Kennel Cough: What It Sounds Like and What to Do (From Experience)

Last Tuesday Georgie ate my sock and acted like I’d wronged him when I took it back. He really thought he was a wolf, you know? Like, a majestic, sock-eating beast of the tundra. Anyway, about two weeks before that whole sock drama, he started making this noise that sounded like he was trying to cough up a golf ball and failing spectacularly. It wasn’t just a regular cough; it was a honking, gagging, hacking sound that rattled his tiny little chest. My other dog, Teddy, who is basically a fluffy, toy-stealing menace, just looked at him like he was being dramatic. But I knew something was up. This wasn’t just a regular hairball incident; this was a full-blown performance.

What Kennel Cough Actually Sounds Like (The Horror)

Okay, so you’re asking what kennel cough sounds like because your dog is making some weird noises, right? Let me tell you, it’s distinctive. It’s not a gentle little hack. Imagine a goose trying to clear its throat after swallowing a whistle. That’s pretty close. It’s a dry, hacking cough that often ends with a retching sound, like they’re trying to throw something up but nothing comes out. Sometimes it’s followed by a little bit of foamy white phlegm, which is super gross but also a sign that they’re really trying to get something out. Georgie, being Georgie, always made sure to do this at 3 AM. He’s a drama king, always has been. He’d be sound asleep, then suddenly, HONK-HACK-RETCH! And then he’d just… go back to sleep, completely oblivious to the fact that he’d just scared the crap out of me. It’s like he knew how to perfectly time his coughing fits for maximum disruption.

When it first started, I actually thought he had something stuck in his throat. I was literally trying to do the Heimlich maneuver on him, which, let me tell you, is a terrifying experience with a tiny Morkie who thinks he’s a wolf and is convinced you’re trying to steal his soul. After a few of these episodes, and Georgie glaring at me like I was personally responsible for his discomfort, I realized it wasn’t a foreign object. It was too consistent, too specific. And it got worse when he was excited or exerted himself, like after a short walk or a particularly intense wrestling match with a dust bunny.

What to Do When You Suspect Kennel Cough (Don’t Panic, But Call the Vet)

First thing: don’t freak out. But also, call your vet. Like, right away. I made the mistake of waiting a day, thinking maybe it was just a fluke, and Georgie just got progressively more miserable. His little body would shake from the force of the coughing. Your vet will want to hear about the symptoms, how long it’s been going on, and if your dog has been around other dogs recently (dog parks, boarding, groomers, etc.). Georgie had just been to the groomer, so that was a huge red flag for me, even though he insists he cleans himself perfectly with his superior wolf-like tongue.

When I called, our vet told me to bring him in immediately. They usually want to rule out other, more serious things first, even though kennel cough is super common. They’ll do a physical exam, listen to their lungs, and sometimes take a swab for testing, though often the diagnosis is pretty straightforward based on symptoms. For Georgie, it was pretty clear. He walked in, gave a dramatic honk, and the vet just nodded knowingly.

Treatment That Actually Worked (And What Didn’t)

My vet prescribed antibiotics (doxycycline, if I remember correctly) and an anti-inflammatory to help with the irritation in his throat. This is pretty standard. The antibiotics target any secondary bacterial infections, which often go hand-in-hand with the viral kennel cough. The anti-inflammatory was key for Georgie because his throat was so sore from all the coughing. He’s a really sensitive guy, despite his “I’m a tough wolf” act.

What DIDN’T work? Trying to give him honey. I read online that honey could soothe his throat. Georgie, who has very strong opinions about everything, decided honey was an abomination and refused to even sniff it. He looked at me like I was poisoning him. So, yeah, save your honey for your tea. Also, don’t try to just let it run its course if your dog is really miserable. While kennel cough often clears up on its own, those secondary infections can get nasty, and your dog will be in pain. The vet meds genuinely made a difference.

Another thing that helped was keeping him calm. No intense play, no long walks. Even though Georgie thinks he’s a marathon runner, we kept walks short and just for potty breaks. Excitement would trigger a coughing fit almost instantly. I also tried to use a humidifier in the room where he slept, and that seemed to offer some relief, especially at night. It’s not a cure, but it might make them a little more comfortable.

When it came to walking him, the vet recommended swapping out his regular collar for a harness. We already use the Ruffwear Front Range Harness, about $40 on Amazon, which is great because it doesn’t put pressure on his throat. If you use a collar, every tug or pull exacerbates the irritation, leading to more coughing. So, if you don’t have one already, get a good front-clip harness. It makes a world of difference for comfort, especially when they’re already hacking their lungs out.

Keeping Georgie Comfortable and Contained (Quarantine!)

The vet also emphasized strict quarantine. Kennel cough is super contagious. So, no dog park, no doggy daycare, no playdates with Teddy’s friends (Teddy, being the social butterfly, was bummed). We had to keep Georgie away from other dogs for at least two weeks after his symptoms completely resolved. This was a challenge because Georgie believes every dog he meets is either a potential rival or a devoted follower. Keeping him away from his perceived adoring public was a task. We had to disinfect his bowls, toys (the ones Teddy hadn’t stolen yet), and bedding regularly.

He was a little subdued for about a week, which for Georgie is like being comatose. He usually has the energy of a thousand suns. But even with the meds, it takes time. The coughing gradually lessened, became less intense, and then finally stopped. The whole ordeal lasted about three weeks from the first cough to being completely clear. His personality slowly returned, much to my relief and Teddy’s chagrin (because Georgie immediately started reclaiming all his “stolen” toys).

If your dog is honking like a goose with a bad habit, just call the vet.