Last night it was the goats. Tonight, we’re all watching a movie and we hear the Husky go off. I mean a “Help me!” yelping from the other room.
I rush in and all I see is the top of his head and his mouth looks like it’s pulling Foster Dog by the neck. DD3 is right behind me. Someone said, “He’s stuck!”
The Husky had gotten his lower jaw stuck under Foster’s collar and was “death rolling” like an alligator. Unfortunately, he was rolling in the wrong direction trapping himself even worse. Her collar was extremely tight. She couldn’t breathe. He was desperately trying to get free, howling and yelping. She was trying to pull away.
It took 3 of us to hold them down while others scrambled to find the scissors to cut her collar. DS3 ran to the shed and grabbed the tin snips just in case. Husky kept trying to roll, and we had to basically lay on him because his rolls were strangling Foster Dog.
Her eyes were faded looking, mouth foaming and she was peeing. We could see she was going. I briefly thought, “My foster dog is dying right in front of me.” Utter chaos with people yelling instructions at each other, then bending over to try to calm the dogs. DD3 got the scissors under Foster’s collar, but couldn’t get enough power behind them to cut through. DH took them and managed to do it. He said he wasn’t sure what was going to break first: her collar or the scissors.
30 mins or more of petting/love plus chicken treats and they’re doing fine now. Even the poor Boxer was shaking. DS3 and I went out to take care of critters and lock them up for the night. He said, “Last night was goats. Tonight dogs. Tomorrow going to be the chickens?” I have a warped sense of humor that kicks in to stress, so without thinking I said, “Gonna choke the chickens?” He died.
I’m going to Hell for that one, aren’t I?