Her Blanket is Missing 

D. E. Larsen, DVM

I rolled over and looked at the clock; it was one thirty. Then the phone rang again. Yesterday had been a hectic day. I was tempted to let the phone ring, but Sandy elbowed me in the ribs.

“Hello, this is Dr. Larsen,” I said into the phone.

“I’m so sorry to wake you up, Doc,” the female voice answered. “This is Barbara, and Sierra’s blanket is missing.”

Barbara was a good client and a breeder of registered Malamutes. Most months, she visited the clinic several times, and it was unlike her to call about a simple problem.

“Barbara, you called because you can’t find Sierra’s blanket?” I asked.

“It’s gone, Doctor,” Barbara said, close to tears. “I know you think I am crazy, but the whole thing is gone. She has been in her kennel, and I think she ate it.”

“When do you think this happened?” I asked.

“I woke up just now because Sierra was gagging and making some terrible sounds,” Barbara said. “She is really distressed, and her blanket is missing. There is no way the blanket could get out of the kennel. She had to have eaten it.”

“If that happened, I probably should check her,” I said.

“Oh, thank you, Doc,” Barbara said. “She is so distressed. I don’t think it would wait till morning.”

“It will take me at least a half hour to get to the clinic,” I said. “I was sound asleep.”

“I’m so sorry, Doc,” Barbara said.

“That’s okay, I wasn’t going to come to help you look for a blanket, but if it is a medical emergency, that is just part of this job,” I said.

I got up and pulled on my clothes.

“Are you going be alright with this alone?” Sandy asked as she rolled over.

“I guess it will be Barbara and me,” I said. “We can’t drag the kids to the clinic on a school night at this hour, and Judy and Dixie are in the same boat. Hopefully, it won’t be something that requires surgery.”

Barbara and Sierra were waiting at the clinic when I pulled up.

Sierra was standing at the door and gagging and trying to vomit. The noise she was making was loud, almost a bark.

“That doesn’t sound good,” I said as I unlocked the door.

“She has been doing that constantly since she woke me up,” Barbara said.

I did a quick exam on Sierra. Everything was okay except for some abdominal distress when I palpated her belly.

“Make yourself comfortable, Barbara,” I said. “I am going to get a couple of x-rays of Sierra’s abdomen just to make sure something is in there.”

As soon as the x-rays were developed, I held them up to the viewer. Her stomach was stuffed with what we could assume was her blanket. The thing that was most concerning was a lot of content was making its way down the small intestinal tract. Fabric in the small intestines can result in a string effect where the gut accordions up on the string, which can wear through the gut wall in multiple locations.

“Barbara, it looks like the blanket is in her stomach,” I said. “The most disturbing thing is it has started down the small intestines. We should plan an exploratory surgery and get things out of there.”

“Can you do that tonight, Doctor?”

“It would be better to wait until morning when I have help,” I said. “But the problem is the longer we wait, the greater the potential for major intestinal injury. I have seen string foreign bodies that were fatal events.”

“If you can do it tonight, that would be great,” Barbara said. “I am no medical person, but I could help as much as possible.”

“There is a risk for me to do this surgery alone,” I said. “I am going to be opening the gut, maybe in a couple of places, and there will be a risk of contamination.”

“And you said there is a risk if we wait until morning,” Barbara said. “I elect to assume the risk tonight.”

With that settled, I had Barbara help me get Sierra on the surgery table and under anesthesia. I set up the surgery for the worst-case scenario, laying out several sets of gloves, multiple suture packs, and an extra surgery pack for closure.

I gave Barbara a two-minute lesson on sterile technique, showing her how to open suture packs and gloves. Then I got started with the surgery.

I made a long incision on the ventral midline and opened the abdomen. Sierra’s stomach was stuffed full with the blanket.

After securing the stomach and packing it off with lap pads, I opened it with a small incision. Then I started teasing the blanket out of the incision.

