I notice that Daisy is now walking around, not acting "wrong" per se, but certainly not acting normal. She's also breathing weird. So I walk over to her, she runs away. I then realize something's wrong, so I grab her, and open her mouth. She has 1/3 of a rawhide stuck ALLLLLL the way back in her muppet gullet.
Being the loving dog mom that I am, I reach in there, up to my wrist and yank the thing out. She promptly grabs the end of it with her teeth and swallows it whole. It hasn't gotten any smaller in the 12 seconds since I plunged it from her throat to begin with. So the damn dog is choking on the SAME rawhide. AGAIN.
At this point I am laying on my dog with my ankles locked behind me, because she's trying to wriggle out that way, all the while wheezing. Like "I got it... I got it. Don't worry about me. It'll all go down." She's now got her mouth clamped shut like she does when I try to brush her teeth; it's like trying to get a baby to eat strained squash. I finally get her mouth open with some considerable will. I reach back. AGAIN. It's now gooey and even further back, but still too big to be swallowed. I am having considerable trouble getting a grasp on it, even though now she seems to realize that I am trying to help her and is laying still.
I finally get it out, and my hand is a mess of dog spit and bone-goo. Let me tell you, that is a diet plan in itself. Who wants turkey?? bleccchhhh.
The best part? She tried to get it from me. (AGAIN!!!) She watched it go into the garbeage with the deepest mourning.
Apparently the Doodle was traumatized by said event, because she then cowers under the blanket for the rest of the night. Basically on my lap. All 65 furry pounds of her.
It's a damn good thing she's cute- she's a pain in the ass.