Headline: CALLING THE ER VETS
Sub-Head: PEPPERMINT PATTI IS A 14-POUND BALL OF FLUFF WITH AN APPETITE – FOR TROUBLE
Byline: JOEL THURTELL
Pub-Date: 12/10/2006
Memo: PLYMOUTH CANTON NORTHVILLE
Correction:
Text: She’s our $1,000 dog.
Peppermint Patti was a gift from my mother-in-law, who couldn’t handle this 14-pound ball of fluff the Humane Society told her was a bichon frise.
A 200-pound mastiff would be easier to deal with. Patti likes to eat. She will eat anything. She snatches trash from wastebaskets. Food off the table. Eyeglasses from a desk.
She once devoured a batch of cookies. Yanked them off the dining room table. Ate cookies, plastic bag and all.
But that’s not why we call her our $1,000 dog.
One day, my wife, Karen, noticed a cardboard tray of rat poison in a basement room. The d-Con had been hidden under a dresser for months. Patti somehow discovered it, dragged it out and ate it. We’d forgotten about it. Toby, our elderly terrier mix, never bothered it. But now the box was empty.
Then I noticed something. On the back lawn. Dog poop. Brown on one end, iridescent green on the other.
Empty d-Con dispenser and the green poop? She must have eaten poison. I took Patti to our veterinarian.
“Did you see her eat d-Con?” the vet asked me.
No.
“She’s not bleeding anywhere, and that would be a sign she’d eaten d-Con,” the vet said. He sent us home.
Rat poison contains a substance called warfarin that decreases blood clotting. It is used in humans as a blood thinner. Warfarin poisons animals by stopping the normal clotting that heals wounds. They bleed internally. That’s what the vet was looking for – unusual or excessive bleeding.
Patti did indeed seem fine, though. She’s a funny, hyper little thing, romping around the house and yard. Her constant antics are a delight. A tiny thing growling fiercely. She makes you laugh.
We laughed about our d-Con-proof dog. But no matter what the vet said, we were convinced she’d eaten the poison. “Didn’t faze our d-Con dog,” we chuckled.
A week or so later, Patti stopped romping. We weren’t laughing then. She wheezed. She coughed. She had trouble breathing. She was in trouble – d-Con.
We recalled a sign in Plymouth: Veterinary Emergency Service.
We called. Bring her in, we were told. Now.
Dr. John Krieger is an emergency vet. He’s 29, lives in Brighton, got his doctor of veterinary medicine degree from Michigan State University in 2002.
He saved Peppermint Patti.
First, he looked Patti over. She had swelling under her chin from a needle puncture from doc No. 1. It keeps getting bigger, he told us. The warfarin wouldn’t allow the blood from the wound to clot, so it pooled in a bruise, and the swelling was making it hard for Patti to breathe. Plus, her red blood cell count was dropping.
He gave her a plasma transfusion and vitamin K.
Patti spent the night in a dog hospital. We picked her up the next day, paid the $800-plus bill and figured that with the first vet visit and follow-ups, she’d cost us close to a grand.
$1,000 dog.
Though tired, she was her old frolicking self when she returned home. Still pulling things out of wastebaskets, off tables – she ruined two pairs of my glasses – and being a general nuisance. Cute and a pain in the butt.
When we leave home now, we lock or block cupboard doors and sequester Patti in the kitchen. A couple of weeks ago, I came home and learned from Karen that I’d forgotten to lock Patti up when I left that morning.
On one of our bedroom floors was part of a wrapper from a 750-gram slab of European dark chocolate. Maybe 150 grams remained.
Did you know that chocolate can be lethal to dogs? It’s true.
I was skeptical that she’d actually eaten chocolate.
But back to the doggie ER we went. Dr. Krieger forced Patti to vomit. Up came proof of what she’d done – chocolate and wrapping paper.
Chocolate contains theobromine, a chemical that is toxic to dogs, said Dr. Anna Arthmire, a veterinarian and co-owner of Veterinary Emergency Service.
“Dogs will eat anything,” said Arthmire, 47.
She lives in Huntington Woods with her husband, Marty Mlynarek, 48, also a vet. They also run an emergency animal hospital in Madison Heights.
Vets are seeing more and more cases of pets getting sick from rat poison, Arthmire said. An explosion of the rat population in eastern Wayne County has prompted people to liberally set out d-Con in homes and yards, and pets as well as rats will consume the poison, she said.
