Mans best friend
 

:1orglaugh :1orglaugh hahahaha!!!!

Dogs that bite are not ordinarily lavished with praise, but Jerry Douthett's little dog Kiko is being hailed as a lifesaver.

Kiko apparently sensed an infection festering in his master's right big toe ? and chewed most of it off after Douthett passed out in a drunken stupor.

A trip to the hospital confirmed Douthett's digit required amputation, and Kiko is being heralded by his owner for helping him realize he has been suffering from Type 2 diabetes. Douthett had a dangerously high blood-sugar level of 560 when admitted ? many times the recommended 80 to 120.

"Jerry had had all these Margaritas, so I just let him sleep," said his wife, Rosee, a registered nurse. "But then I heard these screams coming from the bedroom, and he was yelling, 'My toe's gone, my toe's gone!'"

The Rockford man's strange odyssey began several months ago when he started picking at what he thought was a small sliver on the bottom of his toe. He used a knife to cut skin away from the affected area, but it worsened, swelling so much he had to eschew shoes and resort to loose-fitting sandals.

"I was hiding it from people, Rosee included," said Douthett, 48, who is a musician and a well-known wheeler-dealer in Rockford, where he was born and raised.

"It smelled, and I look back now and realize every time we'd visit someone with a dog, their dog would be sniffing all over my foot."

Things escalated several weeks ago. "One day I was lying down working on a car and Rosee saw my foot, and she looked as though she'd seen a ghost," he said. "We've got to go to the hospital," he remembers her insisting.

Rosee suspected her husband was a diabetes candidate and urged him many times to be checked. He resisted, however, fearing the diagnosis. His brother died some years back from complications of diabetes.

Douthett finally decided two Fridays ago to consult medical help, but not before embarking on an outing to muster up some liquid courage.

That afternoon he downed "four or five beers" at a Rockford restaurant, then walked to a second site and quaffed two giant "golden" margaritas. Rosee drove him to their home less than a mile away, where he passed out on their bed.

Next thing the woozy Douthett realized, the couple's year-old Jack Russell terrier was beside him on the bed. A pool of blood lay where Douthett used to have a toe.

"The toe was gone," said Douthett. "He ate it. I mean, he must have eaten it, because we couldn't find it anywhere else in the house. I look down, there's blood all over, and my toe is gone."

Rosee, 40, rushed her husband to the hospital where she's a gerontology nurse ? Spectrum Health's Blodgett Campus. Kiko had gnawed to a point below the nail-line. When tests revealed an infection to the bone, doctors amputated what was left of the toe.

"We see all sorts of problems, and I'm rarely surprised by anything, but I'm tucking this one away as an extreme oddity," said Dr. Russell Lampen, an infectious specialist for Spectrum Health.

Lampen said it was crucial Douthett seek medical help because his glucose level was so high. He believes Douthett didn't immediately awaken partly because of nerve damage caused by diabetes.

"A normal person, even consuming that much alcohol, probably would have awakened much earlier," Lampen said.

The case should stand as a teachable moment for countless people who have uncontrolled diabetes, the doctor said, noting it is easily diagnosed. Douthett can live a healthy life if he watches his diet and manages other aspects of his disease, he said.

During his four-day hospital stay, Douthett said news of his foot's fate spread.

More than once, he said, "Someone would come into my room and say, 'So, what happened to you?' and I'd say, 'My dog ate my toe off,' and they'd crack up and then they'd say, 'OK, so what really happened to you?' and I'd say, 'No, really, my dog ate my toe.'

"Nobody could believe it," Douthett said.

It might not surprise researchers studying the capacity of dogs to sniff out everything from cancer to blood glucose levels. Dogs have up to 220 million olfactory receptors, compared to 50 million or so in humans.

It probably also wouldn't startle Linda Floyd, a 56-year-old diabetic from Illinois, who, two years ago, awakened to discover her miniature dachshund, Roscoe, had gnawed off her right big toe.

Floyd told reporters she had no feeling there because of nerve damage from diabetes, and a veterinarian said the toe had been bandaged because of a healing hangnail.

In Floyd's case, the dog was euthanized, something Douthett initially pursued with animal control officials. He reversed the decision when others pointed out the obvious.

"If it hadn't been for that dog, I could have ended up dead," he said.

Still, the dog is under "house quarantine," ordered by Kent County Animal Shelter Services, and subject to visits from animal control workers watching for signs of rabies. If there are none, the quarantine will be lifted Thursday, Douthett said.

In the meantime, he and friends are trotting out every pun they can think of to lighten the incident. That would include hosting a concert ? a "toe-jam" ? to recognize Kiko, and jokes about how Douthett should patronize eateries like Noto's.

Even before surgery, he said he asked a nurse, "Is there any chance I can get whatever's left of my toe, so I can give it to Kiko as a treat?"

He said she replied, "That's the sickest thing I ever heard."

More seriously, Douthett said he has sworn off alcohol. "For the better part of 48 years, I've had a good run," he said of his partying days.

And as for falling asleep, Douthett said he's not taking any chances. "I don't think Kiko would do it again," he said, "but I wear shoes to bed now."

http://www.mlive.com/news/grand-rapi...s_big_toe.html

Thats disgusting and I am sorry I read that :(

:1orglaugh :1orglaugh :1orglaugh

His wife is a useless nurse.

perfect match for an alcoholic diabetic retard.

When you have a rotting toe and, as the story states he "smelled" it? Maybe he should have taken that as a sign or rotting, deteriorating gangrene and saw a doctor?

