For some reason Blogger is having trouble with Cyrillic text right now, but that's supposed to say "Хөөрхий нохой," and it's pronounced "khoorkhii nokhoi" which means "poor dog," an understatement for what Jagaa has become over the last week. Here's the story.

As I said in my last entry, Jagaa was scheduled to get spayed on Tuesday, which is exactly what happened. She stayed out of the buckwheat and Bob, Geoff, Zoloo, and I brought her into the veterinary clinic at Merrie's school that morning. The operation was also an opportunity for studying vet students to practice this sort of thing, so they did it for free. Things went off pretty well, even if the general anesthesia didn't completely knock Jagaa out. She spent the next few days wandering around in apparent confusion, being generally sore. I felt bad, so I got a painkilling suppository recommended by Enkhjargal, the vet who oversaw the procedure, which did a lot to lift her spirits, in spite of the fact that I had to shove it up her butt. Overall she was in pretty good spirits, except when we had to change her bandages. She really hated that. Let's just say I have lots of nice bite marks on my hands now. Thankfully Susanne was happy to help me. And on Thursday I bought her a muzzle, which proved to be an invaluable investment. Best five thousand tugriks I ever spent.

So this is where the story gets pretty... upsetting, shall we say. If you have a weak stomach, you may want to stop reading. Either way, rest assured that Jagaa is fine now.
On Friday night, I brought Jagaa over to Danny's house where everyone was hanging out so that I could have some help changing her bandages. This proved to be an excellent decision. Changing her bandages involves drizzling iodine over the stitches to keep them clean, and I find the easiest way to do this is holding her in my lap. I didn't want to get any iodine on my dress pants, so I took those off first. That also proved to be an excellent decision. Bob, Geoff, and I took her into the kitchen, strapped on the muzzle, and removed her bandages. I put her in between my legs on my lap. She started renching back and forth trying to get free, and while we were calming her, we noticed that there was a surprising amount of blood. Almost immediately after that, about five inches worth of her intestines popped through her skin. Her stitches had burst. The three of us exchanged expletives and, not knowing how serious this might be, I went into a kind of adrenaline-soaked shock, quickly swallowing the realization that this dog might die in my arms tonight. Just like that awful eighties song. Except much much worse.
Of course, this development only made Jagaa more upset. Fortunately she couldn't quite see what was going on because of the way I was holding her, but she knew something was up. Geoff and I did our best to hold her steady. We didn't want her intestines to slide off her stomach and touch the floor. Meanwhile, Bob, who is a wilderness first responder and did a great job taking charge of the situation, began trying to get a hold of Enkhjargal. But it was Friday night, so this was no easy task. After getting no answer for several minutes, we realized we'd need to try other avenues. Right around this time, the shock of the whole situation coupled with the big dinner she'd recently eaten caused Jagaa to vomit. A lot. With the muzzle on. We wrestled it off as quickly as we could, and so of course as soon as she finished, she started biting again. Furthermore, the stomach convulsions caused another five inches of intestine or so to pop through her skin. There was now less than an inch between the floor and her innards. Jason, a volunteer and former premed major who lives in a soum four hours northwest of the city, happened to be in for the weekend, and he also proved himself to be a great hero that night. He got a pair of latex gloves out of the medkit and disinfected some gauze to lay over the intestines. His job then became holding Jagaa's intestines, which he did admirably.
Bob called Karen, the vet in UB, to see what she might recommend. She was extremely helpful and assured us that, even if we couldn't get in touch with the local vet, this was not a life-threatening situation until the next morning, so long as we could press her intestines back into her stomach and wrap her up tight until she could get sewn back up. Fortunately, soon thereafter, we did get through to the vet, and Bob, Merrie, and our Mongolian friend Monkhtuya rushed out to pick her up, get her operating materials, and bring her back to Danny's. I'm kind of a wussy with this kind of stuff, and between the vomit and the visible intestines, I began feeling super light-headed. Danny was good enough to take over for me while I got some fresh hour and called Kaede for a little emotional support.
Things were stable in the kitchen. Danny had her head, Joel had her hind legs, and Jason had her intestines. They sat there like saints in piles of dog puke while we waited about forty-five minutes for the others to show back up with Enkhjargal and one of her students. Once they did, we transferred Jagaa onto the table and Enkhjargal gave her a couple of shots of local anesthesia. Because of the potential for there being more food in her stomach, general anesthesia was not an option. This proved to be a major bummer. Speaking of food left in her stomach, Jagaa vomited another two or three times over the course of the evening. These times we just turned her head and let it drain out of the holes in her muzzle. It was not worth dealing with trying to get it on and off of her each time.
Enkhjargal washed off Jagaa's intestines and began carefully pressing them back inside. It was a slow process, but eventually she got it done. Fortunately, this part didn't seem to bother Jagaa too much. The next part did. They splashed the opening with disinfectant, which must have stung like crazy, because Jagaa started bucking and screaming with everything she had. The poor dog probably thought we were slowly killing her. At this point, I was on her head, Danny had her forearms and upper body, and Jason was holding her hindlegs. By the time they finished stitching her back up, all three of us were sweating from the effort of holding her down. Strong dog. It took around forty-five minutes because she was fighting so much, and consequently the student had a lot of difficulty being precise.

