This post isn't related to writing. Nope. Today's post is about my dog, Priya. Who eats everything.
She likes to wait until I have my back turned before she steals (and sometimes chews/eats) hairbands, socks, cell phones, pens, pencils, water bottles, sticks, rocks, clods of dirt, rolls of tape, etc. Basically, if she can lift it or drag it, she's taking it. She doesn't always eat or chew what she steals, but it happens more than I would like.
The issue today involved her eating something. Claritin to be precise. I'll set the scene.
My piano is in the corner of the room by the window. It's great for natural light, but leaves me with my back to the room. The dogs (Indra and Priya) like to hang out in the room with me while I practice.
It's going great. I'm totally in the zone. When I stop to take a break, the room is quiet. Too quiet. The way it is when kids (or dogs) are doing something they should not be doing.
So, I turn around. Yep. Priya has a chewed-up pill packet in her mouth and a guilty look in her eyes. After staring at her for a second, the panic hits. I leap into action, calling the vet (closed), my mom (not a vet), and finally the Animal Poison Control Hotline.
Did you know the call is $65? Me neither. Though, honestly, I would have paid $100 to talk to a licensed veterinarian.
Anyway, I get on the phone and get the nicest southern lady in the country. (I can't be sure, but it seemed like it.) She's very matter-of-fact and, after getting all the info, puts me on hold to talk to a vet.
Did you know some companies pay for any poison control calls made for their products? Me neither. Claritin is one of those companies. If I wasn't already using their products I would start after finding that out. For real.
Anyway, so I get the recommendation I had been dreading. Hydrogen Peroxide. Dum dum dum. I swear, I take one look at Priya and her ears go back. She knows what's up. After I get off the phone, I gather my supplies, tuck Priya under my arm like a football, and head for the bathroom. Seems like the best place to be for a dog revisting her last snack.
I sit on the floor by the door and wedge Priya into a semi-sitting position. I struggle to fill a teaspoon while she is flopping around like a landed fish, trying to take out me, the bottle of hydrogen peroxide, and the rest of the bathroom. Finally, I dump the spoonful into her mouth. She spits out about half of it and has to swallow the rest. I get the stink eye.
When I let her free, she wastes no time turning tail and fleeing in the opposite direction. After repeating this horrible scene two more times, she gives up the goods and gives me a downright lethal glare.
At the moment, she is sleeping by my feet, but still unhappy with me. She made sure to ignore me even as she laid down. I am not on her Christmas list.
That'll teach me.