How stupid was this dog to eat the whole thing? The blanket just kept coming. Sometimes in pieces, sometimes in long strips. After removing most of the blanket from the stomach, I could see some blanket was still in the esophagus. Luckily, I could pull it into the stomach and remove it. The bad luck was the blanket pieces were starting into the small intestine. I was able to retrieve some of it, but I would have to open the intestines to get the rest. 

After closing the stomach incision, I started exploring down the small intestine. It was stuffed with content for a considerable distance. 

I picked a midpoint and hoped I could get all of the blanket out with one incision. 

“I am going to have to open the intestines to get the rest of the blanket out,” I said to Barbara, sitting in a chair in the corner of the surgery room. “The problem is every time I open the gut, it increases the chances of contamination of the abdomen and the incision. Those chances are increased with me working alone. But we can’t leave this stuff in there.”

“I am amazed that she ate all of that,” Barbara said. 

“It’s probably good that we are doing this surgery tonight,” I said. “By morning, she would have had this blanket most of the way down her gut.”

I isolated the selected loop of the bowel and opened it with a one-inch incision. I started pulling blanket material from the incision. It was easy to pull the fabric down through the incision from the upper portions of the intestine, but I had difficulty removing the material from the lower portions of the gut. When I had pulled all that I could from this incision, there was still blanket content lower in the tract.

From the second incision in the gut, I got the rest of the blanket. I was careful to flush the incisions and ensure everything was out of the gut. I instilled some saline and gentamicin into the abdomen before closing the incision.

After giving Sierra a dose of IV antibiotics, we recovered her in a kennel without a blanket. She was comfortable on recovery and not showing any of the distress that was apparent when she came to the clinic.

“I think she will be fine here for the rest of the night,” I said. “I need to check her over in the morning before sending her home.”

“When should I check with you in the morning?” Barbara asked.

“Not too early,” I said. “I might not be here at opening time, and I need some time to check that incision before sending Sierra home. We are going to have to keep a close eye on her incision. Plus, we need to give her some fluids again in the morning, and we will need to have her on nothing by mouth until the following morning. Then we can give her liquids for a few days before starting a soft diet.”

Sierra was feeling well by the time Barbara came to pick her up. I cautioned Barbara to watch the incision closely and lined out the diet and antibiotics regimen more time.

***

Only three days later, Barbara was back at the clinic with Sierra.

“I was worried about being a nuisance,” Barbara said. “But the incision is starting to weep some fluid at the upper end this morning.”

“You are not a nuisance, Barbara,” I said. “This is what you are supposed to do. We need to correct this incision now. It would be breaking open tomorrow had you not brought her in today.”

We went back to surgery with Sierra. I opened the incision. The first few sutures of the incision were starting to break down. I removed all the sutures and derided the infected areas. Then I closed the incision with stainless steel sutures. 

I kicked myself out of having the forethought to use stainless steel in the initial closure. All the newer suture material will break down in an infected closure, but stainless steel will not allow dehiscence.

Sierra healed well after that, and Barbara was both thankful and apologetic every time she saw me for many weeks following Sierra’s recovery. She also changed to using commercial kennel mats instead of blankets.

Photo by Mark Sc on Pexels.

The Camping Trip that Wasn’t, From the Archives

D. E. Larsen, DVM

I stood up to peddle harder as the last half mile was steeper. I wished I had one of those new bicycles with gears to shift. When the advertisement said you sell to your neighbors, they didn’t remind you that your neighbors were two miles away, uphill.

At 12 years of age, I had embarked on my first venture as a salesperson. Lured by a flashy magazine ad, I was going to sell garden seeds and earn enough to purchase a pup tent. It sounded simple, I had a few neighbors, and they all had large gardens. And I had a large family. Grandma’s can always be depended on to buy stuff.

“And who are you selling them for?” Margaret asked.

What a dumb question, I thought. You think I would ride my old bike for two miles up that hill to sell them for somebody else.

