"I hate to bother you," said the concerned voice when I answered the phone, "especially the Saturday before Christmas and all, but my dog is acting very strange and I am worried about him.

Part of a veterinarian's job is being a detective to figure out what is wrong with our patients and I start this process as soon as I speak with a concerned owner. "It's no problem," I said reassuringly, "that's why I'm here. How old is your dog and what breed?"

"He's a 12-year-old neutered male Chow, he's my best friend and he didn't finish his lunch just now. He's acting very strange. Sort of like he wants to vomit or something."

I've always believed that common things are common and right before Christmas the stress in a household combined with rich and unusual foods can create some very distressing but not life-threatening gastric disorders in dogs.

Diarrhea and vomiting are common complaints. I asked the man to take his dog's temperature; 101.3 F, he reported, although not a fever it was a little elevated, perhaps due to stress. I decided he likely had eaten something he shouldn't have or possibly was stressed for some other reason.

"Why don't you keep food away from him for 24 hours, he may have water, but no food. If he's acting better tomorrow afternoon, then offer him a small amount of some bland, easily digested food like no-fat cottage cheese with an equal quantity of cooked white rice. But, keep a close eye on him and if he worries you more, please call me."

The man thanked me for the advice. I told my husband the story, feeling a little niggling sense of something not quite right. Intuition is inexplicable, but in my experience it is almost never wrong; therefore I was not surprised when Jon, the concerned owner, called back a few minutes later.

"He's acting like he's in real pain, now." He reported with distress in his voice, "He went down to the basement where he likes to hang out and he tried to vomit. Now his belly looks very round and full."

My skin crawled. Jon had just described a dog who was bloating: a surgical emergency wherein the stomach flips up and over and cannot empty either direction. In short minutes the pressure from gas in the stomach starts to build and soon, without surgical intervention, a dog will die a very difficult and frightening death being unable to breathe against the increasing volume of his stomach.

My attitude changed from comforting a man through a likely gastric indiscretion on his dog's part to asking him rather urgently how soon he and his dog could be at my clinic. He agreed to meet us there right away.

While we drove in, I called my assistant Anna to see if she could come and help. She readily agreed and we met there a few minutes later. While waiting for Jon to arrive with Taz, his dog, we set up the radiograph machine and developer, got an IV organized and prepared the surgical room for the procedure.

Taz appeared shortly and one look at his grossly distended abdomen supported my fears. He panted and looked uncomfortable, trying to breathe against the rapidly tightening balloon that his stomach had become.

The radiograph confirmed the diagnosis. I told Jon that without surgery Taz would die. A decision needed to be made now; time was not on our side.

The urgency of a gastric dilatation volvulus or GDV is clear in my mind; of the five I've seen since I've been in practice, four died either on the way in to the clinic or just as they arrived. The fifth was in serious trouble when his owner found him and despite quick surgery, he died before he woke from anesthesia.

There are many serious complications associated with a GDV that all can be life-threatening. My own dog suffered a GVD when I was a third year veterinary student. Fortunately I recognized what was happening and got her to the veterinary hospital where surgery saved her life.

Thankfully GDVs are not common and an attentive owner who recognizes the problem can save his companion's life. Deep chested, large breed dogs are at greatest risk. Time is very clearly of the essence when dealing with a bloat.

Dr. Byrket arrived and offered to help. Taz was quickly prepared for surgery, an IV catheter inserted in his vein to hydrate him, help keep him stable during surgery, and to give us easy and quick access for medications.

As soon as he was under anesthesia, a tube was gently advanced down his throat in hopes of giving him some relief from the terrible pressure building in his stomach. The tube would not pass beyond his esophagus. Quickly, I made a long incision to open his abdomen, allowing his stomach to protrude and ease his breathing a bit.

His stomach was still a healthy pink color, testimony that Jon had truly reacted quickly and effectively in getting him to us. The deep bluish-black color of dying mucosa was thankfully absent.

I carefully made an incision into his stomach to allow the trapped gases to escape. As his stomach deflated, his breathing eased dramatically and the tube in his esophagus slid easily into his stomach. I repaired the opening I'd just made in his stomach then identified the spleen adjacent to the stomach, it too looked a healthy color. We carefully replaced the stomach in its proper orientation in Taz's abdomen and repaired the long incision in his abdomen.

He recovered from anesthesia uneventfully with his head on his loving owner's lap. After he was safely awake, we brought him home with us for the night so as to keep a close eye on him.

He did remarkably well, thanks as much to his attentive owner as anything. Jon's responsiveness to Taz's brewing disaster, recognizing when his companion was seriously distressed and that his body shape was rapidly changing is what saved his life and gave the two of them a Christmas Miracle.