needed.
She said they didn't have it, but rather than giving up, I attempted to read the labels. Meanwhile, Shawn had gone to an English-Spanish translation Web site and helped me decipher items on the shelf. After finally determining my quest for ipecac was fruitless, I bought a large container of salt and drove home.
John mixed some up and I proceeded to suck the solution into a bulb syringe and squeezed it into Jeter's mouth.
After several cups worth he coughed and sputtered and produced a very small amount of vomit.
That would never do.
After adding more salt, I continued to assault my dog with the briney solution. All of a sudden he broke lose from John's grasp, took a few steps and hurled a pile. He took a few more steps and barfed again.
With a headlamp shining from his forehead, John followed the heaving hound around the yard - picking up the puke so Jeter or Lucifer, our German shepherd puppy, wouldn't eat it later.
The salt water was so successful, John couldn't keep up. I followed Jeter around the lawn, tossing a paper towel on each pile. When John started to gag, he reminded me Jeter was my dog, so I took over pick-up duty.
As I continued puke patrol, I soon discovered chunks of turkey, stuffing and carrots intermixed with the chocolate and tin foil wrappers - evidently the chocolate was merely an appetizer.
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Tammy Malgesini is the EO community editor. Her column, Inside my shoes, appears twice a month. You can reach her at tmalgesini@eastoregonian.com or 541-564-4539.