“I am selling them for myself,” I said. “I am going to get a pup tent.”

“I thought you might be selling them for the Boy Scouts or Church or something,” Margaret explained.

This is going to be more challenging than I thought. She would donate to some group, but she was hesitant to help some kid achieve his goal.

“That is why I need a pup tent,” I explained. “I have to work at home so much, I don’t have time to join the Boy Scouts. So I have to go camping by myself.”

I thought that was a good comeback. Margaret knew I worked in the barn and in the fields. But then, she also knew my parents. And they would not deprive me of joining the Boy Scouts if that was what I wanted to do.

“I will buy a couple of packs of the peas,” Margaret said. “I don’t have my seeds yet, and it is probably close to the time to be planting peas.”

I figured I would have to come up with a better storyline if I was going to sell all these seeds. And tomorrow, I was going to go the other direction. There were only a couple of small hills on the way to Broadbent.

As the spring progressed, I did manage to sell the necessary allotment of seeds. Although, I would guess my mother bought more than she planned to buy. I placed my order for the pup tent and waited anxiously for its arrival.

I tore open the box when it did arrive. The tent was much larger than I expected. And it was heavier also. Made from heavy canvas, at least it would be durable. It would be difficult for me to carry along with a pack, that was for sure.

I quickly had it set up in the back yard. There was plenty of room for two people that were my size. You couldn’t stand up in it, but that was no problem in my view.

It rained the second day after I had pitched it in the backyard. It didn’t leak one drop, but it took three days to dry out.

Summer came, I planned a camping trip to the back of our 160 acres with my friend from up the river. Dana and I could easily carry the tent, sleeping bags, and my brother’s pack with all the necessary supplies.

We were all packed up and ready to head up the hill when Dad came out to wish us well.

“We are planning to go to the movie tonight,” Dad said. “You two can stay up the hill if you like, or after you set up camp, you can come back and go to town with us. I have a good flashlight, you could go back up the hill when we get home.”

What a dilemma, a movie was hard to pass up in the mid-1950s. Movies were really our only source of outside entertainment. My Dad liked to go to the movies, and we would go a couple of times a month. I knew that Dana did not go that often.

“What do you think?” I asked Dana.

“I think it would be a good idea,” Dana said. “We could go set up camp, come back and go to the movie, and then walk back up in the dark to sleep.”

“Okay, we will go to the movie,” I said to Dad. “We probably will be back in time so we can eat dinner before going.”

With that, we were off. The trek was not long, we crossed the upper fields and crawled over the fence at the pasture’s end. Then we followed the cat road along the creek until it turned up the hill to the burn.

The burn was where they had logged the timber and burned it over to make good pasture for the cows. It was a good-sized area and open so we could watch the deer and other animals.

We picked a spot on the old landing and set up the tent. We threw everything else into the tent and headed back to the house for dinner.

“We don’t want to be late,” I said. “Dad won’t wait for us.”

We hurried along and got to the house just as mom was setting the table for dinner.

“This is a whole lot better than eating that can of pork and beans you would be heating over a fire,” Dad said. “You never know what you are missing until you don’t have it.”

My older sister pulled the car into the garage and came rushing into the house.

“I just had a cougar run across the road in front me,” She said, trying to catch her breath. “I was right down there at the end of Herman’s field.”

Dana’s eyes were large, as we turned around and tried to see if anything was in the field, some half-mile distant. There was nothing there.

“Are you sure it was a cougar?” Dad asked.

“We should call Uncle Robert,” Mom said. “He might want to get his dogs on its track tonight.”

“Yes, I am sure it was a cougar,” Linda said. “It had a long tail, and it moved like it didn’t have a care in the world. Are you boys camping up on that hill tonight?”

“We are going to the movie first,” I said. “We already set up camp. We will walk up there when we get home after the movie.”

