Finlay, our Cocker Spaniel, suitably coiffed, in the park
The first alert I received, was when I took Finlay our cocker spaniel, then a puppy of six months old, to the dog groomers. Mostly, people drop their dog off and use the spare time to have a coffee or do some shopping. I stay, because Finlay can be quite challenging, wriggling and jumping around on the grooming table, trying to ‘eat’ the hot air from the hairdryer and play-chewing Sue’s (the groomer) arm when she’s brushing him. She’s very tolerant “He’s still young” she says, “he’ll grow out of it”. “Hmm”, I think, “I hope you’re right!”
I’d also heard horror stories of dogs being left at some grooming parlours and emerging, unrecognisable, with a short back and sides. I’m very particular about how I want his coat to look, so just to avoid any misunderstanding, it’s easier to stay and discuss what needs trimming and by how much. Sue is brilliant: easy-going and with years of experience, she is calm and great with dogs of all kinds. She works from home, having converted her garage into a grooming parlour so doesn’t charge anywhere near as much as the other local groomers with the overheads of high street premises. And she keeps a supply of treats handy at all times, so Finlay loves her too!
Once she’d done the shampoo, dry and clip she said, “I’ll just check between his toes for grass seed”.
“Oh,” I thought, “that seems thorough, and perhaps a little unnecessary, but then, what do I know?'‘
“All good” she pronounced having fiddled with his feet and flapped back his ears to peer inside and check the hair around them. Finlay and I set off to walk home and I thought no more about it.
A week or two later, walking him in the park in the sunshine, I passed a dog owner with three Cavalier King Charles spaniels in tow. They were wearing what it seemed like little hats. How very strange I thought, trying not to stare too hard while wondering if these patterned-fabric appendages had a purpose or were just an affectation. In the end my curiosity got the better of me
“Why are their ears covered” I asked.
“Because of the grass seed” she answered, in a tone that suggested I should have known that and not needed to ask.
“Ah” I said knowingly, still not understanding but feeling too foolish to pose any more questions. I happened to mention this to a friend of my daughters whose family have two dogs of the same breed.
“Oh I know, it’s a nightmare” she explained “Milo got a grass seed in between his toes and it travelled right up through his blood stream and they found it close to his heart. They had to operate to get it out!”
All of this completely perplexed me. I’ve had dogs for over 30 years and had never heard of this. I know about which poisonous plants not to grow in the garden, but grass seed? Really? I mean, there’s grass everywhere and it’s always seemed pretty innocuous in my world, so what, in heaven’s name, is the issue?
I decided that, like fussy-feeding, it is yet another unnecessarily alarmist aspect of over-anxious, modern-day dog-ownership: in the past, we used to scrape any dinner leftovers into the bowls of our ever-hungry hounds and they were immediately and gratefully hoovered up with no apparent ill effects. Admittedly these were mostly mongrels who probably had stronger constitutions than the pampered pedigree we’ve got now, but even so.
These days, anything left after dinner goes to waste, as almost everything has onions or garlic, or both, in it, and these, we discover, are highly toxic for dogs. So too are avocado, grapes and chocolate, not that we would ever choose to feed a dog any of these, but a mongrel of mine stole and demolished a whole box of Black Magic once, and lived to tell the tale. In a myriad different ways, as we are reminded every day, it seems, we are living in different times.
Anyway, getting back to the grass. Last summer I had taken Finlay on our usual walk, but when we arrived home, he began acting strangely, walking with his head over to one side, constantly shaking himself and scratching at his right ear. Then he began whining pathetically
“What’s wrong with him?” my daughter asked
“No idea” I said, as we gathered round him full of concern. The performance went on and he seemed really distressed, so I decided to take him to the vet to try to discover what was the matter. When I described the symptoms, she responded immediately,
“Sounds like he’s got a grass seed in his ear”
“What is all this about grass seed?” I asked, “I’ve never had this problem with dogs before”.
“Well you’re very lucky” she answered, “it’s incredibly common from April through until autumn and is becoming worse with the hot, dry summers we’re having.”
