In a message dated 8/6/2008 10:13:28 A.M. Eastern Daylight Time, wonggster
@gmail.com writes:
Frank,
Sorry to hear this. Any bad thing that happens to a dog tears me up.
If it ever happens again. If you can scam a Trocar chest needle from a
doctor or a nurse you can use it to relieve the pressure to get to the ER. A
sharpened metal turkey baster will work too but is nasty, very hard to insert. It
is like a temporary gut tracheotomy. I had to save a US bred shep we were
watching once. It was scary but it worked until we got him to Penn Vet.
gino
Thanks for the information, Gino. I got him to the vet in time but he could
not survive the surgery. Here is my post about him on another list. There is
also a file attached.
"If a Dog Be Well Remembered"
(by Ben Hur Lampman from the Sept. 11, 1925 Portland Oregonian)
We are thinking now of a dog, whose coat was flame in the sunshine and who,
so far as we are aware, never entertained a mean or an unworthy thought. This
dog is buried beneath a cherry tree, under four feet of garden loam, and at
its proper season the cherry strews petals on the lawn of his grave. Beneath
a cherry tree or an apple or any flowering shrub of the garden is an
excellent place to bury a good dog. Beneath such trees, such shrubs, he slept in the
drowsy summer or gnawed at a flavorous bone or lifted head to challenge some
strange intruder.
These are good places, in life or in death.
Yet it is small matter. For if a dog be well remembered, if sometimes he
leaps through your dreams actual as in life, eyes kindling, laughing, begging,
it matters not at all where the dog sleeps. On a hill where the wind is
unrebuked and the trees roaring, or beside a stream he knew in puppyhood, or
somewhere in the flatness of a pastureland where most exhilarating cattle graze. It
is all one to the dog, and all one to you, and nothing is gained and nothing
is lost -- if memory lives.
But there is one best place to bury a dog.
If you bury him in this spot, he will come to you when you call -- come to
you over the grim, dim frontiers of death, and down the well-remembered path,
and to your side again. And though you call a dozen living dogs to heel they
shall not growl at him, nor resent his coming, for he belongs there. People
may scoff at you, who see no lightest blade of grass bent by his footfall, who
hear no whimper, people who may never really have had a dog. Smile at them,
for you shall know something that is hidden from them, and which is well
worth knowing.
The one best place to bury a dog is in the heart of his master.
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