“Well, I sure would not be walking up on that hill tonight,” Linda said. “That cougar probably is headed right up the creek.”

“They are brave boys,” Dad said. “We will find out tonight.”

When we got home from the movie, the night sky was clear, and the stars were bright. The moon was not up yet, and there were no lights around to distract from the milky way.

“So, do you boys want my big flashlight?” Dad asked with a little chuckle. “It is going to be pretty dark up along that creek. Or are you a little concerned about that cougar your sister says she saw?”

That was just a little hint that he was not sure he believed my sister. But it was still possible and something to think about.

“I guess we could probably sleep here tonight,” I said. “And then we could go up and cook breakfast at the campsite in the morning.”

“I think I would feel a lot better about things if you slept here,” Mom said. “That cat could carry you off before you even knew it was there.”

That was all we needed to hear. If Mom thought we should sleep in the house, we would sleep in the house.

We were up at the crack of dawn and headed up the hill. We were both well versed in the out of doors. We had a cooking fire going in no time, and I mixed the pancake batter.

“I am not sure those are going to look much like pancakes,” Dana said as he watched me trying to turn over the pancake in the little cook set fry pan.

By the time we sit back to eat, the pancakes were in a jumbled heap on the plates. But it was cooked, and a little syrup made it all better. We ate quietly, both of us thinking that Mom would have made a better breakfast.

After watching a few deer and the digger squirrels, we packed up the camp. Dana just folded the pup tent into a square and threw it over his back. It was all downhill to the house. We started off, chuckling about looking for cougar tracks down at the creek. That made us walk a little faster.

Many Fish to Catch

D. E. Larsen, DVM

Stan pulled into our driveway on his way home from work. I was in the garage and greeted him as he stepped out of his pickup.

“Hi, Stan, what’s up this afternoon,” I said as I shook his hand.

“Dave, you know I have a little fish pond up at my place,” Stan said. “It’s not much, but it grows some pretty good fish. The bunch I have in there now are all about twelve inches long. I am planning to catch a couple of five-gallon bucketfuls Saturday. You are more than welcome if you want to bring your kids up to help catch some fish. It will be pretty hectic. I just throw a small bucket of pellets into the pond, and those fish go crazy. They will bite anything.”

“Sure, Stan, I am sure the kids will enjoy helping,” I said. “What the heck are you going to do with ten gallons of fish?”

“I am going to smoke them,” Stan said. “It takes that many to fill up my smokehouse. It takes as much wood to smoke a small batch as it does to smoke a full smokehouse. Then the problem becomes getting them eaten. I usually put some in the freezer, but my kids are big enough. They can make pretty short work of a bunch of fish.”

“What time do you want to do this?” I asked.

“I was thinking about ten on Saturday morning,” Stan said. “We are supposed to have some light rain later in the morning, but I am guessing we will fill a couple of buckets in less than fifteen minutes.”

“Okay, we will have the girls up there by ten,” I said. “Derek is still too young, but he will enjoy watching.”

When I looked outside on Saturday morning, it was apparent that the weatherman was about as accurate as always. A steady light rain was falling, and it wasn’t seven yet.

I went back to the bedroom to roust Sandy out of bed.

“If we are going to get this crew up to Stan’s by ten, we have to get moving,” I said.

“Have you started cooking breakfast?” Sandy asked.

“I started the coffee,” I said.

“The kids don’t drink coffee,” Sandy said. “I was talking about something for the kids.”

“I’ll make pancakes,” I said. “That is something that they all will eat.”

After getting the girls dressed, I started turning out the pancakes.

“I’m not sure I want to go fishing in the rain,” Brenda said as she seated herself at the table.

“This is going to be a pretty simple fishing trip,” I said. “We will drive up to Stan and Erika’s place, get out of the car and catch a bunch of fish out of Stan’s pond. It won’t take long, and it might be a wild time.”

