No, really! Baaaaad Chappy. I’ve mentioned before his habit of stealing things and then sitting in the dining room, waiting for somebody to come play the “Look What I’ve Got” game. Well, today, he took it to a new and frightening level.
Scene: Deb’s office. The phone rings.
Deb: Hello, Debbie speaking.
Mom: I was coloring my hair, and Chappy ate one of the gloves.
Deb: What?! When?
Mom: I don’t know how long he had it, but when I went back in the bathroom to rinse my hair, one of the gloves was gone. I went downstairs and could only find a couple of fingers.
Deb (taking deep breath): Oooooooo-kay. You’re going to have to give him hydrogen peroxide to make him throw it back up.
(Time lapses as Mom finds the peroxide and heads down to the kitchen.)
Mom: How much?
Deb: Two tablespoons.
Mom: Measuring spoons, or just one from the silverware drawer?
Deb: Just . . . two spoons!
Mom: Just, pour it down his throat??
Deb: Try mixing it with a little ice cream.
Mom: I just have to find one that doesn’t have chocolate….
Deb: Well, he’s just going to throw it up anyway. It doesn’t matter.
Mom: And then, take him into the laundry room? Or the garage? How fast does this work?
Deb: Yes, definitely. It works pretty fast.
(Muffled background noises of stirring.
“Come here, Chappy.”
Lapping noises.
“Wait, come back…”)
Mom: He only ate a little bit.
Deb: Well, it probably doesn’t taste very good. Try putting a little bit of bread it in to soak up the peroxide.
(Rustling noises.)
Mom: He took the bread out of the cup and went into the dining room!
Deb: How much bread did you put in there? But, anyway, go get him back! Put his leash on him….
Mom: Oh no! He’s throwing up under the dining room table! Chappy, stop! Come . . . oh no….
Deb (holding her head on the other end of the phone): What happened?
Mom: He’s throwing up all … Chappy! … all over the dining room!
Deb (trying hard not to say “I told you so”): I told you to put his leash on him and take him to the garage….
Mom: Well, it’s a little late now!
(Vomiting noises in the background.
Dad’s voice asking what’s going on.
Instructions to go get a leash. Then…)
Dad: Hi, kiddo.
Deb: Hi, Dad.
(Sounds of scrubbing in the background,
punctuated by “ewww” and “uggh” noises.)
Mom: Well, I found a couple pieces of the glove, but not all of it, and I’m NOT going through all of this mess, looking!
Deb: No, no, I wouldn’t expect it! I’ll call the vet….
(Hanging up, dialing the vet …
Put on hold by the receptionist …
Endless 5 minutes go by.)
Vet Receptionist: Hi, are you being helped?
Deb: No. Thanks. My mother just called me–she was coloring her hair, and my dog stole and swallowed one of the latex gloves. We tried giving him hydrogen peroxide and he threw up some of the glove, but not all of it.
Vet Receptionist: Oh no. Okay, hold on . . .
(minutes pass)
Vet Receptionist: Are you still there? Okay, I talked to a couple of the vets in the back, and they said that as long as he doesn’t have any diarhhea or vomiting, it should come out in his poop.
(And yes, she really said “poop.”)
So . . . this is where we are–waiting to see if Chappy’s glove is going to come through his system successfully, or if he shows even the slightest sign of being sick . . . because you DON’T mess around with things that can tangle in the intestines! I love my dog far too much to lose him because he swallowed a glove. This sort of thing is never fun–have I told you folks about Katy swallowing dryer sheets and a sock?–but this is the first time the, er, object has been left in my dog’s stomach with “Wait and see” instructions, so it’s a little nerve-wracking. And, of course, I wasn’t the one who had to clean up all the vomit…
Anyway, send good thoughts to Chappy’s digestive system, would you? I’m going to have to give him a firm talking-to when I get home, while he, no doubt, tells me that he thinks our ice cream went bad….
• Tags: Chappy, Family • Permalink:Bad Chappy! // 28 Comments »