When I got home last night, I fed the dogs a beef rib (short rib) each. They freaking love them and they get them about once a week. But when Gene’s out of town, they get 1 rib each every day to make up for all the treating they miss.
So! I give the dogs the ribs and watch some TV. Eventually, the dogs get bored and come to the living room to hang out with me. At some point, Betty got back into her kennel to retrieve what was left of hers (mostly the bone, the shape and size of a pack of gum). And then we all went to bed. First, she scoots under the covers (probably to piss off Scooby, who prefers to sleep there). After a minute of that, she starts to freak out and get out of bed. She’s whining and can’t close her mouth.
I’ll be damned if she didn’t manage to get that bone caught between her back teeth, making it impossible for her to close her mouth. The ENTIRE bone. As in, the bone was wedged all the way back and stretched to both sides of her mouth. It was one of those times that I was exceptionally glad that Betty and Scooby aren’t evil like my parents’ dachsund, Max. If Max had a bone wedged in his mouth and I had to retrieve it, I would have pulled back five stumps.
And yes…this is the second time this has happened. My plan is to only give the dogs beef ribs or any bone when we’re home to supervise and check once in awhile. I don’t think that the bone was cutting off her air supply, so I think it was just uncomfortable and not dangerous.
(Yes, they make boneless beef ribs, but the bone is part of the fun, Gene feels).