One day I had just set out some rat poison. I put out several fresh aqua colored cubes. Sophie LOVES it, or did. So do mice. I LOVE that they love them. I had just put them down and she was right behind me like a vacuum inhaling them like a starvin' man on a Christmas ham.
That was the scene on that one Saturday afternoon...here's your play-by-play.
After watching her consume every one of them, I thought to myself...."could that hurt her?" Nah....
She eats year old dead carcasses. How could it?
She eats stinking skunks, how can you top that?
She eats cats, what could hurt her?
I dismissed it as "there's no-way this could hurt my dog, who consumes everything in her path!" She has a stomach lining like the steel of the Titanic, or titanium. I go into the house and tell my son Shayne what had just happened. I ask, "Do you think it will hurt her?" He blinked and said, "I don't know, let's google it." Okay, I said but "I am not taking her to the Vet!"
After thorough research, we were impacted by the results of our dog malady. This could kill her! I immediately launched into action. (Yes, I have heart, she's old, but she can still strike a skunk like a rattlesnake). I rushed to the bathroom and grabbed a full bottle of hydrogen peroxide, the noted Google solution. I thought this will be easy, it doesn't have a taste. (Don't ask me how I know that.)
I go outside and approached Sophie with the best of intentions. She knows....she sees the bottle. I thought she would lap it up like a freshly made chocolate malt. Um...no that didn't happen. I grappled her to the ground and held her in some kind of reverse knee lock position that would have made WWE's John Cena or Hulk Hogan proud. She resisted, she succumbed to my massive thigh force at work. She gulped. What a sight we were in the middle of the front yard...me awkwardly pinning her, repelled by her call of the wild smells and Sophie repelled the foamy magical elixir, as she smacked loudly with foam dripping down sobery dog chops.
Wow...that was way harder than I thought it would be. "I hope it helps", I thought. I released her and she bounded away from my grasp. 15 minutes later I go outside to check on her. She is heaving. Several times...and so hard.... that the sides of her canine linings are touching each other. She has expelled her all insides on the ground. "Yes! Saints be praised!"... I just prayed..."Jesus...take the dog!" I just didn't want her to suffer, or explode in my yard. (I'll spare you the details of what the results looked like.)
She didn't. She went on to live a long another 365 days or so after that. A true furry champion. I still love her and miss her. So I won the doggie story for today. What I just related to you shows no disrespect.
P.S. The picture used is not Sophie...the picture was changed to protect the innocent and the dead.
What is your worst save the dog or save the cat story?