R-E-L-I-E-F

Joy and celebration across the land!! With a little help from a second vet, Marlo barfed up the remains of the errant tennis ball late this morning.

We are absolutely overwhelmed with gratitude for this ending to the foreign-object adventure.  Here's how the saga unfolded...

Saturday morning a vet from Friday called to check in on Marlo. He strongly urged that we bring Marlo back in for the surgery since nothing had passed yet.

But Marlo was in good spirits, he was still enthusiastically eating, and we wanted to give it more time.

We read all sorts of opinions on the internet, and decided to add some pureed pumpkin to his cottage cheese and rice diet as a rich source of fiber that might encourage poop.  Then mid-day, Mike had a brilliant idea. We took Marlo to Ft. Funston - both his favorite place in the city to run around, and a place he simply can't resist poo-ing with gusto all over the Ice Plant groundcover. There, Marlo got a bit out, but it seemed painful, and certainly offered us nothing to celebrate.

Again at dinner, Marlo wolfed down his dish and was acting himself, if a little mellower than usual, for the rest of the night. But when Sunday morning did not elicit a poop, we agreed to take him in to a new vet for a second opinion.

This visit lacked the urgent, emergency nature of the first visit, and the veterinarian was much more comfortable offering an array of options. We could induce vomiting, scope the object out, or go to surgery.

Since Marlo hadn't vomited in 36 hours, that seemed like the easiest (and cheapest) step to try first.

As the nurse took him back for his opiate-based shot, Mike and I returned to the waiting room to worry about our finances and plan for the worst. Less than 10 minutes later, however, we were called back to the exam room, the relieved veterinarian proudly displaying 1/3 of a tennis ball covered in sticky vomit on a surgical sheet. Hoorays, high-fives and hugs for all!

Now the poor pup's a bit woozy and wobbly from the drug, but ultimately should be no worse for wear.

Thank you to all of our friends and loved ones who were rooting for a happy ending. We're so relieved we got one.

And to our tennis ball eating dog... never again, buddy. Never again.