Amy and Dee were slower to get to the table, but they were there before Sandy came along with Derek. I had taken the kids over the Ames Creek to fish a couple of times this summer. The fish were small and few and far between.

I have always told people that when you teach a kid to fish, you must catch fish. If you are not catching fish, go find something else to do. If the kid asks you what a bite feels like, you have been fishing too long.

“Today we are going to catch a lot of fish,” I said. “And it is not going to take very long. And Susie will be there.”

By the time breakfast was over, I think everyone was on board to go fishing. And Susie had babysat for us, which gave them confidence that they would know someone there.

The entire Walter family was waiting for us when we drove down their driveway and parked by the house. The kids were ready to catch some fish.

Stan was waiting at the pond with a small bucket of pelleted fish food. The rain had stopped, but the grass was still pretty wet. It should be a good day.

This pond was not large. It was rectangular, maybe ten feet across, and thirty feet long. There was a small stream that ran through the pond.

“I dug this out and dumped a load of river gravel in the bottom,” Stan said. “It is eight to ten feet deep, and the fish do really well in it. The stream is not year-round, so we fish it out before the stream drys up. Then in the fall, I order another batch of fish.”

“The banks are pretty steep,” I said.

“Oh, yes,” Stan said. “You wouldn’t want a pond like this with kids the ages of yours. But it works well for us, and we use it just as another farm crop, fish instead of chickens, I guess.”

“So what is the process here?” I asked.

“Ralph and Tina have dug a few worms this morning,” Stan said. “I plan to throw part of this bucket in the pond, and these fish will go wild. It won’t take fifteen minutes to fill those two five-gallon buckets. You and I will have a hard time unhooking the fish and baiting the hooks.”

We got the poles ready and baited the hooks with a small piece of worm. Sandy was holding Derek, talking with Erika, and waiting for the start. We threw the lines in the water, and Brenda had a fish before Stan threw in the pellets. I quickly put Brenda’s fish in the bucket and got her line back in the water.

Stan threw in the pellets, and fish boiled to the surface. The kids all seemed to pull a fish out at the same time. Stan was helping Tina and Brenda, and I took care of Amy and Dee. Ralph and Susie were old pros to the process and caught the lion’s share.

Amy’s pole had a big bend, and she struggled to pull the fish out of the water.

“Do you have any big fish in here?” I asked Stan.

“No chance for a big fish,” Stan said. “These are just put them in and take them out. Most of these fish are the same size. We might see a ten-inch fish once in a while, but most of them will be twelve inches.”

Amy pulled harder, and I helped with a hand on the rod. Out came two fish on the line. One on the hook and one lassoed around the gills with the line.

“That’s pretty good, Amy,” I said. “Catching two fish with one hook.”

It was probably less than fifteen minutes, and the buckets were full.

“That was some event, Stan,” I said.

“There is nothing better than watching kids have fun catching fish,” Stan said. “I am glad you could come and help with the harvest.”

Ralph headed to the house with one of the buckets, and we cleaned up around the pond before heading home to clean up the kids.

“Do you want a handful of these for dinner?” Stan asked.

“Sandy and the kids are much for eating fish,” I said. “I might take a couple, any more than that wound just be wasting them.”

“Pick out what you want,” Stan said.

“Thanks a lot,” I said. “For the fish and for the kids getting a chance to catch them. One of these days, I will have to talk to you about how you smoke them.”

“I don’t do anything special,” Stan said. “Just some salt and brown sugar in a dry brine.”

“I was talking with a guy who said that he would smoke a bunch of kokanees, cut off their heads and tails, and then can them in quart jars,” I said. “He said it worked great.”

“I haven’t tried canning these,” Stan said. “With this crew, we generally just eat them. If that isn’t going to happen, we might stick some in the freezer for a couple of weeks, but that’s all.”

“Well, thanks again,” I said as I loaded the kids into the car. “I will check with you sometime next week.”

Photo by Mateusz Feliksik from Pexels.