CPR = conked poodle revived

LAKE OSWEGO, Ore. — Thanksgiving was a hard holiday at the Stapleton home in Lake Oswego, hardest of all on Mango, the family's 2-pound teacup poodle.

She got the stuffing knocked out of her.

Heart stopped. Breathing quit. Eyes glazed over.

Dr. Joe Stapleton thought his wife's itty-bitty dog was a goner.

Joe and Roxanne Stapleton bought Mango last year, intending to give the puppy to Roxanne's parents for Christmas. But the red fluff ball squirmed her way into Roxanne's heart. The couple purchased a new pup for her parents and added Mango to their menagerie of dogs, ducks, fish and a bearded dragon lizard.

Joe, an anesthesiologist and pain-management specialist, said he didn't realize any dogs were in the kitchen as he busily prepared a Thanksgiving feast for that afternoon's family gathering. Breads. Pies. Hazelnut gateau. Prime rib. Ham. And, of course, turkey.

As Joe stuffed the bird, it swiveled on the kitchen counter, knocking a heavy pot of stuffing — bam! — to the kitchen floor.

He reached to retrieve the pot, and there lay Mango.

"Oh, no!" Roxanne remembered hearing him cry. "She's dead."

Joe scooped up the pocket-sized pooch and pressed his ear to her chest. He didn't hear a heartbeat.

He'd performed cardiopulmonary resuscitation on plenty of humans, he said, but never had tried it on a dog.

He held Mango in his left hand and started chest compressions with his right. When he breathed into her nostrils, Joe said, he could feel the dog's lungs inflate.

Was giving mouth-to-snout resuscitation icky? "Most dog owners are used to kissing their dogs," Joe said. "It's not much different."

Again, he listened to Mango's chest. Her heart pumped ever so slowly, about 30 beats a minute, when it should have been at least 100.

As Joe kept the CPR going, Roxanne got directions to the Emergency Veterinary Clinic of Tualatin.

She drove.

In the back seat, Joe pushed on the dog's chest and breathed into her wet, black nose. When he listened again, her heart sounded stronger, thumping at 80 to 100 beats a minute.

Still, Mango didn't breathe. Her eyes, Joe said, looked lifeless.

He breathed faster into her nose.

A minute before they arrived at the veterinary hospital, after 20 minutes of CPR, Mango took a breath and licked Joe's cheek.

X-rays revealed no skull fractures. The veterinarian gave Mango drugs to reduce the swelling in her brain and placed her in an oxygen tent.

The Stapletons stayed awhile, then rushed home. They had more than 20 people coming for dinner. When they returned to the dog's bedside four hours later, Mango lay still but gazed up at Roxanne.

Mango was brought home the following night. Steadily, she grew stronger. By last week, Joe said, "You'd be hard-pressed to know there was anything wrong with her."