So they wrapped her back up and gave her a shot of antibiotics, and I cleaned the vomit off of her as best I could. Then we carefully lifted her off the table and brought her to a little bed in the other room. She looked terrified and it took her a while to nod off, but she didn't move much. She must have been incredibly exhausted. Enkhjargal recommended that I feed her a lot less, try to keep her from moving around, and stop the painkillers, as they'd given her a false sense of security and allowed her to jump around more. I spent the night at Danny's so I could keep an eye on her, as we didn't want to deal with getting her back to my apartment. It was a restless night for both of us. I was worried about her wandering around, and she probably had a lot of trouble getting comfortable.
After the whole procedure had finished, Bob offered to bring Jagaa in with him to UB. All the M20s are heading in for their Close of Service conference this week. So the next morning, I called Karen again and asked her what she thought of that idea. She said bringing her into would be best. That way, if something did happen, they could stitch her up properly, and while they were in there, give the intestines a good cleaning as well as do a complete spay. Mongolians only tie the tubes, while Americans generally remove the uterus and ovaries to avoid future complications. Kaede and I were planning to have that done if we decided to bring her back to the states anyway, and after her guts fell out in my arms, the likelihood of me bringing her back shot way up. I told Karen all this, and she said we may as well just do it now and get it over with.
So that's where Jagaa is right now, at the vet in UB, undergoing her third surgery of the week. At least this time she's completely anesthetized, and we know the stitches are going to be top-notch, if you'll excuse the pun. Thank god I just got my federal tax return, because all of this is gonna cost more than I make in a month. My friend Angie has been gracious enough to agree to take care of her for the rest of the week, since Bob will be too busy with the conference. She'll fly back next Sunday and go straight to Danny's house, since I'm heading to UB the next morning. I'll of course go see her that night. It's so weird after having stressed out so much over her health the last week for it to be so suddenly out of my hands. By the time I have her back, two weeks from now, she'll probably be right as rain.
Anyway, Friday was probably the hardest night of my life. It certainly was for Jagaa. And the rest of the weekend wasn't much better, since I spent it scrambling around trying to prepare all the paperwork and whatnot that is necessary to put a dog on a plane around here, worrying about her all the while. But yeah, it's over now. And it's barely a week til I'm in UB with Kaede again! You can imagine I'm pretty pumped about that.
Also on the bright side, Susanne left me with this adorably meek little creature while she's in UB for the conference. His name is Pity Cat, and he makes me smile.
As I said in my last entry, Jagaa was scheduled to get spayed on Tuesday, which is exactly what happened. She stayed out of the buckwheat and Bob, Geoff, Zoloo, and I brought her into the veterinary clinic at Merrie's school that morning. The operation was also an opportunity for studying vet students to practice this sort of thing, so they did it for free. Things went off pretty well, even if the general anesthesia didn't completely knock Jagaa out. She spent the next few days wandering around in apparent confusion, being generally sore. I felt bad, so I got a painkilling suppository recommended by Enkhjargal, the vet who oversaw the procedure, which did a lot to lift her spirits, in spite of the fact that I had to shove it up her butt. Overall she was in pretty good spirits, except when we had to change her bandages. She really hated that. Let's just say I have lots of nice bite marks on my hands now. Thankfully Susanne was happy to help me. And on Thursday I bought her a muzzle, which proved to be an invaluable investment. Best five thousand tugriks I ever spent.
So this is where the story gets pretty... upsetting, shall we say. If you have a weak stomach, you may want to stop reading. Either way, rest assured that Jagaa is fine now.
On Friday night, I brought Jagaa over to Danny's house where everyone was hanging out so that I could have some help changing her bandages. This proved to be an excellent decision. Changing her bandages involves drizzling iodine over the stitches to keep them clean, and I find the easiest way to do this is holding her in my lap. I didn't want to get any iodine on my dress pants, so I took those off first. That also proved to be an excellent decision. Bob, Geoff, and I took her into the kitchen, strapped on the muzzle, and removed her bandages. I put her in between my legs on my lap. She started renching back and forth trying to get free, and while we were calming her, we noticed that there was a surprising amount of blood. Almost immediately after that, about five inches worth of her intestines popped through her skin. Her stitches had burst. The three of us exchanged expletives and, not knowing how serious this might be, I went into a kind of adrenaline-soaked shock, quickly swallowing the realization that this dog might die in my arms tonight. Just like that awful eighties song. Except much much worse.
