On Dogs and Chewing Gum

They are, as it turns out, a bad combination.

Last night, while watching some crappy Sunday night programming, my roommate, let's call her "Rachel," got up from the sofa to get something out of her bedroom.

To provide a little back story, Rachel's chihuahua has been spending some decent amount of time confined in her bedroom as of late because the dog has become, how shall I say, "testy" (to put it politely, and so as not to be offensive to sensitive ears) in the past 6 months. Why the bedroom? Why the confinement? Let's just say, to quote one of my favorite Steve Martin movies, "to prevent [her] from hurting [herself], and others."

Shortly after Rachel left the sofa I heard her growl the words "YOU LITTLE SHIT."

Keeping in mind the back story, I was not taken aback as these are words I hear often.

"Carter!*" (Rachel's significant other) "Did you have gum in your bag?"

"What?!"

At this point I became curious enough to motivate myself off of the sofa and into Rachel's bedroom. I imagined entering the bedroom to find the dog with so much bubble gum in her mouth that she could barely close her jaws. I imagined her blowing incidental bubbles from the struggle, but refusing to relinquish the gum when commanded to do so.

Instead, there in the midst of Rachel's spotless white carpet, sat the shreds of what had once been a new pack of Orbit peppermint gum. The gum itself was nowhere to be found, and only the remains of a few paper gum wrappers lay strewn about on the floor. The package and the tinfoil seal appeared to be in tact, save for some serious gnawing. The chihuahua, Costello*, sat stoically atop Rachel's pristine white down comforter with her body facing us, but looking out of the adjacent window. She would not make eye contact.

I glared at the dog, "you're an idiot."


Carter entered the room behind me. "My bag was closed!" Costello had opened a closed Timbuk2 messenger bag, found the gum, and then opened the seal before eating every single piece of gum in the package.

Rachel picked up the remains of the chewing gum package, aghast. As she turned the gnawed remains over and over in her hands, I lost interest and went back into the living room.

A few minutes later Rachel stormed out of her bedroom, once again holding the gum package, and said "Do you think this is bad for her?!"

"Check the internet."

A few minutes after that Carter shuffled into my bedroom and asked for the telephone number of the emergency vet I had taken my dog to a few months back (when she decided that a cigarette butt she found on the sidewalk looked like a tasty treat**).

Apparently, sugar-free gum contains a sugar alcohol called Xylitol. Not only was the vet concerned about liver and kidney damage because Costello had ingested so much of it, but she was worried about her going into hypoglycemic shock (from my understanding, the gum had essentially made her a temporary diabetic).

The Wikipedia entry on Xylitol states:

Xylitol, like most sugar alcohols, can have a laxative effect, because sugar alcohols are not fully broken down during digestion. It has no known toxicity, and people have consumed as much as 400 grams daily for long periods with no apparent ill effects.

Dogs ingesting foods containing high doses of xylitol (greater than 100mg xylitol consumed per kg bodyweight) have presented with low blood sugar (hypoglycemia) which can be life-threatening. Low blood sugar can manifest as loss of coordination, depression, collapse and seizures as soon as 30 minutes after ingestion. Intake of very high doses of xylitol (greater than 500 - 1000 mg/kg bwt) has also been implicated in liver failure in 8 dogs, which can be fatal.

One reported death occurred in a standard poodle who ate five or six cookies sweetened with xylitol.

Dogs that have eaten products containing high levels of xylitol might need immediate medical attention even if they are not yet showing illness. Sick dogs (vomiting, weak, seizuring, etc) are likely to need aggressive veterinary treatment and close monitoring of blood values.

Carter and Rachel hauled Costello off to the emergency vet at 11pm last night. Once there, Costello received epomorphine, an iv, and had her glucose levels and liver enzymes monitored for the whole night. Before they went though, Animal Poison Control told them to feed her a spoonful of vanilla ice cream (soy cream in this case), and a slice of bread -- the ice cream was to give her glucose and the bread was to absorb the Xylitol, thereby slowing her body's absorption of it too. Costello probably thought she'd hit the mother load until she realized she was going to the vet.

Costello returned bright and early this morning, largely unscathed except for the place where the vet shaved her leg to insert the IV.

As Rachel prepared to take Carter to the airport this morning, she asked if I would watch Costello (I have MLK jr. day off). I hesitated. Costello and I have a colorful past that includes, but is not limited to: urinating on beds, urinating on carpets, biting, urinating on clothing, urinating in closets, biting, pooping in front of a policeman, dropping, kicking, biting, squealing, screaming, biting, bruising, and bleeding - but I'm not going to say who did what or anything.

"Fine."

So far Costello has stayed curled in her bed, being absolutely lethargic and unresponsive to anything I say to her. I tried to give her a treat and she growled and tried to bite me (but lazily, so she didn't get anywhere near my hand). I'm glad she is back to her good-old self.



*The names have been changed to protect the innocent and stupid.

** Bear in mind both of our dogs weigh 7 lbs, respectively, so little bits of bad things can be toxic to them - ridiculous as it sounds.

(I have no idea why the leading is messed up after the Wiki entry, but I'll keep trying to fix it.)