Thuh Toof Faihy Be-ah Vizzuh Muh Thunigh

Porter had to have a tooth pulled today. Behold, the Bloody Hole of Doom! He was super brave.


One of Porter's baby canine teeth (a fang, if you will) got banged pretty hard (goodness knows how) but was still in his mouth, but very loose, and very brown and gray and dead and... stinky. I knew it wasn't supposed to come out until 6 months on its own, and wasn't sure what to do, so I took him to see his favorite vet, Dr. Graves. Dr. Graves said, "No problem," and before either of us knew what was happening, he whipped out a pair of pliers. I squeaked involuntarily, closed my eyes, heard a POP!, and when I looked back, Porter was wagging his tail and Dr. Graves was tossing the offending tooth in the trash. Then Porter hopped down and caught several treats on the fly, oblivious to his recent major oral surgery. AND Dr. Graves just waved us out without charging us a thing. He is the BEST. And Porter is fine.

For future reference, if they damage a baby tooth, my vet said that it was OK to leave them alone.