Tough week in the Large Household, and I believe it’s about to get worse.
The wife has COVID and is pretty laid up from it… She’s been in quarantine on one side of the house since she popped positive on Monday morning.
My kids have been virtual since Monday as a result of their Mom being sick, and I have been recording from home. So on any given day, the three kids and I are trying to find quiet corners with good Wi-Fi in what’s left of the house while avoiding Saint Anne like the plague.
The easiest part of this week should be the two dogs… But apparently not.
Tuesday night, my 1-year-old French Bulldog, Blue Cheese, got into a small plastic container filled with Advil that was left outside of the guest bedroom along with other supplies for my wife.
At around 11 PM, she gnawed the small plastic container open and ate 5 of them.
My wife was sleeping at the time, as was I… Downstairs on the couch.
I was awoken to my dog throwing up on the rug, and soon came to learn she threw up on a bed upstairs… Real fucking mess.
From the ripped open container that housed the Advil, I deduced she ate the Advil...
So I gave her some water, took her for a walk, and then began to clean up puddles of dog vomit.
--- As a point of reference, this is the same dog that cost me thousands to repair her inverted vagina just a couple of weeks after we brought her home… She’s been nothing but trouble ever since, but we love the shit of her. ---
By 12:30 AM, I was all finished, and right before I went to bed, I heard a hoarse voice yell from quarantine, “Google ‘dogs & Advil’ before you go to bed!”
So I did... And apparently, so did my wife because every article that popped up was worse than the next.
I always knew chocolate, grapes, and raisins were bad for canines. And I read somewhere that dogs can’t digest tomatoes. But I never knew about the deadly connection between the breed and Ibuprofen.
My wife called ASPCA Poison Control, which kept her on hold for 30 minutes and then charged her $75 to tell me to take my dog to the Emergency Room ASAP.
So at 1 AM and with the mercury registering only 7 degrees outside, I took the dog to the ER… I didn't have a bad feeling going in because she had vomited so much and wasn't showing any signs of distress. It was more of a precautionary visit since we weren't sure how long the drug was in her system before she puked, so "Better to be safe than sorry", I always say.
Two hours and $600 later, we were on our way home with bloodwork, an injection of some sort, and two types of medicine this bitch needs to take for the next 2 weeks.
When the doctor at the ER showed me a rough estimate of the bill before treating Blue Cheese, I asked her (jokingly), “And how much would it be to just put her down?”
Graveyard-shift veterinarians don’t like death humor… I get it... Lesson learned.
I left that ER just after 3 AM, was admittedly driving too fast on an empty Route 17 on my way home, and got stopped for speeding by a State Trooper… I told the officer my sob story and showed her the sick passenger curled up next to me in a blanket, and she STILL decided to write me up for the full amount.
What a cunt!
I said to her as she handed me the ticket, “Cat person, huh?”
And apparently State Troopers don’t like pet humor… Yet another lesson learned.
Barring one small issue, the dog is recovering fine… On her discharge papers, it says she suffered from an “overdose of Ibuprofen” which seems a tad severe and surprisingly makes me feel like a bad parent.
The only lingering issue is she can’t stop salivating. So much so, that I thought she pissed her bed last night when it was simply a puddle of drool instead.
No fucking clue what that means, but I assume it’s not good… Pet MD said it could be a sign of kidney problems and all the research on canine Advil consumption also points to potential kidney issues, so back to the vet I go… This time, I don’t have a good feeling about it, and I am bringing my checkbook with me.
And now, as I am typing this blog and waiting for the vet's office to open, she is asleep on my lap… Drooling a puddle onto my thigh. So I am preparing for the worst.
Here are the lessons to be learned:
- Speed-trap State Troopers and night-shift ER vets don’t have very good senses of humor.
- Don’t let your dogs near your Advil.
- Or, better yet, don’t get a dog.
And if you want some exponentially more uplifting dog stories, as fate would have it, I just recorded the Twisted History of Dogs with Vibbs yesterday.
The sound quality might be a little off because the WiFi was a bit strained at the time… But for now, that seems like the least of my problems.