Fool that I am, I left some chicken wings alone long enough for Tierce to snag a couple. Agggh! So I phoned the vet and was somewhat reassured to know that most dogs weather accidents like this with no problems. Supervise him and bring him in if he seems lethargic or weird or if his stools are tarry. I fed the chicken hound a stomach full of the new potatoes that we had baked up and am crossing my fingers. Might feed him a can of dog food to further cushion any splinters working their way through his little body. Results will probably come out (har-de-har) in a couple of days.
Now: worst case scenario. The worst is if the bones actually pierce the intestine and cause peritonitis. From what my boyfriend experienced when Tierce chowed down on his dialysis line, this is not a comfy way to go. An operation can cost upwards of eight hundred dollars. I am not worried about the expense, as I have ensured that I have enough to take care of Tierce in the event of an emergency. But I am kicking myself for letting him anywhere near bones like that.
So, it looks like we’re in for a couple of days of eagerly waiting for my dog to take the magic shit.