D-Con symptoms don’t show up for a long time, but usually pet owners see their dogs eat rat poison and bring them to a vet right away. Those cases don’t become as dire as Patti’s. Also, in cases of chocolate poisoning, pet owners usually notice the missing chocolate and quickly figure out what happened, as Karen did.
“In 20 years, we’ve only lost one patient to chocolate toxicity, and that was because it had just gone too long,” Arthmire said.
Not only do dogs eat anything, but they don’t learn what’s bad for them. Patti has a taste for chocolate now. She watches candy with the eye of a connoisseur.
In the chocolate episode, Patti again spent the night in the hospital. We paid the bill and took home a very tired dog.
A $1,500 dog.
Contact JOEL THURTELL at 248-351-3296 or thurtell@freepress.com.
Caption: Thurtell family photo
Peppermint Patti has been a lucky dog – so far.
MADALYN RUGGIERO / Special to the Free Press
Veterinary assistant Sharon Perkins, 43, of Plymouth holds Bixby while veterinary technician Joan Hawkins, 59, left, of Detroit examines him at Veterinary Emergency Service on Ann Arbor Road in Plymouth. Bixby’s owners are Kathy Peltier and her husband, Rick Ambrose, of Northville.
Vet assistant Perkins holds Bixby as blood is drawn. The dog was battling hemorrhagic gastroenteritis, which can be fatal if not treated.
Photos by MADALYN RUGGIERO / Special to the Free Press
Veterinarian Ellen LaFramboise, 32, of Livonia looks through some records at Veterinary Emergency Service in Plymouth. The clinic is open around the clock to treat ill and injured animals like Bixby and Patti. Veterinary assistant Joan Hawkins is in the background.
Illustration: PHOTO
Edition: METRO FINAL
Section: CFP; COMMUNITY FREE PRESS
Page: 1CN
Keywords: dogs
Disclaimer: THIS ELECTRONIC VERSION MAY DIFFER SLIGHTLY FROM THE PRINTED ARTICLE
Peppermint Patti
Over the holidays, I found it hard to concentrate on blogging. In fact, I did precious little writing of any kind. Once again, I was brought face to face with the downside of running a one-man writing show: If I don’t write it, it won’t get written. True, occasionally I’ve had the good fortune to have renowned writers like Luke Warm and Ned Yardline pinch hit for me. But it’s always been on THEIR terms, work written when Luke or Ned feels compelled to unload verbiage on some personal fetish such as journalistic deceit or lame athletics. Meantime, I’ve had to discipline Pete Pizzicato, my music critic, and I just don’t expect much from the food writer, Melanie Munch.
So I cast my eye around the house and suddenly found the solution lying asleep under the Christmas tree. It was Peppermint Patti, the family dog who, believe it or not, actually talks to me. Not in English, but in small barks and chirps and sneezes and huffs that signal me her immediate wants, which must be attended to forthwith.
If Patti can talk, why couldn’t she write? Would she be willing to write for my blog? And not join The Bloggers’ Guild?
Negotiations are ongoing, and they include plenty of fake bacon treats, believe me.
I’m so hopeful that Patti will add her byline to my roster of esteemed writers that I’d like to introduce her by way of an article I wrote about her. Patti’s story was first published in the Detroit Free Press on December 10, 2006. I’m running it with permission of the Detroit Free Press.
CALLING THE ER VETS
PEPPERMINT PATTI IS A 14-POUND BALL OF FLUFF WITH AN APPETITE – FOR TROUBLE
Byline: JOEL THURTELL
She’s our $1,000 dog.
Peppermint Patti was a gift from my mother-in-law, who couldn’t handle this 14-pound ball of fluff the Humane Society told her was a bichon frise.
A 200-pound mastiff would be easier to deal with. Patti likes to eat. She will eat anything. She snatches trash from wastebaskets. Food off the table. Eyeglasses from a desk.
She once devoured a batch of cookies. Yanked them off the dining room table. Ate cookies, plastic bag and all.
But that’s not why we call her our $1,000 dog.
One day, my wife, Karen, noticed a cardboard tray of rat poison in a basement room. The d-Con had been hidden under a dresser for months. Patti somehow discovered it, dragged it out and ate it. We’d forgotten about it. Toby, our elderly terrier mix, never bothered it. But now the box was empty.
Then I noticed something. On the back lawn. Dog poop. Brown on one end, iridescent green on the other.
Empty d-Con dispenser and the green poop? She must have eaten poison. I took Patti to our veterinarian.
“Did you see her eat d-Con?” the vet asked me.
No.
“She’s not bleeding anywhere, and that would be a sign she’d eaten d-Con,” the vet said. He sent us home.
