After feeding the dogs tonight I began cleaning the kitchen — wiping down counters and putting dishes in the dishwasher. The news was on TV and I was thinking about tomorrow’s classes at Kindred Spirits. I was multi-tasking, as is normal.
But then something caught my attention. Nothing in particular; just something out of the ordinary. I looked towards the dogs and saw Bashir pawing at his mouth in a panic. He began running and I realized he was in trouble. I called him to me and even in his panic he came. I opened his mouth and saw he was already blue.
I pinned him between my knees as I opened his mouth and reached down his throat. Nothing. I reached under him, grabbed my hands under his upper belly, and lifted sharply. Pop! A chunk of meat came flying out.
He began gasping right away and while trying to gain his breath, reached towards the chunk of meat. Blasted dog. I’m trying to wrap my head around what just happened and he wants to re-eat the meat. I took it away.
Minutes later I realized my good dog almost died. He could have died right then and there. Oh, I couldn’t have handled that. No way; not now; not like that.
Although years ago I was a registered veterinary technician, that was a number of years ago. However, a few years ago we began offering the Red Cross Dog (and also the cat) first aid courses. All of Kindred Spirits’ trainers were the first class.
Today, tonight, I’m glad we did that. I probably would have remembered what to do anyway, but I’m glad I refreshed my skills because it had to have helped me remember what to do.
Bashir is fine. He never lost consciousness and began breathing again without assistance. He’s at my feet now as I write this. Thankfully.
Photo: My good dog, Bashir. By Liz Palika.
