A different kind of weekend regurgitation. Yet another reason to hate fundraisers.

I’m not regurgitating an older post today because there has been far too much regurgitation around here lately and, as a novice dog owner, I’m still stressed out about it.

Last night, two high schoolers rang my doorbell and I almost got away with pretending I wasn’t home except I’m pretty sure they they saw me drop to my knees and try to hide under our window because they waved down to me so I acted like I had accidentally slipped and when I limped to open the door, they didn’t even ask me how I was or if maybe my femur was shattered and instead, they just yammered something about field hockey and then they shoved a box of candy bars in front of my face and forced me to buy one and by forced, I mean they asked me.

I immediately ate a bit of it, gave a bit to Helena and then lost my mind and set the remainder on the end table by the couch and then I left the room.

I know. I AM A MENACE TO SOCIETY AND SHOULD BE QUARANTINED SO THAT I CAN’T INFECT ANYONE.

Fifteen minutes later I was on the phone to the emergency vet, sputtering that my seven pound shihpoo had leaped a tall coffee table in a single bound and inhaled half a chocolate peanut butter bar and yes, I know that chocolate is toxic to dogs and no, I didn’t give it to him on purpose because despite all evidence to the contrary, I am not an idiot and no, it’s not my fault because technically, it’s those stupid field hockey girls’ faults because they ought to have known better than to offer chocolate to me when in ten minutes I could very well have been high from all the pain meds I’d be taking because of a possible fractured femur and therefore unable to make decisions or operate heavy machinery and don’t you think offering a woman with a freshly broken thigh a sugar-laden chocolate peanut butter combo on a Saturday night when she’s stuck home watching Operation Repo under the influence and there’s nothing in the house to eat for dinner except a jar of pimentos and a fiber bar, both of which are way the hell over there, is a little sadistic to her puppy? And yes, I know I’m passing the buck but it makes me feel better to assess blame and WHAT THE HELL DO YOU MEAN, MAKE HIM VOMIT? LIKE, ON PURPOSE?

One minute later, Nate was running out to Wegmans for hydrogen peroxide and I was doing what any self respecting blogger would do under these circumstances which was tweeting and facebooking my predicament and including a plea for everyone to tell me that my fur baby was going to be OK and that I should stop freaking the hell out immediately.

Nate came home with the hydrogen peroxide and we chased Ollie around the house and then poured one teaspoon of the stuff down Ollie’s throat and I shit you not, two minutes later he heaved up the entire contents of his stomach and I was never so happy to have big piles of vomit scattered around my kitchen floor in all my life.

Five minutes later, Oliver was totally relaxed and asleep on my lap. I, on the other hand, was so tense, you could have strung a guitar with my neck muscles.

Today, I plan on putting all of our furniture on stilts and installing Invisible Fence around each piece, just in case more hooligans knock on my door and force me to fake break more body parts.

If schools would just stop cutting their damn budgets already, puppies everywhere would be a lot safer.

.

.

Share this post

Share on facebook
Share on twitter
Share on pinterest

14 thoughts on “A different kind of weekend regurgitation. Yet another reason to hate fundraisers.”

  1. OMG, our obedience trainer says that little dogs tend to not be as well trained as big dogs because, well….basically they get away with murder for being so damn cute. I don’t know how well trained Oliver is, but LOOK at that face!

  2. I am glad he is okay. My pup had some chocolate treats from a very high kitchen counter and a chair left out by a child, who will remain nameless. He jumped up when we were gone and divulged in the chocolate, cardboard and even plastic they were in. He’s a little 20 pound Carin Terrier so I was a little worried, but the vet told us to just watch him. He managed just fine, slept like a man that ate too much dinner all relaxed and comfortable. I was told it is the cocoa content that you have to watch and the higher the more toxic, since these were low cocoa it’s why he didn’t have a toxic reaction. The good news is, he’s 6 and still trying to find anything and everything he can to eat.. and he’s too cute {Like Oliver} to punish. Here’s to more pen caps & poo treats!

  3. I am so glad he is okay! And he is so dang cute 🙂 My dog once ate two of those ant bait poison discs and I completely freaked out. When I called the emergency vet almost hysterical the first question after I told them what he ate was, “how much does he weigh?” When I told them 100 lbs or so, they told me he would be fine, he would have to eat at least 5x what he ate to even begin to being in danger. After my relief wore out, I though, “wait, did they just tell my my dog was fat???” He was a big shepard/chow mix, and he was fine. I am glad Ollie is okay too, even after having suffered the humiliation of having to vomit. Did you at least hold his hair for him?

  4. Oh man!

    This post conjured up (punnnnny) the memory of when our first chihuahua swallowed a rubber band, and I too used the peroxide to cause him to heave it back up. Back then though, I did not know about chocolate, and leaving for a Christmas party, I left 4 wrapped truffles on the couch.

    When we got home, Paco was literally blazing through the house at such speeds that he was nearly sideways running on our walls, and he circled the house and dining room in this fashion for 20 minutes straight, until I figured out what happened. We simply laughed and thanked him for the show. Now that I am older, and wiser, and have Google, I know better… 😉 SO happy your pup is ok! I am nearly over my freak-out phase with our 5-month-old pup, I am glad to report.

  5. So glad it worked out. Remember, as a pet owner – peroxide is your friend. It is great for taking out all kinds of carpet stains. (And I do mean ALL kinds!) As the owner of a cat who barfs constantly, I have come to love hydorgen peroxide. Wish I could get it in a 55 gallon drum!

  6. This is EXACTLY why I NEVER support the neighborhood children who go door to door, pedaling their wares. I knew I wasn’t a bad person! Quite the opposite. After reading your post, I think I’m somewhat of a hero! Thanks for making me feel like a better mom and pet owner! By the way, I feel for you. My dog ate something outside a couple of months ago which made her violently ill. I woke up at 3 am to a terrible odor. She had had copious diarrhea all over my closet floor. Nice,huh? The only reason she is alive to bark about it is that she somehow avoided pooping on my designer shoes and handbags (which would have led directly to her violent demise). She seemed to be aiming for my husband’s stuff. Points for her.

  7. Cripes… that freakin dog is making me feel guilty looking at him.

    The expression on Olivers face is very accusatory. He is sure to poop on your laundry this week.

Leave a Comment

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *