Theo: Coin swallowing canine gets just desserts

Now told this way I admit Jack’s bit of gastronomic experimentation sounds stupid, but it’s what I call dog-stupid.

And so I report with some sorrow and a twinge of embarrassment the tale of a Jack Russell terrier named (appropriately if unimaginatively) Jack, who swallowed 111 pennies earlier this month and quickly became ill. The 13-year-old pooch’s owner rushed him to a Manhattan

veterinarian where he (the dog, not the vet, and not the owner — I’m still getting the hang of English pronouns) was put under anesthesia and all 111 coins were removed. The zinc from the coins could be lethal (who knew? I’d expect a slight metallic taste, like a fine Greek wine — with a kick but harmless the next morning)

Now told this way I admit Jack’s bit of gastronomic experimentation sounds stupid, but it’s what I call dog-stupid.

Yes dogs do stupid things, such as chase after squirrels when there’s no hope of catching one; and jumping into pond water in the middle of winter, but then again who doesn’t? We don’t go fishing on thin ice. We don’t check smoldering coals on the barbecue by hand to see if they’re hot enough. We don’t get involved in land wars in Asia, and we never drink and drive.

So we are hardly alone in the stupid department, but we are especially dog-stupid about what we put into our mouth, which is just about everything. In our defense this is largely because of our opposable thumb problem, which makes picking things up difficult (including a rifle, hence our success in staying out of wars), but which leaves us quite vulnerable to putting all sorts of silly things down our gullet.



Not to mention that our legitimate diet is rather restricted. We eat the same thing at the same time out of the same bowl and fancy silverware would be pretty much beside the point. So when we get a chance to check out something new there’s a good chance that sooner or later it will wind up between our teeth.

Personally, I favor socks and I’m seldom without one nearby even though I don’t wear them (I’d much rather feel the earth beneath my feet.) I pluck them from the laundry basket; find them under the bed; and often as a household service just excavate them from the pile of clothes on the floor where my master has dropped them after a hard day’s work Socks are quite useful for chewing to relieve anxiety (a fact I’m surprised my master has yet to grasp) and I often wave them around to get attention should I need to go out or if dinner time is approaching. I’ve even buried a few in the yard as you can never tell when you might need a dirty sock on a rainy day.

Of course socks aren’t the only bits of clothing that have met the inside of my cheeks. I’ve been known to chew up gloves, scarves, and the occasional piece of underwear (hardly my first choice for so many reasons.)

But I’m proud to say that I’ve never swallowed anything.

I may be dog-stupid, but I’m not THAT dog-stupid.

Which brings us back to Jack the Jack Terrier. I can happily report that the Manhattan veterinarian methodically removed all 111 coins from Jack’s insides (I shudder to think of the method) and that he (Jack, not the vet) is fully recovered and back to what his owner called his normal self (whatever that is.)

I’d like to say that the experience has left Jack and older but wiser and he will never eat a penny again, but I’m not dog-stupid enough to ever predict what a dog will do.

Instead I’d suggest that Jack’s owner keep his pennies in a piggy bank where they belong. And if Jack feels the need to chew on something, I’d suggest giving him a sock.

See you around the laundry basket.
Theo Chipkin doesn't do email but he can be reached through his agent at rchipkin@repub.com