Happy Valentine's Day friends!
Gail informs me that little girls are taught you have to kiss a lot of frogs before you find a prince.
What I learned last Friday is that a fox terrier only needs to kiss one toad before he gets a very sore mouth indeed...
Oh, apparently Gail has more to add..
Gail here:
All is now well with Nobby but it was a somewhat stressful weekend.
Nobby and I were at the Torridon cottage for a few days, joined by my Aberdeen neighbour Yvonne. Shortly after arrival on Friday afternoon, we took Nobby for a walk up the lane to a viewpoint over Loch Torridon and at some point I noticed his jaws seemed to be chomping on something and there was foam around his teeth. He's always nosing about in the vegetation and you'll remember he once successfully caught a vole and let it go, but I never actually saw any creature in his mouth this time.
Back at the cottage he continued to work his jaws, pawing at his mouth and salivating (a lot). I wondered if he had something stuck between his teeth or in the roof of his mouth. He wasn't going to permit a close examination, but as far as I could see, nothing unusual there. Thankfully there was no sign of choking.
He ate his evening meal no problem, was restless all evening and the apparent discomfort in his mouth continued, but he had a quiet night.
Come Saturday morning I noticed he was drinking and drinking. I repeatedly filled his water bowl. With no vomiting or diarrhoea, Nobby was eating normally and had plenty of energy for a breezy five mile walk, but was lapping at every available puddle when outdoors.
Then back at the cottage he started to tremble and I started to get very worried. Cue a couple of phone calls, first to my retired vet friend Kirsty, in Aberdeen, and second to an 'official' emergency vet. Both thought a 'watch and wait' approach to be appropriate. It was Kirsty who suggested Nobby might have 'kissed' a toad and after consulting Dr Google I concluded this was a very credible hypothesis, given Nobby's symptoms and the fact that I've many times seen toads around the cottage.
In the evening, Nobby came with us to a local bar, where Yvonne and I enjoyed a delicious meal, and he sat quietly at our feet wearing a somewhat hangdog expression.
Before bed, Nobby spent about twenty minutes sluicing his mouth with more water from the bowl, and was still trembling a bit.
We retired for the night, me still imagining all sorts of terrible outcomes for Nobby, but by morning he seemed fully recovered and back to his usual happy, exuberant self, and has been absolutely fine ever since.
What a relief!
