The numbers 7 and 11 are sometimes thought to be lucky. Gamblers play them, hoping to strike it big at casinos. Families on boardwalks are known to put their coins on those same numbers, hoping to win dolls, toys, or whatever for their kids when the spinning wheel lands on one of them. Board games sometimes rewards players with another turn for throwing a 7 or 11 with the dice. Even lottery players keep their fingers crossed as the drawing time approaches, praying their lucky 7 and 11 are part of the winning combination that'll make them rich.

So, when the date 7/11 turned up on the calendar, one might think that it would be a lucky day for all. Not so for one certain Shetland Sheepdog who just happens to reside with us.....

The date was July 11, 2006. Numerically, that's 7/11. As expounded above, the numbers 7 and 11 are considered by some (most?) folks to be lucky. This essay is by no means meant to be a treatise to explain why the numbers are lucky. Rather, it'll merely describe how Lily, our kind, beautiful, loving Sheltie had an incident that almost resulted in a trajedy on the "lucky" date of 7/11.

My bride brushes our dogs' teeth. This is done for two reasons: it keeps their teeth healthy and aides in preventing dog breath. Readers who frequent the Presto Dog web site know that our pack consists of three Shetalnd Sheepdogs (Lyric, Lily and Declan) and a Collie named Douglas. What they may not know is that the aforementioned Lyric is a food stealer and heartilly subscribes to the addage:

Food belonging to other dogs fits this criteria so it's fair game for Lyric. So our other four-footed friends are all wary of her antics and react accordingly to her presence while they're eating.

Probably the favorite aspect of the nightly Festival of Tooth Brushing at our house is the distribution of dog biscuits (a.k.a. "cookies") upon completion of the event. Each dog is given a biscuit for being good and proceeds to chomp away at the treat. Since Lyric is a thief, the other dogs scarf their cookies down so she can't steal their just rewards. On the "lucky" date of 7/11, Lily took her cookies nicely from my bride and scampered into the living room to devour it as quickly as she could to twart any attempt at pilferage by Lyric.

As my family members can attest, my favorite dessert of all time is ice cream. I'm not one who drinks, smokes, sky dives, rides a motorcycle or wrestles alligators. I have been known, however, to imbide a trough of ice cream smothered with buckets of chocolate syrup. Sadly, I do realize that my proclivity for this tasty treat is going to be noticed by some cholesterol-watching, blood pressure monitoring, cellulite-conscious doctor who's sure to some day utter those words we all love to hear: "Better cut that stuff out of your diet if you want to live to be a ripe old age." Rather than state my dislike for anyone who might instill some good sense on me, let's go back to Lily's issue.

As I took the dish of sinfully frozen delight into our living room I thought it was just a bit odd that Lily didn't sidle up to me, showing me her sad little moon eyes to coerce me into giving her some of my stash. Looking around, I saw her with her head down over by the TV. I thought that was strange, and then realized she appeared to be in distress. Calling to my bride, I put the ice cream down and immediately went to Lily.

Upon her arrival, my bride, being more level-headed than me, assessed the situation and quickly determined that Lily was choking. She performed a doggie Heimlich maneuver in the hopes of freeing her wind passage. This is similar to the procedure used on a choking human where you put your arms around him/her, grasp one wrist with one hand while making a fist with the other, then pull up sharply, effectively forcing your clenched fist into the sternum of the choking individual. This should force the offending object to be expelled from the throat of the choking person. Don't try this unless you're trained or at least certain the person in question is choking or damage can result.

The first attempt at the doggie Heimlich didn't work so my bride tried again, then again. After the second (or third, I can't remember) time a piece of cookie was dislodged, but Lily immediately tried to scarf it down once again! However, I was quicker than she and managed to grab it before she did. BTW, that was one yuckie piece of cookie, let me tell you.

We were about to congratulate each other on our successful handling of the situation when we looked over at Lily and saw that she was still choking. Realizing our limitations in the endeavor at hand we immediately grabbed the dog, ran out to the van and left for our Vet's office, located about 10 minutes from our home. My bride called the Vet to alert him to our emergent situation. As we drove, we saw that Lily had her head down in my bride's lap; she just didn't look well at all. We both realized that all living organisms require oxygen. In an effort to get to the Vet's office as quickly as possible we of course ran into several red lights we had to stop at due to heavy traffic. We both prayed silently, together.

Then, when we were a mere two minutes from the Vet's office, Lily began to show signs of improvement. She lifted her head, she looked around, and we began to have hope. By the time we actually reached the Vet's office, she appeared to be herself once again. Our diagnosis was soon confirmed by the Vet who said she was fine. As we waited at the receptionist's desk after the exam Lily showed us she was back in the game by standing with her hind legs on the floor & front legs on the side of the desk, trying to get a cookie she remembered was in a jar on top of the desk!

Perhaps 7/11 are two lucky numbers after all. (Incidentally, my desire for ice cream has been temporarilly placed on hold.)