Everything made the trip across the parking lot in one piece, in a relatively short amount of time. I was enjoying my extra bedroom, and my wonderful clean carpet...that's when it all went wrong.
Anyone who knows me is aware that I already have one child. His name is Spencer, and he is a 4-year old Jack Russell Terrier.
Isn't he cute? He is spoiled rotten, just like most only children. He has actually been doing a wonderful job of training me to be a real mommy--he is excellent at waking me up in the middle of the night, and making disgusting messes for me to clean up. Spencer is what you might call "high maintenance." He has food allergies that force me to buy him special expensive food, and he has skin allergies that result in him spending most of the "pollen season" doped up on Benadryl and sporting the cone of shame. Overall, he's a pretty good dog though--despite what Daddy has to say.
Occasionally, this dog will get a stomach bug. By occasionally, I mean about once a month. Usually he likes to spew around 3am, and he prefers to do it on my bed--see? Excellent training to be a mommy--cleaning up nastiness in the middle of the night. (Can you see where I'm going with this yet?) This particular month, he decided to wait until about an hour after everything had been moved in to our new apartment with the NICE CLEAN CARPET. Of course, he has no idea that maybe I would prefer him to vomit on the linoleum. Oh no. Why would he do that?
It wasn't just a one-time thing either. Four times on Saturday. Four. Times.
The third and fourth times I managed to get him to the linoleum.
Yesterday, I thought he was feeling better. I freed him from his plastic prison.
Three times. Three. Times.
The second time, I noticed a wad of aluminum foil. Yes, this dog will sometimes channel Billy Goat, and get into the trash. So now I have to call the vet and explain that I am a horrible dog mom--
"Yes, vet-tech receptionist lady at Petsmart, my dog got into the trash on Friday ...I do routinely leave it where he has access to it--in fact, a lot of times I like to baste my garbage in meat or bacon grease and just put it right into his crate. This is because I like to play this little game I call 'See what Spencer can poop out.' I have no idea what else he ate out of the trash--that's the fun of the game, lady!! ...Could you please tell me if he is going to be alright, or if I should rush him to your office and wait three hours for you to tell me to keep an eye one him? ...Or maybe I should even wait until the middle of the night so that I can finance braces for the daughter of the vet at the Pet Emergency Room? ...I am ashamed of myself for being such a terrible pet mom. The Animal Cops are probably on their way right now. ...I will follow Spencer around for the rest of the day, monitoring his condition and feeding him PediaLyte so he doesn't get dehydrated. Do you think it would be alright if I put the PediaLyte in the toilet? What?! ...Of course I don't let him drink from the toilet!! What kind of person do you think I am?! Alright buh-bye now."
I didn't give him any PediaLyte. Please don't tell the judgmental vet-tech receptionist lady at Petsmart.
He is feeling much better today, and by tomorrow he will probably be allowed to leave the kitchen. Oh, and if I didn't let him drink from the toilet, he would die from dehydration. He doesn't like the water in his bowl--it's not fresh enough.
Oh Spencer...
ReplyDeleteI totally feel you. My Alex was the same way. Luckily, Barky really only likes to bite people and doesn't care anything about destroying our stuff.
ReplyDeleteIt's even worse when he wants to destroy things on purpose. I had to replace the flooring and baseboards in my kitchen because of his teething when he was a baby.
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