Seize the Oreo

No, not the Oreo cookie! I must say, that I do love some Oreo cookies! Well, I acutally I really only love them in cookies-n-cream ice cream. But I am getting way off topic here.

I am talking about Oreo, the dog. This is Oreo (see picture). Oreo belongs to Big Willy and Puffin and has been a part of the family for the past 1.5 years. He is a rescue dog that my parents adopted from the local SPCA/animal shelter in Dare County. My parents had already adopted one dog, Dolly, when Big Willy told the staff to call him when they got in "another ugly dog." Well, a few weeks later, Big Willy and Puffin received a call from the staff at the animal shelter saying they had an "ugly dog" and thought Big Willy should come in and take a look. It was love at first sight, and Oreo (as the shelter had already named him) became a part of the family.

Oreo is a "cool" dog. He's about as laid back as a dog can get. He just chills.

The picture above doesn't do him justice at how odd he really looks. He has the legs of a Corgi (which you can kind of see in the pic...see...his front right paw is stretched out as far as it will go), and he's got this weird tuft of white hair growing along with his eyelashes (see the little white bit on the bottom portion of his left eye).

Oreo doesn't stand much. His body is almost too heavy for his legs (even though my parents have had him on a diet for quite some time now). He's already had knee surgury. He can't jump on or off of furniture.

Oreo's little short legs and fat body became a problem for me on my most recent visit to see my parents.

It was Saturday morning, and Nae-Nae and I were just waking up. Big Willy was out and about already and Puffin was still in bed, too. Nae-Nae heard my parent's dogs (they have 3) outside of the door, so he opened the door to let them. He decided to put all 5 dogs in the bed, so he, of course, had to pick-up Oreo to get Oreo on the bed.

After playing around with all of the dogs on the bed for a few minutes, I decided it was time for all of the dogs to have a potty break. I got out of bed and started walking out of the room. Marlee (my dog) jumped off the bed and got caught on the foot board and landed with a "thud." Uh-oh. I watched her limp around for a minute.

In the midst of Marlee limping and the 3 of the other dogs circling around chaotically, Nae-Nae asked me to put Oreo down so that he could go out, too. I walked back into the room, and grabbed Oreo to put him on the floor. As I picked up Oreo, my arms went weak. Damn! That dog is heavier than I thought! Then there was a big "THUD"! It was a "thud" much worse than the one made by Marlee just a minute before. Oopsie! I dropped Oreo!

But, now, there was a real uh-oh. Oreo was not standing up. He was squirming around on the floor. A million things started running through my head; the main thought being that I had just undone the knee surgery and broken all of his legs. I pulled on his legs and encourage him to stand up. I tried to get him to stand-up.

While all of this was happening, Nae-Nae laid on the bed and repeatedly said, "You hurt the dog! You really hurt the dog!" In my mind I was thinking, "Now, just be quiet! I know the dog is hurt! I don't need you pointing it out that it's my fault Oreo is hurt. I know it's my fault."

I needed to do something and quick! Ah-ha, I thought! Oreo can't stand up because he's on a hardwood floor and can't get the traction he needs. So I scooped him with much more awareness of his true weight and ran out to the carpeted area in the living room. Ok, Oreo! Get up! Get up! Walk! Again, Oreo is squirming around, and I can't figure out which of his legs are really hurt.

And here comes Nae-Nae, AGAIN, yelling, "Stinky, you hurt the dog! Oh my God! You've really hurt the dog! He can't walk!"

Okay! Panic! I ran upstairs in that "fight or flight" panic, and I woke-up Puffin saying, "I've hurt Oreo! He won't stand up." I ran back downstairs, and Nae-Nae is holding Oreo. He told me that Oreo was now shaking. Uggh! What have I done to this most sweet dog?

Puffin rolls on downstairs, takes one look at Oreo, and says, "Oh, he's just having a seizure." What? A seizure? She grabbed a couple of towels to wrap around him and said we would just to wait it out. Apparently, Oreo has had this happen before.

We waited it seemed like forever. But it did end, and Oreo was okay! Before we knew it, he was up and running around with the rest of the dogs. It was like nothing had happened! Whew! Thank goodness!

We're not sure what caused the seizure. He could have already been seizing and was not able to catch himself when I dropped him. Or my dropping him on the floor could have caused the seizure. I like to think it was the former rather than the latter.

But the good news is (and this is a particular shout-out to Nae-Nae), I DID NOT HURT THE DOG! I REALLY DID NOT HURT THE DOG!


  1. "But...I didn't mean to!"

    -Stinky (whenever ANYTHING happens)

  2. Oh goodness! heart. in. stomach.
    glad Oreo is (relatively) okay!

  3. husbands are to be providers and listeners, not speakers :) sj


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