I am a survivor. (photo 1) There are few, if any, canines who eat part of a sago palm and live to write about it. This is my Bichon’s “tail.” I want other living creatures to stop chewing and sniffing around those nasty, yet very attractive, plants. (photo 2)

I didn’t know that sago palms kill. Dad’s landscaper didn’t know they kill. For twenty-five years, my family has had dogs in our back yard living with a large 135-year-old sago palm. There were no problems until I decided to snack on its seeds. None of us knew every part of the plant was poisonous to dogs and it was a sago palm that most likely killed my nine-week four-pound new baby sister just six months ago. She died five days after she “ate something” in our back yard. Even the best Southeast Texas vets couldn’t save her. When mom requested an autopsy, it showed only an overwhelming liver toxicity of unknown source.

Before her death, the three of us (photo 3) were Dad’s “pocket puppies” and his “chick magnets.” Before our loss, I lived a privileged life. (photo 4) I went shopping in New Orleans (photo 5), took leisurely strolls in Waldenburg Park (photo 6), frolicked at a San Antonio dog park (photo 7) and visited the Alamo (photo 8). One trip we even zigzagged Lombard St. in San Francisco. (photo 9)

Was I spoiled? You betcha! (photo 10) Was I bad? No siree!! I went to obedience classes and even got a certificate. I regularly worked out with my athletic neighbor Olivia. (photo 11) Was I cute? Of course! The Times Picayune even printed a photo of me from the Barkus Parade in 2002.

But it all screeched to an awful halt, when I unknowingly ate parts of a sago palm. I got sooooo sick. Mom carried me to Dr. Mike in the French Quarter. He gave me a yucky shot and some liquids and told Mom to take me to the weekend animal emergency hospital if I wasn’t better in six hours.

I didn’t get better. I got worse. I kept puking up stuff. Gross!!! When I got to the hospital the nice vets were sad to tell Mom I might die before too long. My liver was poisoned, but they would try to keep me alive over the weekend.

On Monday morning, I was still alive, but very ill. I was taken to a specialist who treats liver problems. If anyone could save me, maybe Dr. Peter Bondy could. (photo 12) When Dr. B. looked at me, and my medical charts, he told Mom and Dad that it didn’t look good. He had seen previous sago palm poisonings, but sadly, none made it.

Mom cried and cried. She asked everyone she knew to pray for me. (photo 13) And, they must have done a real good job, cuz, guess what? After seven weeks in the hospital, I was a veterinarian’s miracle case. (photo 14)

Now I am going home. (photo 15) The sago palm is no longer a problem. Thanks to you all.

Laissez les bon temps rouler!!!! (photos 16 and 17)


Bolero