Jack Russell Glues Jaws Together After Feasting On Morning Post

Jack Russell Toby bit off more than he could chew when he devoured the morning post and the mashed up paper and envelope glue set, locking his jaws together.Owner Gill Bird was stunned when she returned home to discover her mischievous pet could not open his mouth.After Gill, 41, tried unsuccessfully to prise open his locked jaws herself, she drove him to the vet.

Staff there tried to force open the dog’s jaws but had to sedate anxious Toby in order to pick away at the glue and open his mouth.
Toby’s jaws had become stuck together after he ripped up the morning post when it landed on the doormat at Gill’s home in Lee-on-the-Solent, Hampshire.The envelope glue had become sticky and, mixed with the paper, had set like papier-mache, locking Toby’s upper and lower jaws shut.


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The Pet Wisperer

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Everyone can communicate with animals. The only reason the entire human race isn’t doing it is because we have been conditioned not to. As we grow up we are taught to ignore our intuition, but, by tuning back in to our senses, we can open the doorway to inter-species communication.I first discovered animal communication existed in 2004. I’d adopted my first dog, an eight-year-old mutt called Morgan. He looked so miserable all the time I thought I was doing something wrong. So when I was invited to an animal communication workshop, I decided to give it a try.The teacher told us how he could talk to animals. It took all my willpower not to laugh. We were put into pairs and told to swap the photos – which were face down – that we’d brought of our animals. Then we were told to guess which animal was in the picture.

I looked at the back of the photo and scribbled on my notepad the first word that came into my mind. I just heard it, almost as though it had been whispered in my ear: ‘Rabbit’. When I turned the photo over I found myself staring into the soft shiny eyes of a deep rich sepia-coloured rabbit.

My partner told me this rabbit was called Mr Butch. Then the teacher instructed us to ask our animal a few rudimentary questions: ‘What’s his favourite food?’, ‘What’s his favourite activity?’, ‘Who’s he in love with?’ My mind was racing with doubt but my internal dialogue went like this: ‘I’ve been told to talk to you, but obviously you can’t hear me because you’re a photo, a photo of a rabbit and rabbits can’t talk.’ ‘Who do you think is listening to you then?’I heard this response like a voice inside me, but it was a confrontational, unhappy male voice. Was the rabbit in the photo really talking to me? Surely not? ‘Did you just speak to me?’ I asked warily. ‘Yes,’ came that voice again.Some of the things Mr Butch said didn’t make sense. But some of them were correct. Mr Butch’s big love was an espresso-coloured rabbit. He was an impatient rabbit with attitude, who would also come inside and sit on his owner’s sofa at the same time every Saturday evening.

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