Rottweiler vs. Porcupine

And guess who won? THE VET!!!!! Do you know how much porcupines SUCK for dog owners?? Putting a dollar value on it, I'd say it's somewhere in the neighbourhood of $459-worth of sucking. I tell ya, I've suddenly developed a deep loathing of porcupines.

Our beautiful, well mannered Rottweiler, Whiskie, recently developed the nasty habit of wandering the countryside with the neighbour's dog. It used to always just be for a few days while she was in heat, but after the last time, she didn't stop like she always did before. It just continued and we knew they were spending time down at the river that angles from a mile west of us to a mile north of us.

On April 25, she had her first encounter with a new and exciting creature and came home with souvenir quills. A LOT of quills. When I first saw her, I seriously thought she was carrying the stupid thing in her mouth. Fortunately, Greg hadn't started his current trucking job yet, so he was around to load her into the van, take her to the vet, and help pull quills. The vet estimated that they pulled a couple THOUSAND quills, mostly out of her throat and chest. She had a few in her cheeks, nose, mouth and around her eyes, but her chest and throat definitely took the majority. After 3 hours at the vet (and of course, not regular business hours), she was home again, thoroughly sedated and with a prescriptions for painkillers and antibiotics. Greg asked the vet if he could give her her annual vaccinations right away, but he said her body had been through enough.

Two days and a few miscellaneous quills later, she was pretty much back to her usual self although one eye was looking suspiciously aggravated yet. It was stuck shut with a constant supply of disgusting, sticky green pus, and to my horror, I did indeed find a quill there. Greg was still home, but gone for the day at an estate auction and I knew I couldn't just leave the quill in there. It had obviously already done some damage. It appeared to be lodged in her upper eyelid and poking down in behind her bottom one, likely scratching her eye every time she tried to blink. And so the nightmare began.

I made her lie down and pinning her neck down with my left arm and prying her eye open with that hand, I grabbed the offending quill with the pliers in my right hand. What happened next is an experience I hope to NEVER repeat. If you've ever watched a movie in which a man was being tortured, you know the sound my poor dog made. She literally screamed in pain as I pulled the quill. I've heard dogs yelp and howl when they get hurt before, but never a torturous scream like that. I was on the verge of puking, fainting, and crying all at the same time. Once the ordeal was finally over, I buried my face in her fur and wept, apologizing over and over for putting her through it, but telling her it was for her own good. I'm generally not the type to talk to my dog or treat her like a child, but I couldn't help it just then.

After that, although it looked like she'd possibly lose the use of that eye, she improved quickly and I made an appointment for her vaccinations for May 10. But she resumed her bad habit and on May 4th, only 9 days after the first encounter, she and the porcupine had a rematch. And though there didn't appear to be quite as many quills, Whiskie definitely took the bulk of them in the mouth this time. And Greg was now on the road somewhere between Swan and Brandon, of absolutely no assistance.

Depending on what kind of person you are, this was either a good thing or a bad thing. We hadn't gotten the vet bill yet from the first encounter, and while I was inclined to take her to the vet again, I knew that if Greg was home, his solution would have been a single, high-velocity ounce of lead. I had actually decided to call someone to come and 'put her down' because it kills me to have a dog on a 4-acre yard that has to be tied up 24/7 and yet I wasn't sure if I wanted her to be free to roam ever again. I changed my mind, however, and decided to try and salvage my pet once again, and though I was still in tears from having made the decision to say goodbye to the best dog we've ever had, I phoned my friend Ang and asked her to help me get Whiskie into the van and off to the vet's. Again after hours, of course. Stupid dog can't choose regular business hours to get into trouble.

Ang is the quintessential farm girl -- and makes an awesome junior high science teacher as a result. She's very accustomed to being shoulder-deep inside a cow to assist a calf's birth and various other gross activities that just come with the territory. She was on our yard in a flash and helped me load Whiskie into a kennel and back into the van. Then she offered to take the dog to the vet because everyone who knows me knows I wouldn't have been of any assistance to the vet.

They were only gone for 2 hours this time, so there had definitely been fewer quills (maybe only one thousand instead of two), but Whiskie was in considerably worse shape. She'd been given a long-term antibiotic shot at the vet's this time, so at least I didn't need to try and force pills down her throat, but she just wasn't bouncing back. Days later, her coat was still dull and matted, she developed a serious limp, and the underside of her jaw was swollen, rock hard, and ready to abscess. I kept her vaccination appointment for the 10th, but it turned into a post-porky check-up. The vet again said she wasn't strong enough to handle vaccinations. He also said we definitely needed to keep her tied up because her body would just not be able to handle another encounter in the next few weeks. I assured him she was tied up unless we were outside with her and that satisfied him. He poked and prodded around in her mouth, pulled a few quills, had a good look inside her bad eye -- which was still definitely not right -- and said he thought all the pus was simply her eye trying to recover. After giving her a shot of painkiller and another of anti-inflammatory, he sent her home with another round of oral antibiotics, more painkillers, and some ointment for the eye.

The next day, just this last Friday, I finally noticed an improvement in her condition. Whatever meds she'd gotten at the vet's the day before seemed to have given her the extra boost her body needed to really launch the healing process. We spent a lot of time outside that day and she didn't do much, but was surprisingly mobile, with no noticeable limp. I spent some time with her before lunch and pulled 6 more quills, all which were already working their way out of her skin.

For those of you who don't know, porcupine quills are not actually barbed at the end, but are rather a little scaly. A quill is essentially a hardened hair and you know those shampoo commercials that give you a really close-up look at damaged hair? That's how the business end of a quill looks. Those scales are designed to embed the quill deeper and deeper with the host animal's natural muscle movement. Nine of the 10 quills that I pulled out of her that day were already scaly end out, which means just the smooth end is left under the skin. Those can be pulled fairly easily, or even rubbed out by the animal.

In the afternoon my girls wanted to go for a walk, so I untied the dog and decided to see how she'd handle my regular 2-mile walk. She managed just fine, but lo and behold, the 10th quill I pulled that day came out of the same bad eye. There was just suddenly a quill poking straight out of the outside corner -- wrong end out. I was still a quarter mile from home, I didn't have my pliers with me, and my girls were in the bike trailer/stroller thingy watching me. I sure didn't want to have a repeat of the previous eye-quill experience under their scrutiny. They're both quite sensitive souls and had been upset with me earlier for hurting Whiskie, even though I'd explained over and over that the quills needed to come out, and the sooner the better. But I really had no choice but to take care of it, right then and there, with my fingers. I clenched my teeth, took a deep breath, braced myself for a fight, and began the slow, steady pull. Despite facing backwards, the quill came out surprisingly easily, much to my incredible relief.

That was 3 days ago now, and Whiskie continues to improve. I think she's basically back to her old self -- finally, after a week and a half of wondering whether she'd ever be the same. Her eye is no longer pus-y, so the ointment must be helping, but the white part is still very bloodshot and there's a distinct bump on her eye. I'm REALLY hoping -- and even praying sometimes, even though I feel a little silly bothering God about an idiotic dog -- that it's just the wound where one of those 2 quills was lodged or caused damage, and not a third one that still needs to come out. That thought just makes me sick to my stomach.

So for now, Whiskie will remain tied up to avoid future incidents and hopefully to help her forget how much fun exploring down by the river is. Porcupines are active year-round, but I'm hoping once everything's frozen and snow-covered, the river will be less of a draw. It will certainly be harder to get to, cross-country.

It's heart-breaking though, seeing her tied to her doghouse, even though it's a 20' chain. There's just little point in having a dog out in the country, in my opinion, if she can't be free.