5 years ago we welcomed the cutest little puppy to our family. The boys quickly came up with the name Buster. I know not very original, but hey they liked it so we went with it. For 5 years he's been a great pet. He has always been great with the kids from day one. Taking in all the pulling at his ears, poking in his eyes and even being laid on. I couldn't have asked for a more perfect dog for my crazy clan.
This weekend while camping Buster came upon a fishing pole that was not properly put away. It probably wouldn't have been a big deal except for that small piece of hot dog that was still on the hook that lured him in.
I walked off the pier to find dog vomit on the grass, then saw the fishing pole laying on the ground and the line stretched out. I quickly followed the line to the end, the end where I feared...Buster's mouth. A quick yell to Steve got him by my side to try to open Busters mouth to find the hook, but to my dismay it was already out of site. Steve cut the line to free him from the pole while I quickly got on the phone to find the nearest vet. Mind you we were an hour plus from home and a Saturday morning all I could think was where do I go. We quickly got in touch with my Dad's friend who lives across the lake from our campsite. A boat ride got Buster and I there so he could quickly drive us to the vet. Luckily for us the vet was still open and willing to try to get it out. After an x-ray to verify it was still there, she went to work. Because he was too hyper to sit still she had to put him to sleep.
After 45 minutes of trying she just couldn’t free it up. She called me back to let me see just where it was, right in the back of his throat, but stuck just right and it wouldn’t come out. A quick call to an animal hospital ER had be headed to a new vet an hour away. So once he was awake enough I rushed him to the next vet hoping he could get it out as then last option would be the dreadful surgery.
The next vet felt optimistic that he could get it out, let me tell you I was sure hoping he was going to be right cause the thought of surgery and then unknown cost it was going to be had me worried. So I left our Buster in his care and headed back to the family who were enjoying a beautiful Saturday boating and swimming.
The vet had wanted Buster to spend the night because of the location of the hook and the risk of his throat swelling after all the manipulating he wanted to make sure his breathing would be ok overnight. My ride back to my family had me constantly checking my phone to see if I had missed his call.
Finally an hour after I had left him in this strangers hands he called to tell me the wonderful news that he had gotten it out! PHEW a huge sigh of relief. Buster did great and his breathing was doing fine. The kids too, after constant questions and asking if he was going to be ok were excited to hear he was just fine.
We picked him up Sunday on our way back home and as soon as he saw me he was back to his hyper little old self. I carried him back to the truck with the waiting kids and they all welcomed him back with love. And of course the questions again…“Mom is he going to be ok?”
Looking back at the whole event it has opened my eyes to how much this dog is really not just a dog, but really like another one of my kids. That morning when the event first unfolded I found myself telling the kids he may not be back because if he needed surgery I wasn’t sure we could afford it. I know that sounds awful, but at that moment he was just a dog to me. Once I got to the first vet and I saw the hook right in grasps reach I knew no matter what it cost I wasn’t going home without him!
So welcome back Little Buster, we love you! Now next time, just ask for the hot dog, don’t try being a fish!
