Tales of waggin' tails, no tails, and tail feathers . . .

Friday, September 3, 2010

Conker Crisis

   Conker is just soooo bad!  People don't believe me b/c he's so sweet and snuggly and adorable but here are two specific instances (when really I have several examples): 
   One day I come home to find some purple tin foil pieces in the middle of my floor.  It looks as if one of the dogs as gotten into my roommate's Espresso Hershey Kisses.  Crap.  I look at all three of the dogs, "Who did this!?"  Of course, they all get that guilty look b/c I'm using my mom-voice.  Fine.  So, I smell Chiquita's breath: smells like dog breath. I smell Gumbo's breath: smells like dog breath.  I smell Conker's breath: smells like Starbucks - Ahah!  I watched him closely for the next several hours, and amazingly he never got sick (which is especially odd since not only is chocolate bad for dogs, but Conker has a pretty sensitive stomach)!   Lucky little snot.  Except, he did poop out purple flecks of tin foil for the next couple of days.
   The second instance happened only yesterday, his badness reached a whole new heart stopping level.  Jamie and I had gone for a late lunch and we had just gotten back.  I was sitting on the couch saying hello to all my darlings when Jamie walks in the room with it in his hand: on of those roach bait thingys.  We put them around earlier in the week especially out on the deck area where the Mutant Roach Spawns of Satan seem to be the worst.  You guessed it: this one has been chewed on and ripped open.  My stomach drops to my feet.  So, again: I perform the smell test (I swear, the things I do for my dogs . . . ).  I smell Chiquita's breath: smells like dog breath.  I smell Gumbo's breath: smells like dog breath.  I smell Conker's breath: smells like pesticide - Aaaaaaah!  So, I jump into action - we weren't gone that long, I immediately grab the car keys and head out the door.  I'm going to get hydrogen peroxide as it's an emetic.  I direct Jamie to find the poison box and call the 1-800 number that should be on there.  I drive the quarter mile or so to the nearest pharmacy with my heart in my throat.  I'm also calculating the enormous emergency vet bill in my head and which vital organ I'm going to have to sell to pay it.  On my way back I'm running through everything I can remember about toxicology and antidotes, in my haste I maaay have broken a few traffic laws. 
   I fly in the front door and Jamie has just gotten off the phone.  Jamie had a little trouble finding the box, he even went out and dug in the outside trashcan to get it.  He says we're safe.  The medical helpline said that the poison is specifically designed for insects and should not be harmful for dogs.  Until then I hadn't realized I was holding my breath . . . Whoooosh!  I just can't even imagine my life without the little troublemaker!  I picked him up and, much to his delight, covered him in kisses, lavished him w/ attention and told him how much I loved him and then how bad he was to give me heart palpitations!  He's our littlest dog and the most expressive.  He has so much personality, it's no wonder that he practically wraps everyone around his little paw w/in minutes of meeting him!

Taken last night.  He appears to be ok, as he is beggin for
some of my dinner here. :)

Taken last night.  Conker is pensive.  He's thinking
about how terrribly he worried me . . . he's really sorry.

At this point he just wants me to quit following him
around looking for possible 'symptoms' and snapping
pics of his 'miraculous recovery'

No comments:

Post a Comment