Banisters and Bones

When I was a kid, I remember going to some kind of electronics store, like a Radio Shack, and wandering around while my parents were looking for a new radio or something. Part of this little store had an area that was a couple of steps up and was divided from the rest of the store by a little wrought iron banister (early 70's decor). For some reason, my little 8 year old mind thought it would be a neat idea to stick my head through the bars of this railing. My head went right between the bars but coming back out wasn't so easy. I tried to pull my head out before my parents, or worse, my brother looked over and saw my predicament. Panic set in and I started crying. My family, the sales guy, other shoppers, all came over to see what a stupid, stupid thing I had done. Then I remember my mom looking at me and going through
The 3 Stages of "I-Can't-Believe-You-Did-That!"

Stage 1 is Concern....my daughter's head is stuck, she's crying, is she hurt? Then when she saw I wasn't really hurt, she quickly (maybe a little too quickly) entered....
Stage 2: Amusement. I can't believe she did something so stupid. Why, oh why, don't I have a camera with me so I can taunt her with this for the rest of her life. She's got her head stuck in a banister, for Pete's sake! Wait till the neighbors hear about this!
Then comes Stage 3: Annoyance. The timing and severity of stage 3 is directly proportional to either a) the amount of time is being wasted on such nonsense or b) the amount of money that is being wasted on such nonsense.
Happy to say, between my dad and the sales guy, I was able to get my head out and, other than giving my brother a lifetime of "big head" jokes, I wasn't harmed.

Which brings me to my latest Jake story. Since it's summer, Jake gets his morning walk whenever Jeff or I get up, wake up a bit, maybe have some breakfast, etc. Yesterday as I was reading the paper and taking my time, Jake had a sad sack look on his face that I thought meant he wanted to go for a walk. I asked him if he wanted to go but he just looked at me and drooled a bit. Ok, he's not really a drooler so that was a little weird. Jake has some bones that he chews on. I had read it was a really good idea to get the round beef bones that have been cooked and still have the marrow in them for dogs to chew. They chew out the marrow, leaving a hallow center and you can put peanut butter in the middle for a nice little treat. So all around the house, we have these round donut shaped bones that he likes to chew on. Somehow, he managed to get a bone over his bottom jaw. I can only describe it as slipping a small ring onto a fat finger. It was pushed back over his back teeth and his tongue was stuck underneath it. How? I have no idea.

Jeff and I saw his problem and I tried to pull it off, thinking it would come off right away. Anytime I touched the bone, Jake went nuts. At one point, he ran up the stairs, behind the recliner and was trying to climb the wall....literally. Jeff and I tried to pin him down and pull it off but he yelped and scratched and the bone wouldn't budge. At this point, I was in Stage 1. I was so worried about my little pup. I called our Wonderful Vet and they said to bring him right in.

By the time I got to the vet's office, I was in Stage 2. As we walked into his office, the absurdity of our situation hit me. I was walking into the waiting room with a dog that had a bone stuck over his lower jaw. Why didn't I take a picture of him before we left the house?! Knowing I was around animal lovers in the office and waiting room I tried to look like I was concerned (stage 1) but I just couldn't help it and started laughing when I got to the desk. One lady in the waiting room took a look at him and said, "I think he better go in next". Yup, he was that pitiful looking. Jake's Wonderful Vet had me bring him right in and put him on the exam table. He had me hold his head while he injected him and then said, "Hold him, he'll start falling over". About 5 seconds later, Jake just kind of fell sideways and was out. Again, I thought this was all very funny. Wonderful Vet took what looked like bolt cutters and wedged it between the bone and his jaw and snapped the bone right off. Poor Jake had a cut up tongue and lips but was really no worse for the wear. Wonderful Vet said this wasn't the first time he had seen this, which in an odd way, made me feel better.

Stage 3 hit me when I realized Jake was going to have to stay in the office and sleep off the anesthesia and I would have to go back later in the afternoon to pick him up. Not exactly how I planned to spend a Monday but that was ok. I just wanted him to be ok so stage 3 didn't last too long.

I got Jake home in the afternoon and he slept most of the day. Today he's fine and playful like usual. And all the bones are in the trash.