This story was originally published on my vet school blog, “Wet Cleanup on Aisle 5.”
Bear the Dog was a mess. You would be, too, if you’d just had an exploratory laparotomy that revealed two grass-encrusted tampons and a rawhide chew blocking your small intestine. But at least Bear’s insides were working correctly now, as evidenced by the watery feces that covered his body after a night recovering in our kennel.
Cleaning him up was my first task of the day, and fortunately it was warm enough to hose him off outside – but carefully, so as not to wet the incision.
I had to soak his feet and tail in order to get the crust off, and then I picked away at it with my bare hands. He was very patient throughout the ordeal, which took a good twenty minutes, at least.
Afterwards, I was back in the hospital realizing that I hadn’t yet had breakfast.
“Man, that made me hungry,” I said.
Then, as an afterthought, “Hmm. That’s kinda messed up when dog poop makes you hungry.”
“Yep,” my coworker agreed. “You’re a lifer.”
