more wrigley love.

Things are much improved on the Wrigley front, a full week after we picked him up from MedVets in Columbus. Last Saturday, he kind of laid low; he was full of meds, tired and discombobulated, and he was wary of eating much. Through the weekend and into the week, we saw marked improvement every day in his energy level, appetite and ability to sleep through the night. All was looking good ...

Until ...

On Wednesday, I came home at noon to let him out and discovered on the kitchen floor the handle (only) of his doggie toothbrush and the plastic cap and shards metal from the tube of chicken-flavored toothpaste. Seems our not-so-smart friend, honked off at being locked in the kitchen all day, raided his toothbrush and toothpaste from the box o' dog accouterments by the back door and ATE them. As in, ingested.

After a frantic call to Dr. Bev (again) I drove him up to her office for a quick X-ray. Sure enough, there was the bristle head of his toothbrush. The X-ray didn't reveal any brain, however. Keep in mind that after about 6 weeks of intestinal inflammation that we'd just finally gotten ahead of, having abrasive material in his GI tract was NOT a good thing.

So we waited.

Sure enough, Wrigley urped up the toothbrush and larger bits of the metal tube overnight Wednesday night, and then rid himself of the smaller shards of tube over the past couple of days. I think we've cleared things out of the system at this point.

Regardless, we took Wigs to Findlay Market today, where he charmed the crowd as usual. One lady we'd met before said, "It's a good day when I get to say hi to this dog." Yesterday on our walk, a gal told us she sees us walking in the neighborhood all the time, and that Wrigley always makes her smile.

This is Wrigley's job: making people smile. And our job is taking care of Wrigley.