I love this dog. I mean, I really do love this little guy. But boy oh boy, he's trying to give me a heart attack at the tender age of 25. As with all puppies, Biggie is quite fond of exploring the world with his mouth. He's grown rather fond of the times spent being scolded for trying to eat wasps, rocks, dirt and trying to lick the electrical socket. Seriously. sigh...
Anyway, Biggie and I were walking into the house through the garage after checking the mail like we do everyday. I hear him smacking his lips like he has yet again gotten a hold of something that I did not hand him myself. So, what do I do? I shove my hand in his mouth and take it from him. When I look to see what it was, I found that I had a live, wiggling adult Black Widow writhing in my fingertips covered in slobber.
Obviously, I jumped, dropped it and stomped it. Threw the mail that was in my other hand on the ground (that reminds me I need to go get that), scooped him up off the ground and ran him inside. We spent the next thirty minutes with me up to my elbows in his mouth with a flashlight and a spoon (to move tongue around). He has since had another one of these checks every thirty minutes since and is not very happy about it. I think somehow he luckily did not get bitten, but I'm still keeping an eye on him like a freaking eagle. I'm sure you all know what I'm talking about, but I was and still am so scared that I was furiously angry. I'm just thankful I didn't lash out on him and just acted concerned instead because honestly, he did what dogs do.
Well, now to go search the entire garage for any more Black Widows and spray more chemicals than Keith Richards has come into contact with. Like I said, he's acting his normal self and appears to be fine, but I'll rush him to the Emergency vet if I notice even a slight change.
Now that the terror is over. Here are some cutie face pictures...
Anyway, Biggie and I were walking into the house through the garage after checking the mail like we do everyday. I hear him smacking his lips like he has yet again gotten a hold of something that I did not hand him myself. So, what do I do? I shove my hand in his mouth and take it from him. When I look to see what it was, I found that I had a live, wiggling adult Black Widow writhing in my fingertips covered in slobber.
Obviously, I jumped, dropped it and stomped it. Threw the mail that was in my other hand on the ground (that reminds me I need to go get that), scooped him up off the ground and ran him inside. We spent the next thirty minutes with me up to my elbows in his mouth with a flashlight and a spoon (to move tongue around). He has since had another one of these checks every thirty minutes since and is not very happy about it. I think somehow he luckily did not get bitten, but I'm still keeping an eye on him like a freaking eagle. I'm sure you all know what I'm talking about, but I was and still am so scared that I was furiously angry. I'm just thankful I didn't lash out on him and just acted concerned instead because honestly, he did what dogs do.
Well, now to go search the entire garage for any more Black Widows and spray more chemicals than Keith Richards has come into contact with. Like I said, he's acting his normal self and appears to be fine, but I'll rush him to the Emergency vet if I notice even a slight change.
Now that the terror is over. Here are some cutie face pictures...