A few Sundays ago I decided to spend the afternoon with my best friend, discussing composing, arrangement, engineering and various audio stuff, when my phone rings.
My Wife is calling in a panic because Bella is having a major seizure and come home NOW!, but continues rambling so I just hang up, and say, “Chuck, dog’s seizing, gotta go,” and I’m out.
As I drive the 6 blocks to my house I’m wondering, “Poison? How? I can’t even leave for a few hours without someone killing my Dog?”
5 minutes later as I walk through the door, my 25 yr old Son is acting like a 10 yr old sniveling version of Hillary, no help at all, so I go find my Dog.
Poor baby is sitting in a corner of my office, drooling, spaced the fuck out, and the pollen is falling heavily. I just try to love on Her, but she won’t let me touch her, at first. So I go looking for poison. My office, clear. Bedroom, clear. Kitchen, clear. Then the back yard.
She found my extra Roundup on top of a 5 foot shelf and knocked it over. She loves to open bottles you see. At this point I walk inside and pronounce, “She drank Roundup, she lives or dies,” being Her Daddy and the heartless motherfucker I am.
An hour goes by and She drinks some milk. Another hour, then a puppy treat. And then finally eats dog food, THANK GOD!
After my Wife explained that my son put her out back instead of my office, I knew what happened. Bella doesn’t stay alone unless she is in her den (my office) and panicked, or she was just mad because the People left her alone.
We often give her milk for a treat, and she had some just prior to drinking Herbicide. Maybe this helped? But she apparently voided from all orifices, while screaming in pain, probably scary as fuck, and I’m glad I didn’t have to witness it. She is fine now, but lesson learned:
Puppies Will Find Trouble.
Secure all poison, take no chances.
I almost lost my Belly.
Take Care of your puppies, Glibs