How I saved my dog's life!!

It was a regular Monday. 

After a long day at work, all I wanted to do was eat, feed my dogs and crash. Never did I think it'll be the day I'll put my hands inside the mouth of a dog.

Here's a little backstory, I have two dogs by the names of Skip and Scott. Now skip is the father of Scott, he's one heck of a father. A bully and a coward, he takes out all his frustrations on Scott his son. Whenever I give them food, Skip is always quick to finish his and bully Scott into giving it his food. 

Knowing this, after eating I decided to give my bones to them as a treat. I gave Skip his first, to distract him from eating Scott's bone. As I threw Scott's bone, he rushed at it quickly. This was nothing like Scott because he was usually slow. Perhaps the fear of Skip grabbing his bone made him rush at it quickly. I went back inside to bring their dinner and when I came out I knew something was wrong.

The rescue

First I heard a retching sound, and I noticed Scott wasn't wagging his tail around me in anticipation of his food, only Skip was. Next, I noticed Scott started rolling around on the floor and scratching his gums. He was in fact bleeding and looked like he was in terrible pain. Well, I dropped the food and did what any responsible dog owner would do; I called for help. Screaming and in a panic mood, I called my sister for help. 

We observed that the bone I threw to Scott was lodged way deep in his upper jaw, and we needed to get it out. My heart was beating so fast and I was scared, Scott wasn't making any sound and his breathing was very heavy. My sister covered her hands with cellophane bags and proceeded to try to open his jaw. He knew we wanted to help so he tried to remain calm as I patted his head.

It was obvious the situation was more serious than I thought it was and my sister needed help getting the bone. So I tied my hands in a cellophane bag and channelled my inner Daniel, David and Samson because I needed all the courage I could get. As I held apart Scott's jaw, my sister had to use a knife to get the bone out. I needed to keep him as still as possible so the knife wouldn't injure him.

Thankfully, we got the bone out and after a lot of sighing and soothing Scott went about his way grateful for life. He ate his dinner a very relieved and happy dog. Oh and as for Skip, shockingly he was quite concerned for his son, standing next to us as we were trying to get the bone out. Was it to steal the bone or just to make sure we weren't killing his son, I will never know. After which he gave him very loving licks and proceeded to greedily eat his dinner. What's the moral of the story? You decide!

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