The following is an entry submitted by my brother, Steve:
I know it may not exactly make "veterinary history," but I have just successfully performed the Heimlich Maneuver on my son's yellow Labrador retriever, Ray.
Ray has only been with us a little over a week, but everyone, especially my son, Kyle, has fallen in love with him. He's not the smartest animal I've ever known and he's proving a challenge to house train, but I have a soft spot for him as well. He's a born natural when it comes to fetch, so I purchased squeaky tennis balls for him as well as a blue one of similar size without the fuzzy outer covering.
Kyle and I were sitting in the family room around the fire place when it happened. I got Ray's attention with the ball and he laid down next to my chair to play with it. After a few minutes, I heard the familiar sound all dogs make when they need to vomit. I jumped up in order to carry him to a room with tile or concrete, then noticed that the ball was missing. He began making choking noises and I ascertained that he had swallowed the ball. "God, he's choking." I said, as my years of training took over.
I picked him up to a standing position and felt his throat. Sure enough, it had an enlarged swelling, just above the trachea, that was ball-shaped. First, I shoved my hand in his mouth to see if I could get a hold of it. All I could feel was the back of his throat. I positioned my right fist just below his zyphoid process (if dogs have that) just below the sternum and glanced over at Kyle. He was up on his knees on the couch with a very concerned look on his face. All I could think was that I couldn't let my son's dog die right in front of him. I had to keep my head.
Grabbing my right wrist with my left hand, I plunged my fist up and into Ray's thoracic cavity. He attempted to get away from me, confused as to why I was attacking him, as he attempted to disgorge the obstruction on his own. I gave him a few thrusts, then stuck my hand in his mouth to see if it had come free. After two series, I felt the first hint of panic. It wasn't working. I decided to thrust harder with nothing to lose. After one more attempt, Ray's demeanor changed, as if the ball had come up into his mouth. Again, I stuck my hand to the back and was barely able to get my thumb and middle finger around the slippery ball. I removed it and immediately tossed it in the trash can.
Ray was obviously traumatized, as was Kyle. I immediately sought to console both at the same time. Ray was beside himself, wondering what had happened and why I had been so mean to him. Kyle was beside himself because he didn't need the stress of losing the dog he loves. They're both okay now. I've decided to dispose of all non-edible toys that are tennis ball-sized or smaller. I'm sure he couldn't swallow a tennis ball with it's furry exterior, but I'm not willing to take that chance.
After we had all settled, I had Kyle take the attached photos of Ray, the ball, and myself. Even though it had almost killed him, Ray still wanted the ball back.