I wonder if when the dog finally shits it out... will be a "foot" long? :uhoh :1orglaugh

His wife is a nurse and he's walking around with a rotten toe... what the fuck...

:helpme:helpme:helpme

i still didn't read the whole thing :1orglaugh last thing i read like this was nose maggots and that creeped me out for months! :uhoh

Hi Milfy!

i'd eat that shit too
n

yeah right and im a 90 year old tranny named peaches. :helpme :1orglaugh

Alcohol and canines for the win.

dog saved his dumb ass.

How did his wife even graduate nursing school to begin with? Either that or she needs to get her eyeglass prescription updated

she asked him several times but he was scared. believe it or not he can't be forced to see a doctor unless he's endangering others.

Source: http://jimwillis0.tripod.com/tiergarten/id21.html

Talking about Man's best friend, I'd like to share one of the best stories I've read about dogs lately. It made me hug my 5 chihuahuas extra hard. Enjoy!



When I was a puppy I entertained you with my antics and made you laugh. You called me your child and despite a number of chewed shoes and a couple of murdered throw pillows, I became your best friend. Whenever I was "bad," you'd shake your finger at me and ask "How could you?" - but then you'd relent and roll me over for a bellyrub.

My housetraining took a little longer than expected, because you were terribly busy, but we worked on that together. I remember those nights of nuzzling you in bed, listening to your confidences and secret dreams, and I believed that life could not be any more perfect. We went for long walks and runs in the park, car rides, stops for ice cream (I only got the cone because "ice cream is bad for dogs," you said), and I took long naps in the sun waiting for you to come home at the end of the day.

Gradually, you began spending more time at work and on your career, and more time searching for a human mate. I waited for you patiently, comforted you through heartbreaks and disappointments, never chided you about bad decisions, and romped with glee at your homecomings, and when you fell in love.

She, now your wife, is not a "dog person" - still I welcomed her into our home, tried to show her affection, and obeyed her. I was happy because you were happy. Then the human babies came along and I shared your excitement. I was fascinated by their pinkness, how they smelled, and I wanted to mother them, too. Only she and you worried that I might hurt them, and I spent most of my time banished to another room, or to a dog crate. Oh, how I wanted to love them, but I became a "prisoner of love."

As they began to grow, I became their friend. They clung to my fur and pulled themselves up on wobbly legs, poked fingers in my eyes, investigated my ears and gave me kisses on my nose. I loved everything about them and their touch - because your touch was now so infrequent - and I would have defended them with my life if need be.

I would sneak into their beds and listen to their worries and secret dreams. Together we waited for the sound of your car in the driveway. There had been a time, when others asked you if you had a dog, that you produced a photo of me from your wallet and told them stories about me. These past few years, you just answered "yes" and changed the subject. I had gone from being "your dog" to "just a dog," and you resented every expenditure on my behalf.

Now you have a new career opportunity in another city, and you and they will be moving to an apartment that does not allow pets. You've made the right decision for your "family," but there was a time when I was your only family.

I was excited about the car ride until we arrived at the animal shelter. It smelled of dogs and cats, of fear, of hopelessness. You filled out the paperwork and said "I know you will find a good home for her." They shrugged and gave you a pained look. They understand the realities facing a middle-aged dog or cat, even one with "papers." You had to pry your son's fingers loose from my collar as he screamed "No, Daddy! Please don't let them take my dog!" And I worried for him, and what lessons you had just taught him about friendship and loyalty, about love and responsibility, and about respect for all life. You gave me a goodbye pat on the head, avoided my eyes, and politely refused to take my collar and leash with you. You had a deadline to meet and now I have one, too.

After you left, the two nice ladies said you probably knew about your upcoming move months ago and made no attempt to find me another good home. They shook their heads and asked "How could you?"

They are as attentive to us here in the shelter as their busy schedules allow. They feed us, of course, but I lost my appetite days ago. At first, whenever anyone passed my pen, I rushed to the front, hoping it was you - that you had changed your mind - that this was all a bad dream...or I hoped it would at least be someone who cared, anyone who might save me. When I realized I could not compete with the frolicking for attention of happy puppies, oblivious to their own fate, I retreated to a far corner and waited.

I heard her footsteps as she came for me at the end of the day and I padded along the aisle after her to a separate room. A blissfully quiet room. She placed me on the table, rubbed my ears and told me not to worry. My heart pounded in anticipation of what was to come, but there was also a sense of relief. The prisoner of love had run out of days. As is my nature, I was more concerned about her. The burden which she bears weighs heavily on her and I know that, the same way I knew your every mood.

She gently placed a tourniquet around my foreleg as a tear ran down her cheek. I licked her hand in the same way I used to comfort you so many years ago. She expertly slid the hypodermic needle into my vein. As I felt the sting and the cool liquid coursing through my body, I lay down sleepily, looked into her kind eyes and murmured "How could you?"

Perhaps because she understood my dogspeak, she said "I'm so sorry." She hugged me and hurriedly explained it was her job to make sure I went to a better place, where I wouldn't be ignored or abused or abandoned, or have to fend for myself - a place of love and light so very different from this earthly place. With my last bit of energy, I tried to convey to her with a thump of my tail that my "How could you?" was not meant for her. It was you, My Beloved Master, I was thinking of. I will think of you and wait for you forever.

May everyone in your life continue to show you so much loyalty.

Thanks for making me cry tonight. :(

he walked around with a rotting toe......

I think the toe just looked yummy to the dog.

If you drink so much that you sleep through a dog eating your toe off, you may have a drinking problem.

well the toe was dead so he didn't feel it being chewed off. :Oh crap :helpme :helpme

:1orglaugh:1orglaugh