Woof, woof…February 4, 2010
The girls’ Mamie, with whom we live, got a dog for Christmas. It’s a tiny beast called Filou, or for Angeline Titou or Woof, as in “Auriane won’t share my Woof.” He is a 7 month old Tekal, a tiny dog that can be transported everywhere. They are frequently used for hunting both animals and truffles. The girls favorite place to be at the moment is wherever Filou is playing. In fact, outside of their Mamie, the girls are the only other people he likes, or at least, they don’t scare him. Raphael is his least favorite person.
Last night Olivia came up stairs with large watery eyes. She sat down beside me and leaned in. “What’s wrong?” I asked.
She leaned up to my ear and whispered, “Filou is at the veterinarian, mommy.”
“Really?” I noticed the afternoon had been quieter. Filou has taken to barking, a lot.
“He might die,” Olivia added taking my arm in earnestness. My eyes got big and I wondered what could have happened to this otherwise healthy dog. “He ate a rock today and it is stuck inside him.”
Okay, so I admit, upon hearing he ate a rock I struggled not to laugh. I mean why, really, would any animal get the idea to eat a rock. I imagine they don’t taste like anything. They don’t smell like anything either. So why? It is a dog and I do believe Angeline has sampled rocks before so maybe I should ask her why the appeal. Although I think for her it was a question of gnawing it around in her mouth.
A minute or so later Raphael came upstairs and asked me if I heard about Filou? “Yes. Olivia said he might die.”
“Not likely,” Raphael said. “He’s at the vet with an IV and sleeping peacefully. He’s scheduled to have surgery tomorrow morning to remove the rock, and it’s risky.”
“But why won’t he just pass it out in his poop,” I ask?
“It’s too big and stuck somewhere.” And once again, I wonder why would the dog eat an apparently rather large rock.