Picker Balls and Thorns, Oh My!

Another walk... in the December dusk. The front door opens and I hear the words no Mom wants to hear, "Mom, she got into something she shouldn't have......"

I'm snacking at the kitchen table and first thing that comes to mind is she rolled in poop or a dead animal. The bile rises and I ask Bob "you're going to take care of it right?"

The end before the middle here: Roxie is fine and the trip to the vet was no charge. Yay.....

So here's the middle... she walked into, then tangled with a picker ball vine. Yeah, I know that's not a real horticultural term, but you see my meaning, right? She was COVERED, COVERED, COVERED in little tiny picker balls.... in her feet, her face, her ears, her body, her legs..... It seems that wirehairs "attract things"........

She was eating/picking them off her legs. Bob and I tried to pick them off on the family room floor. She wiggled and twisted, and argued and barked and whined. Then she told me not to touch her face.... by the judicious use of her teeth. Not a bite, really. Just a snap and hold. Sort of "here's how mad I am, so stop it".........

Yep. That did it for me, I'm a quick study when it comes to snaps. I know she was frustrated. It probably hurt having those hundreds and thousands of picker balls pulled out. We used little combs, which worked well. But the face and lips required professional help. I caved, called the vet and asked if they might be able to sedate her. Sure, they said, come on in.

We get there. They take us right in. The vet tech asked if we wanted them cut out or shaved. My face told her neither.... well, we haven't introduced her to family yet because we were waiting for a clear fecal (remember those darned worms?) and were looking forward to showing her off at Christmas. What a disappointment if she had her face shaved! She has such pretty mustache and beard.......

So one of our favorite vets comes in, Dr. R, and right away she starts picking balls from Roxie's face. And the sweet little brat stood there so calm and quiet, nary a peep out of her! We said with some embarrassment that she wouldn't hold still for us at home. Dr. R was most reassuring, saying the dogs act different at the vet. Ummm, apparently so. No sedation needed!

So home again, home again, skippity skip. Beard and mustache intact, albeit a little thinner. A big dinner with a topper of scrambled eggs, white rice, a taste of velveeta - apparently those little picker balls she ate off her legs are "distressing on the tummy" - here's hoping she doesn't feel the need to hurl at 3:00 AM.......

Bob thought he might go back tomorrow to see just what the vine was so he can identify it next time. Ya think?

Oh, and I forgot to post yesterday that Bob came back from a Roxie walk with HUGE thorns in his hands. He "fell down". In a bush. "It was Roxie's fault." She pulled him.... can you see my perplexed frown?

He walks in the door, "Mom, I'm hurt" That took 30 minutes of kitchen table surgery with the pointy tweezers and the lighted magnifying glass.

Between the two of them, they are keeping me busy. I don't know whether to not be home when they return from walks, or stay at my post for the injured.

Sorry, no pictures as we were too busy pickin'