Into the Blogosphere

This is the initial posting of my new blog, called KramerPost. It has no theme or purporse or art. Presumably all that will come with time. I'll start by posting one of my columns that never ran in the Syracuse Post-Standard because it ran afoul of ... I'm really not sure. Here's the column ... it was supposed to run last August:

Normally I like to keep it light in this space. but now and then a topic pops up of such urgency that the public’s health and safety must take precedence over entertainment. Such is the case today as I’m ethically bound to discuss a life-threatening medical emergency known as canine paraphimosis.

Earlier this month we were on a family vacation in Massachusetts when the smaller of our two shelter dogs, Rondo -- a buff, Chihuhua-like animal -- experienced what veterinary texts describe as the “red rocket” becoming stuck in the” cleared-for-liftoff position.”

To a lesser degree, this is nothing new. During the two years since we adopted Rondo, we’ve learned that the passionate Chihuahua nature isn’t easily tamed, even by neutering. It’s not unusual for us to be watching a ballgame on TV or an episode of Project Runway and look down to see Rondo, all 13-pounds of him, having his way with our larger co-dog, Larry, whose befuddled expression suggests he’s holding a cancelled ticket to see Bret Michaels perform at the Regional Market.

But this time E.T. wouldn’t go home even after several hours. Credit my 10-year-old daughter, Miranda, for realizing that it had gone on long enough.

“Mommy, call the vet,” she said.

At this point astute readers might be wondering where was I during this family drama. Well, I was holed up in a coffee shop in Great Barrington, Mass. with no cell phone reception, thinking deep, important thoughts. The first I learned of the crisis was when I walked outside and received a text message from Leigh that read. “Rondo’s penis is OK,” which confused me a great deal.

I subsequently learned that Leigh had phoned the nearest VCA clinic and was advised to bring in Rondo ASAP. The staff even agreed to keep the clinic open past the 5 p.m. closing time in anticipation of Rondo’s arrival via high-speed minivan. 

Dr. Vicki June, a 1995 graduate of Cornell Veterinary College, drew the short straw. Although accustomed to seeing the condition in horses, Dr. June had never before encountered a prolapsed Chihuahua penis. Untreated, the condition can be lethal as circulation to the effected zone is compromised. Another, more serious side effect, in Chihuahuas, is severe grouchiness.

Upon arrival at the clinic, Rondo was given a steroid shot . Then it was go-time. I don’t know exactly what went on between Dr. June and Rondo in the treatment room, but I can confirm that a commonly sold “personal lubricant” was deployed. “Actually he was a very good patient,” Dr. June reported. 

 We were lucky. It was a happy ending. I mean it was a successful resolution. Rondo came bounding into the lobby wagging his tail -- and nothing else. 

I only hope that this account of our ordeal contributes to heightened public awareness. If you or your Chihuahua  get stuck in party mode for an hour or more, it’s no laughing matter.  Turn down the Bret Michaels and get help immediately.

-30-