1. I don't know what Gibbs swallowed, but he came in the house honking and upset that that he kept making sounds as if he were trying to clear his throat or throw up. He was breathing fine. His appetite was unaffected. But, something wasn't right.
No vets are available in the Silver Valley on Sunday, so I drove Debbie and Gibbs, first to the emergency vet in CdA where the wait would be two hours and then to the emergency vet in Post Falls where Gibbs got right in to see the vet.
X-rays showed no obstruction in Gibbs' esophagus or windpipe.
The vet said that he had gotten rid of whatever he'd swallowed, but that his windpipe/esophagus was irritated and that's why the spasms continued periodically, why he made sounds like he was going to vomit.
She prescribed meds for this inflammation/irritation and we returned to Kellogg.
Gibbs is more relaxed.
He continues to make the sounds that alarmed us much less frequently.
I'm pretty sure Debbie will make a follow up visit to our vet in Kellogg later in the week.
2. We were back home from our trip to Post Falls very early in the afternoon and had plenty of time to get ready to host family dinner.
Debbie wanted to prepare today's meal and she cooked Mississippi Kielbasa in the crock pot and fixed fried corn and mashed potatoes to go along with it. She bought some frozen fig and orange stuffed phyllo snacks that I air fried as an appetizer.
Christy brought a refreshing cucumber, lime, and pineapple salad and Paul and Carol provided fizzy water and wine for beverages.
This was a very tasty and satisfying meal and, for dessert, Debbie and I served frozen coconut bars.
3. Our conversation ranged all over the place. Gardening. Debbie's job. Books, especially American fiction -- how John Steinbeck, Arthur Miller, Mark Twain, F. Scott Fitzgerald, Toni Morrison, and many other American writers tell stories that provide American readers a way to self-examine the contrast between assumed American values and the realities of American life.
I'm getting a big dose of this kind of exploration as I read more deeply into Steinbeck's East of Eden and am experiencing deeper appreciation than ever for this kind of self-examination and inquiry.
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