Along time ago, I worked for a veterinary hospital fixing the x-ray equipment.
One day, we had a dog who was brought in acting very oddly. The dog did not want to be touched or anything. But, somehow, upon arriving at the hospital, the dog seemed to calm down and cooperate, the exact opposite reaction of most dogs coming to the vet. Based on symptoms, the doctor suspected an internal injury. The dog permitted a very careful lift onto the x-ray table. I was given the film cartridge to take into the dark room, open, remove the film, and run through the automatic deleloper machine. As I brought the film out and hung it up on the viewer, I said, "Doctor, I don't think this will be a very difficult case."
"Oh do you doctor Gollnick? I'll be the judge of that," as he switched on the viewer and everyone could see... a large kitchen knife clearly identifiable in the dog's gut.
"Ah ha! That's where that knife went!" shriked the wife.
"How are we going to get it out?" asked the husband.
"Doctor, I paged Dr. Robertson. He is on his way," I told the radiologist, Dr. Robertson being the small animal surgeon on duty at the time.
The dog honestly seemed to understand, maybe sensed the feelig of understanding in the room, and was now calm and permitted the children to pet him... gently.
The dog came through surgery like a champ and, once up again, seemed to conciously want to go around and thank everyone at the hospital who had helped out, even me and all I did was feed the film into the machine.
Anyway, the dog recovered quickly and completely and I started feeding that film into another machine, the x-ray copier, because we probably got 5000 requests from all over the world for copies of that film. And the knife? The family donate it to the School's museum of veterinary oddities.
So, if a dog can survive swallowing a 8" kitchen knife, it can survive a bit of glass too. Just keep a close eye on him.
