Please join me at my new web home JessieGunderson.com and don’t forget to like the Blog Schmog Facebook community HERE.
I had hoped to report to you that wrestling a Coonhound that is twice your size does- in fact- induce labor but it has been nearly 16 hrs since the event and I’m still with child. Or at least I was when I wrote this post. None-the-less, you might enjoy my adventure.
Why, might I ask, do these things ALWAYS happen when I’m very pregnant?
Here she is, “hiding” before her home surgery. Poor girl, really thinks I can’t see her. Insert the dopiest voice you can conjure up, “If I don’t look du’ humans in the eye they’ll never find me.”
I spotted her limping and discovered a small bone or quill stuck out from the pad of one of her toes. I grabbed a pair of tweezers and two strapping–er’ I mean scrawny little boys–to help me. I had Scarfunkle and Captain Obvious each hold a leg while I sat on the third leg (10 mo pregnant, mind you) and grasped the offending foot.
One little tweeze and that big ol’ hound was bucking and twisting. She sent Captain flying one direction and Scarfunkle plopped down the other, while I hung on for dear life. “Just…let…me…HOLD STILL WILLAMINA!” Then, just like those strange water wiggler toys grandma had at her house when I was a kid, that loose skinned hound slipped out from under me and I too took a ride. The three of us lay on the floor and Willamina hurried back to her “hiding” place. After several attempts we realized weren’t going to be able to do a darn thing so I sent her back out to wait for Matt. I hoped the snow would numb it some and keep any swelling down.
Of course I forgot all about it until we’d loaded the kids in the car to head to evening church. Matt went to put the dogs in their kennel and suddenly my memory jarred. Oops! Upon inspection we knew it couldn’t wait. The swelling had begun and the foreign object was now flush with the pad of her foot.
Hubby got the needle nose pliers. I got the scissors and tweezers. Scarfunkle grabbed a bag of ice and Captain Obvious tried to subdue the other restless Thinglets buckled in their car seats.
Surgery began and oh boy did she protest.
We sent Scarfunkle out to the car with a message, “Pray boys, pray!”
Let me tell you, there ain’t no more offensive odor than a stressed out hound dog! She excreted her stench and whimpered when Matt sat on her head. One hundred sixty + lbs of dog is something to be reckoned with especially one as wimpy as she is! She wanted nothing to do with our toe saving adventure and she let us know it. I sat on the rear half of her while Matt restrained the front half and I went to work.
Ten minutes on ice gave me just barely enough numb to cut around the thorn or bone or whatever it was. The prayers of three little boys were answered when in one tug I was able to get the darn thing out. It was a good inch long and stuck straight in. Poor girl!
We needed a bath. No time for that. I feel sorry for the people who sat next to us in church. Even a change of clothes and three or four hand washings couldn’t eliminate the stench she let off. Gotta love a hound dog!