Most Expensive Thanksgiving Ever

This year, like most years, Chris, Rosie and I went down to North Carolina for the week of Thanksgiving. This year, after a two-day stop in the western part of the state to visit my aunt and uncle, we drove to Charlotte on Tuesday to spend the rest of the week with Chris' parents, his sister and their German Shepherd, Barron.

After running around with Barron at the dog park, then returning to the house to chase the family cat around, Rosie — initially unbeknownst to us — got into Barron's food. Baron eats a mix of wet and dry food, which is much tastier than the plain dry mix we give Rosie. So, Rosie went to town, gobbling it up, then practically drank her weight in water.

These three factors combined — exercise, gulping down food and extreme water consumption — can lead to a condition in dogs called bloat. When a dog has bloat, the dog's stomach twists on its axis. Meanwhile, the stomach produces a ton of gas, which can't escape because of the twisted tummy (basically, the two normal means of gas escape — burping and farting — are blocked). As a result, the dog's stomach begins to expand, eventually compressing and cutting off circulation to the dog's lungs, spleen and other vital doggie innards. Ultimately, it can lead to death, often in just a few hours.

Dogs with large barrel chests, like Rottweilers, are prone to bloat, and luckily, Chris' mom had warned us about the condition years ago. So, when later that evening, Rosie repeatedly attempted to vomit without success, we were immediately concerned. Soon after, we noticed that her belly expanded larger than we'd ever seen. It seriously looked like she had swallowed a football sideways, or an entire basketball. At that point, we panicked. We immediately lifted Rosie into Chris' parents' SUV (Rosie had lost the ability to stand by this point) and Chris' mom drove us to the emergency vet hospital.

I can't even begin to describe how horrible that car ride was. Rosie's breathing slowed and she kept trying to put her head down. We were losing her. Chris and I kept holding her head up, forcing her stick with us. We were both sobbing while trying to keep her awake. There were times that the length between her breaths was so long, we thought she had already died.

We had some trouble finding the hospital, and at one point, drove up to an adjacent animal clinic, only to find it closed. Once again, we thought Rosie was gone. But eventually, we found the hospital, and the staff quickly wheeled her in on a doggie gurney.

After all this panic and running around, we had to wait for hours in the waiting room while the staff first inserted a tube down Rosie's throat to relive the pressure, then performed surgery on Rosie's stomach to twist it back into position. They also stapled her stomach to the inside of her abdominal wall to prevent it from twisting again.

In the end, she survived. She had to stay at the hospital overnight and most of the next day for observation, but she was able to come back to Chris' parents' house the following night, where I pretty much didn't let her out of my sights for one second. Chris and I even took turns sleeping on the floor next her that first night.

Amazingly, Rosie has since bounced back to almost normal. We were able to drive her back home yesterday, just four days after her surgery. We're supposed to keep her relatively calm for the next two weeks, and since her surgery, she's been a teensy bit slower and sleepier than normal. But by and large, she's recovering much better than I would if I had just been cut open and had my insides rearranged.

In fact, what seems to be bothering Rosie most now is a bit of razor burn. She looks pretty punk with her lower half all shaved and a giant scar along her belly. You can check it out in the video below. But be warned, there's some full-on doggie groin in this video, which, depending on your place of employment, may or may not be safe for work.


Rosie's surgery scar from Sarah Wunder on Vimeo.