'Skewered': The veterinary lingo for a troublesome issue in dogs - Julian Norton

It looked initially as if this was going to be a simple, routine consultation to register details, meet the new dog and check a lump which had recently appeared on its flank.

There was the usual chat about previous health issues and the dog’s irksome habit of barking almost constantly.

“Although, he’s not barking so much at the moment,” commented his owner, “which is nice. He’s actually become much calmer in the last week.”

I nodded. And then, as if it was entirely incidental, “Oh, and he swallowed a chicken skewer two weeks ago.”

My pet-detective ears pricked up. “And did he definitely swallow the skewer?” I asked, as hungry for exact details as the Irish Terrier had obviously been for chicken morsels.

The response was ambiguous – the chicken skewer had disappeared and the dog had been noticed licking his lips at around the same time.

I set about examining the lump. It was half way down the rib cage on the left side, firm and about the size of a conker.

Now, I’ve felt a lot of lumps on dogs over the years, and this one was rather odd. Firm lumps are not so common and I started to prod it with suspicion.

It reminded me of a spaniel who had come to the practice as a second opinion with the same sort of thing.

After thousands of pounds of tests and an inconclusive answer elsewhere, my colleague Ed had cut over the surface of the lump and pulled out a six-inch wooden skewer.

So, we quickly hatched a plan to book this new patient in for an ultrasound examination.

I explained as fully as I could that wooden things don’t show up on x-rays very well and that ultrasound can be confusing as the waves get distorted.

But when the scan was carried out the next day, there was nothing equivocal about the images.

Nothing in nature – at least in a dog – is perfectly straight, so the image that jumped from the screen of the ultrasound machine was conclusive and the diagnosis sound.

In fact, it was beyond sound – it was ultra-sound (sorry)!

Retrieval was the next job.

Delving deep into the chest cavity can be fraught with complications, so it was with some trepidation that the first cut was made.

Luckily, but perhaps not surprisingly, the tell-tail solid tip of the skewer was not too far away.

With the delicate and careful use of forceps, and a degree of panache, the wooden foreign body was extricated, much like King Arthur freeing Excalibur from the stone of legend.

This sort of thing is always dramatic and satisfying in equal measure. I still remember the first such case I dealt with, many years ago, in an English Pointer.

His owner was adamant that he’d run on to a garden cane, which had immediately disappeared into the dog.

After several weeks, and various attempts, no one had managed to find it, so it was with some relief – especially for the dog – that I managed to locate a foot-long piece of wood, lying alongside his oesophagus, having pierced through its wall rather than continuing into the stomach.

It was difficult to remove but, thankfully, the recovery was complete and uneventful. We all hoped the same would happen after today’s surgery!