11 PM Goodie (my 5 year old female black standard poodle) starts jerking her head forward ever so slightly every 10 minutes or so as if she wants to regurgitate – but doesn’t. Yes, I tried the Heimlich (yes, there is Heimlich for dogs) and nothing dislodged. Still the movement was slight and since she ate a little piece of a soft C-O-O-K-I-E, I thought it would go away which it did for awhile.
Then as we retired for the evening, Goodie who, per her habit, once she once she hits the bed (always the middle still – having to be cajoled to my left side) curls and keeps her head down.
Her head was up as if she didn’t want to put it down.
Now it’s not that I’m an overly protective guardian.
Okay, all right, being Jewish, overly protective by nature (okay, all right genetic) – so I take that back.
So by 2-3 am – I’m off to the emergency room
If you love me, you spend money on me
A verbatim direct quote from a former insignificant other (Baruch Hashem)
Now Max Mossad (my black standard poodle of blessed memory as the Rabbis would say) would have his incidents but they were never ever during regular veterinary hours.
It seemed his incidents were always on a weekend after hours to the emergency room – which, of course, costs significantly more than a regular vet visit.
I would ask Max, if this ‘coincidence’ was just to prove to him ‘if I spend money on him, I love him?’
He wag his tail – kiss me – and look at me as if, ‘first, your are an overly protective Jewish dogfather, and secondly, yes, Bucko!’
And so, of course, as Goodie and I were in the ER room – the lurching of the head completely stopped. The ER vet did a thorough exam testing to see if anything would dislodge as well as examining for any other cause.
Nothing, nada, zero.
Arriving home, retiring once more now 3:30 am on Shabbat (yes, when it comes to my dogs health – and per Her Royal Highness’ Schwartzcare Plan – I broke Shabbat – and yes have, did or would do it again. Per Judaic thought ‘life come first’ even if involved is the over reaction of an overly protective (my Jewish genes made me do it – my excuse) eesh evid (Dog Servant).
Goodie curled head down – without looking at me – though I did catch an askance look when turned around as if she was saying, ‘he loves me, he spends money (retail plus) on me.’
And my Max Mossad, of beloved memory, must be thinking ‘the torch & cash flow has been passed.’