Of course, this development only made Jagaa more upset. Fortunately she couldn't quite see what was going on because of the way I was holding her, but she knew something was up. Geoff and I did our best to hold her steady. We didn't want her intestines to slide off her stomach and touch the floor. Meanwhile, Bob, who is a wilderness first responder and did a great job taking charge of the situation, began trying to get a hold of Enkhjargal. But it was Friday night, so this was no easy task. After getting no answer for several minutes, we realized we'd need to try other avenues. Right around this time, the shock of the whole situation coupled with the big dinner she'd recently eaten caused Jagaa to vomit. A lot. With the muzzle on. We wrestled it off as quickly as we could, and so of course as soon as she finished, she started biting again. Furthermore, the stomach convulsions caused another five inches of intestine or so to pop through her skin. There was now less than an inch between the floor and her innards. Jason, a volunteer and former premed major who lives in a soum four hours northwest of the city, happened to be in for the weekend, and he also proved himself to be a great hero that night. He got a pair of latex gloves out of the medkit and disinfected some gauze to lay over the intestines. His job then became holding Jagaa's intestines, which he did admirably.
Bob called Karen, the vet in UB, to see what she might recommend. She was extremely helpful and assured us that, even if we couldn't get in touch with the local vet, this was not a life-threatening situation until the next morning, so long as we could press her intestines back into her stomach and wrap her up tight until she could get sewn back up. Fortunately, soon thereafter, we did get through to the vet, and Bob, Merrie, and our Mongolian friend Monkhtuya rushed out to pick her up, get her operating materials, and bring her back to Danny's. I'm kind of a wussy with this kind of stuff, and between the vomit and the visible intestines, I began feeling super light-headed. Danny was good enough to take over for me while I got some fresh hour and called Kaede for a little emotional support.
Things were stable in the kitchen. Danny had her head, Joel had her hind legs, and Jason had her intestines. They sat there like saints in piles of dog puke while we waited about forty-five minutes for the others to show back up with Enkhjargal and one of her students. Once they did, we transferred Jagaa onto the table and Enkhjargal gave her a couple of shots of local anesthesia. Because of the potential for there being more food in her stomach, general anesthesia was not an option. This proved to be a major bummer. Speaking of food left in her stomach, Jagaa vomited another two or three times over the course of the evening. These times we just turned her head and let it drain out of the holes in her muzzle. It was not worth dealing with trying to get it on and off of her each time.
Enkhjargal washed off Jagaa's intestines and began carefully pressing them back inside. It was a slow process, but eventually she got it done. Fortunately, this part didn't seem to bother Jagaa too much. The next part did. They splashed the opening with disinfectant, which must have stung like crazy, because Jagaa started bucking and screaming with everything she had. The poor dog probably thought we were slowly killing her. At this point, I was on her head, Danny had her forearms and upper body, and Jason was holding her hindlegs. By the time they finished stitching her back up, all three of us were sweating from the effort of holding her down. Strong dog. It took around forty-five minutes because she was fighting so much, and consequently the student had a lot of difficulty being precise.
So they wrapped her back up and gave her a shot of antibiotics, and I cleaned the vomit off of her as best I could. Then we carefully lifted her off the table and brought her to a little bed in the other room. She looked terrified and it took her a while to nod off, but she didn't move much. She must have been incredibly exhausted. Enkhjargal recommended that I feed her a lot less, try to keep her from moving around, and stop the painkillers, as they'd given her a false sense of security and allowed her to jump around more. I spent the night at Danny's so I could keep an eye on her, as we didn't want to deal with getting her back to my apartment. It was a restless night for both of us. I was worried about her wandering around, and she probably had a lot of trouble getting comfortable.
After the whole procedure had finished, Bob offered to bring Jagaa in with him to UB. All the M20s are heading in for their Close of Service conference this week. So the next morning, I called Karen again and asked her what she thought of that idea. She said bringing her into would be best. That way, if something did happen, they could stitch her up properly, and while they were in there, give the intestines a good cleaning as well as do a complete spay. Mongolians only tie the tubes, while Americans generally remove the uterus and ovaries to avoid future complications. Kaede and I were planning to have that done if we decided to bring her back to the states anyway, and after her guts fell out in my arms, the likelihood of me bringing her back shot way up. I told Karen all this, and she said we may as well just do it now and get it over with.
So that's where Jagaa is right now, at the vet in UB, undergoing her third surgery of the week. At least this time she's completely anesthetized, and we know the stitches are going to be top-notch, if you'll excuse the pun. Thank god I just got my federal tax return, because all of this is gonna cost more than I make in a month. My friend Angie has been gracious enough to agree to take care of her for the rest of the week, since Bob will be too busy with the conference. She'll fly back next Sunday and go straight to Danny's house, since I'm heading to UB the next morning. I'll of course go see her that night. It's so weird after having stressed out so much over her health the last week for it to be so suddenly out of my hands. By the time I have her back, two weeks from now, she'll probably be right as rain.
Anyway, Friday was probably the hardest night of my life. It certainly was for Jagaa. And the rest of the weekend wasn't much better, since I spent it scrambling around trying to prepare all the paperwork and whatnot that is necessary to put a dog on a plane around here, worrying about her all the while. But yeah, it's over now. And it's barely a week til I'm in UB with Kaede again! You can imagine I'm pretty pumped about that.
Also on the bright side, Susanne left me with this adorably meek little creature while she's in UB for the conference. His name is Pity Cat, and he makes me smile.

