A Dog’s Death Wish

Spin and Stink are airborne for Ethiopia as I write, incommunicado for ten days.  So it figures something like this would happen. I’m certain they’ll come home with stories to tell, but I’ll have at least one of my own.

Remember this guy?

One of us is going to be the death of him.  And today it wasn’t me.

I may have been the one who lost track of the little guy for two minutes long enough for him to find trouble and I may have been the one to leave a purse on the floor in my closet, but I am not the one who ate an undetermined amount of old, cinnamon toxic-to-dogs Orbit gum.

Damned dog did that all by hisself.

In an unlikely stroke of luck, he consumed it and got caught at 4:30pm, giving me just enough time to Google the offense, call the vet and get to the animal clinic before they closed at 5.

It could have been worse.

It wasn’t nearly as traumatic (or expensive) as the time Spree ate a bottle of Children’s Motrin after! hours! or the time Bell ate a bag of chocolates after! hours! and both wound up hospitalized overnight.

It could have been so much worse.

It would be nice to think that the natural consequence of having his stomach pumped will deter him from a repeat of the event, but I’m not as stupid as he is.

What I can say is that the natural consequences for me of having to shell out $100 for not picking my purse up off the floor even after thinking to myself, “I’d really hate for that purse to get chewed up.” will remind me to 1. listen to myself in the future and 2. probably keep a better eye on the puppy.

Lawd, it could have been so much worse, indeed.

I may be out $100, but at least I’m not also out a very nice handbag.  Or a Papillon.

I’d only have approximately ten days left of my own.