Rat poison contains a substance called warfarin that decreases blood clotting. It is used in humans as a blood thinner. Warfarin poisons animals by stopping the normal clotting that heals wounds. They bleed internally. That’s what the vet was looking for – unusual or excessive bleeding.
Patti did indeed seem fine, though. She’s a funny, hyper little thing, romping around the house and yard. Her constant antics are a delight. A tiny thing growling fiercely. She makes you laugh.
We laughed about our d-Con-proof dog. But no matter what the vet said, we were convinced she’d eaten the poison. “Didn’t faze our d-Con dog,” we chuckled.
A week or so later, Patti stopped romping. We weren’t laughing then. She wheezed. She coughed. She had trouble breathing. She was in trouble – d-Con.
We recalled a sign in Plymouth: Veterinary Emergency Service.
We called. Bring her in, we were told. Now.
Dr. John Krieger is an emergency vet. He’s 29, lives in Brighton, got his doctor of veterinary medicine degree from Michigan State University in 2002.
He saved Peppermint Patti.
First, he looked Patti over. She had swelling under her chin from a needle puncture from doc No. 1. It keeps getting bigger, he told us. The warfarin wouldn’t allow the blood from the wound to clot, so it pooled in a bruise, and the swelling was making it hard for Patti to breathe. Plus, her red blood cell count was dropping.
He gave her a plasma transfusion and vitamin K.
Patti spent the night in a dog hospital. We picked her up the next day, paid the $800-plus bill and figured that with the first vet visit and follow-ups, she’d cost us close to a grand.
$1,000 dog.
Though tired, she was her old frolicking self when she returned home. Still pulling things out of wastebaskets, off tables – she ruined two pairs of my glasses – and being a general nuisance. Cute and a pain in the butt.
When we leave home now, we lock or block cupboard doors and sequester Patti in the kitchen. A couple of weeks ago, I came home and learned from Karen that I’d forgotten to lock Patti up when I left that morning.
On one of our bedroom floors was part of a wrapper from a 750-gram slab of European dark chocolate. Maybe 150 grams remained.
Did you know that chocolate can be lethal to dogs? It’s true.
I was skeptical that she’d actually eaten chocolate.
But back to the doggie ER we went. Dr. Krieger forced Patti to vomit. Up came proof of what she’d done – chocolate and wrapping paper.
Chocolate contains theobromine, a chemical that is toxic to dogs, said Dr. Anna Arthmire, a veterinarian and co-owner of Veterinary Emergency Service.
“Dogs will eat anything,” said Arthmire, 47.
She lives in Huntington Woods with her husband, Marty Mlynarek, 48, also a vet. They also run an emergency animal hospital in Madison Heights.
Vets are seeing more and more cases of pets getting sick from rat poison, Arthmire said. An explosion of the rat population in eastern Wayne County has prompted people to liberally set out d-Con in homes and yards, and pets as well as rats will consume the poison, she said.
D-Con symptoms don’t show up for a long time, but usually pet owners see their dogs eat rat poison and bring them to a vet right away. Those cases don’t become as dire as Patti’s. Also, in cases of chocolate poisoning, pet owners usually notice the missing chocolate and quickly figure out what happened, as Karen did.
“In 20 years, we’ve only lost one patient to chocolate toxicity, and that was because it had just gone too long,” Arthmire said.
Not only do dogs eat anything, but they don’t learn what’s bad for them. Patti has a taste for chocolate now. She watches candy with the eye of a connoisseur.
In the chocolate episode, Patti again spent the night in the hospital. We paid the bill and took home a very tired dog.
A $1,500 dog.
Edition: METRO FINAL
Section: CFP; COMMUNITY FREE PRESS
P.S. Patti is now the $2,000 dog. It happened the day after we had to have our old dog, Toby, put to sleep. he’d had a stroke and couldn’t walk. Toby was Patti’s good buddy, and our little faux bichon’s frolicking antics spiced up the elderly gent’s last months. There had been high winds that day, and some branches were knocked off our maple trees.
It began with shrieking from our back yard. Patti was hurt, but at first we couldn’t see her injury. Then Karen noticed a trace of blood on her coat behind a foreleg, on her chest.
Back to the ER: The vets found it – she’d jumped high, chasing a squirrel, landing on a downed branch of maple tree that wedged between her flesh and her rib cage. Lots of pain, lots of chance for infection. Another night in the ER and $500 later, we had our two-thousand-dollar Patti.
“we had our two-thousand-dollar Patti”, ha ha ha, pricey dog. nice post!