“Crikey, not another negative impact of climate change?” I thought to myself.
It seemed like it was time to find out more about these malevolent seeds and what they look like. They are not as I imagined: rather than small and oval, these offending articles, the seed of the so-called foxtail grass, are big – about 3 cm long. They look like an ear of wheat or barley with the same kind of ‘whiskers’ as these tall grain grasses and they are very cleverly designed for effective pollination.
The offending Foxtail grass seed after removal from Finlay’s ear
They latch onto the dog’s coat (or indeed that of any animal) as it passes by and, presumably, the intention then is that they drop off elsewhere and hey presto, another plant is born. But these things are like arrow heads – the barbs on them mean they get caught very effectively in the dogs fur and the pointed end, which is thin and sharp, can easily pierce the skin, especially inside the ear or between the toes and cause an infection. Worse still, they can travel through the bloodstream to other parts of the body, hence the story of my daughters’ friend’s King Charles Spaniel. They can’t be picked up by an x-ray, so in these cases are very difficult to find and can end up killing a dog. Really? This is the stuff of nightmares!
Foxtail grass growing in the park
I am much more careful where I let Finlay run now and keep an eye out all the time for these ‘killer-grasses’. I am suddenly noticing them everywhere. In the heatwaves we’ve had, when the grass in gardens and parks stopped growing and turned brown, these thugs continued to spring up, their clumps standing proud of the other short grass, seed ripe and just waiting for a passing dog to latch onto.
We were back seeing Sue the groomer last week and she carried out her grass seed checks.
“The season should be ending soon” she commented, “so everyone can relax a bit”
“Well I’m feeling very lucky we’ve got through this summer unscathed” I answered.
What a fool! Fate was well and truly tempted in that moment, and the very next day Finlay began his, now very recognisable, behaviour that suggested we were once again going to have to visit the vet for foreign body removal. I just managed to scrape in for an appointment before they closed for the bank holiday and the vet began his investigation with his otoscope and very long tweezers. Finlay screamed the place down and struggled so much, one of the nurses had to come and hold him. I was holding back the tears, it was so pitiful.
“I can see it” explained the vet “but it’s very deep inside. It’s possible it might have pierced his eardrum, as he’s clearly in a lot of pain. He will have to be sedated to remove it”.
Of course I agreed, but then discovered this meant I would have to take Finlay to the 24 hour emergency vet which is a drive away. Off we went, poor Finlay whining and continuing to frantically shake his head, me almost in tears and resigning myself to the fact that none of my tasks for the day would be completed. Two hours later I collected a very dopey and subdued spaniel. The vet presented me with a tiny plastic vial containing the offending article – and a bill for £650!
Yesterday, I met another dog owner I sometimes walk with, in the park.
“You got off lightly” she said “Lily sniffed a seed up one of her nostrils the other day. Every time I tried to pull it out, she sneezed and as she breathed in, the seed went further inside and her nose started bleeding. The vet eventually found it 7cm up her nasal passage and it cost me £1,300 to have it removed!”
I can see now why people are paranoid about this grass. I’ve stopped laughing at the fabric ear coverings on the King Charles Spaniels, and have discovered there’s a whole industry built around this problem, with boots for dogs and headgear – a sort of rigid net one can tie over a dogs head and face, to prevent the problems.
I’ve learned, too, that while grass seed is potentially an issue for all dogs, those with long hair and long ears, for instance, yes, you’ve guessed it, a spaniel like Finlay, the problem is much worse. I think my dog grooming instructions might have to be adapted from now on: a short back and sides is suddenly sounding like a good idea.
I always love to hear your thoughts and views, so please feel free to comment and I shall reply
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Sounds like a ghastly experience. Glad Finlay is now ok.
Just for accuracy’s sake: the grass you illustrated in the piece is actually Wall Barley, not a Foxtail grass (the seeds of Foxtail would be smaller). Doesn’t change the problem though- linked to the crazy out of hours ‘service’ supposedly provided by vets these days it is all a touch grim for our canine friends.