It was Thanksgiving Day. Heidi, the Labrador,
was thrilled with the smells in the air and all
of the people around her. Mom was testing the turkey,
and when she saw Heidi’s doleful eyes, she
relented and gave her a little of the skin. Grandma
Millie gave Heidi one of the cookies; Uncle Bill
gave Heidi a little of his eggnog in her bowl.
When they all sat down to give thanks, no one was
more thankful than Heidi who was under the table
taking food from big and little hands giving her
a bite.
Three hours later Michael ran to his mother and
said that Heidi was sick. Sure enough Heidi was
no longer happy; she was retching, walking with
an arched back and head down; she was very depressed.
Mom quickly let her out to the back yard and was
shocked to see that poor Heidi was passing a bloody
stool.
Mom would normally have rushed Heidi to the veterinary
hospital—but she had a full house of guests.
She decided to wait until the next day, after breakfast
and before lunch when she could slip away. The
next morning, Heidi was repeatedly dry-heaving;
she had a high fever, and her eyes begged her for
help. While the mother rushed her to the vet’s,
Heidi had an accident of foul-smelling bloody diarrhea
in the car.
What’s your diagnosis of Heidi’s problem?
Thanksgiving evening she had a bout of acute gastritis,
a rapidly-forming inflammation of the lining of
the stomach. Giving her no more food that evening,
an adult dose of Pepto Bismol, and a long walk
(something about a long walk soothes gastritis
in people and dogs, and colic in livestock) could
have stopped the problem there—but it had
progressed to Pancreatitis, a potentially deadly
inflammation of the pancreas.
The pancreas secretes enzymes to digest fat; a
dog’s digestive system has not evolved to
handle lots of rich, fatty or spicy food (not available
to them in the wild). When the pancreas is asked
by receptors in the GI system to secrete more and
more enzymes, the little ducts or canals can easily
get plugged from over-secretion (much like our
oil glands on our face can get plugged and form
a pimple). But the receptors, not knowing the duct
is plugged, tell the body it needs more and more
digestive enzymes; the pancreas tries to respond,
but the digestive enzymes burst the thin lining
of the duct and dump the digestive enzymes inside
its own body. The enzymes begin to literally digest
or munch up the body’s own organs. It’s
extremely painful; any existing bacteria start
multiplying at an alarming rate, releasing toxins
into the body—and unless stopped by drugs
and fluids from a veterinarian, the dog will probably
die.
Heidi spent the next two days hooked up to IV fluids
and antibiotics and getting only ice cubes to lick
for supper followed by a bland diet for the next
week. So remember, a 50 pound dog is 1/3 the size
of an average person—multiply everything
you give her by 3 to see the same relative amount
to you. A 10 pound dog is roughly 1/15 your size.
If you give her 2 cups of turkey, dressing, and
pumpkin pie, it’s like giving 6 cups for
a 50 pound dog size or 30 cups for a 10 pound dog—and
they can handle only about 1/10 as much of that
stuff as you can. Practice moderation and both
you and your furry family members can have a HAPPY
THANKSGIVING!
