Our Little Goat

She's done it again, but let me start by confirming that Heidi is okay, happily running around like a puppy, snapping at my hands as they grab for her front paws (which she hates) and jumping in circles.  She didn't lose her appetite and there were no mysterious messes to clean up when I left work mid-day from worry to come home.

We're all very happy that, if she absolutely had to root through Chris' backpack, find, and then eat an entire pack of gum, that at least it wasn't of the sugar-free variety.  When Chris came downstairs this morning to leave for work he found the evidence all over the entranceway floor.  Like a good daddy, he hopped online and looked up the possible effects such a thing can have on a dog.  Even though there is more of a chance the gum could cause a blockage because of Heidi's small size, the worst case would have been if the gum was sugar-free, as sugar-free gum has xylitol, something highly toxic to dogs.  (Seriously, Heidi may have a death wish.)  Luckily for everyone, Chris happened to pick up a pack of Juicy Fruit while in the States last week, so the main thing to watch is whether or not the baby has trouble doing her business.

What caused the sick stomach that sent me home from work early, despite Chris' email saying that there didn't seem to be anything to worry about, was the reading I did that talked about how eating gum can cause a dog's blood sugar to soar and the possibility of seizures.  Our Heidi has a history of seizures.   So I got to spend the afternoon watching her for shaking, weird behavior, and pooping.  With the helpful hint from a co-worker Stephanie, I picked up some Omega-3 on the way home to help things move along in the intestinal area, and boy did it work.

So Heidi's fine, aside from some gummy poops and probably a funky feeling tummy.  (Seriously, I obviously had to check it outside, and it's kind of oddly funny when you're holding a piece of gummy poo on the end of a stick.)  Now it's just a matter of stubborn-old-lady-proofing the house, as it seems a once very well-behaved pup who wouldn't even dare chew on anything not hers, has grown into the type who shreds paper when she's mad and eats whatever smells good.

The Day After

After being up through the night with her, Heidi had a visit with her vet this morning and she's going to be fine.  Dr. Dauner (pronounced just like 'downer,' no kidding) looked her over, gave her a couple shots to help her feel better faster, and sent us home with some soft food and a new pill to give her for daily anti-aging help.  Something to do with her head.  We like Dr. Dauner, so we took it and were happy to be headed home.  I was happy because I no longer feared she was going to die from this event, and she, because we were no longer in his office.

On our last visit, Heidi had to be muzzled for the first time in her 15 years.  She's not a big fan of the doc, and honestly, I wasn't either at the start.  But his very cut-to-the-chase, semi-cold, yet efficient and effective style turned out to be the German in him, so we forgive.

I've got to sleep a little now that everyone's okay, but I wanted to thank Christine and Mom for your prompt concern for Heidi's well-being.  Christine, it was a surprising and comforting thing to find your emails overflowing with helpful information from your days at the veterinary clinic; I only felt bad I read them too late last night to call you and thank you then.  You will now be the first person I contact when there's a question to be answered regarding my dog child.  And Mom, I sometimes forget how much you love Heidi, and how you were part mother to her, too.  I'm sorry I got you so worried, but thanks, in the same breath, for that.

Heidi's out on the floor, and off I go to join her.  Good night.

On the Wall

Sometime after I left for the gym and before Chris left for work this morning, Heidi found herself a little treat.  Carelessly left in a plastic grocery bag on the kitchen floor from yesterday's trip, our little old lady discovered a bag of semi-sweet chocolate morsels, which I planned to throw into a loaf of banana bread I'm making for my co-workers.

When I got home from work this afternoon I became immediately concerned that Heidi didn't greet me at the door.  When I saw her laying on the rug in the living room, clearly seeing I was home and seemingly unable to stand, a little bit of panic began to fester.  I noticed a yellow piece of chewed plastic bag as I knelt beside her and scanned the kitchen floor as I stroked her head and scruff.  She burped as I gently scratched her, and what would normally knock me back in a gag of terrible death breath floated up to my nose in a cloud of chocolate warmth.  This dog was sick - still is.  I found the partially consumed bag of said morsels on the counter, so there was slight relief in the realization that at least Chris had discovered this mishap and removed the offending chocolate.  I carried her outside whenever she made the effort to wobble toward the door, but besides that, she's pretty much just been sleeping, which is probably best.

Chris got home from work while I was on the phone, venturing up the stairs where I still had yet to go.  When I hung up and he asked me if I'd seen, I hadn't a clue what he was talking about, but assumed I would soon find a royal heap of chocolate mess when I followed.  What I found was worse.  Not only had she littered the upstairs hall with brown paw prints from stepping through her own sloppy pile of mess, she had somehow managed to splatter chocolate sick, most likely from her tail end by the look of it, all over the wall at the landing between floors.  On the wall.  How?  How does an eleven pound dog achieve the height she achieved with some of that organic graffiti?  The angle she must have had to take...I just don't understand.  How?  And will I be able to scrub it off without repainting?  I cannot believe I left this poison in her reach, and won't allow myself to imagine the possibility of it causing the kind of permanent damage that would take her away from me.  So we'll watch her tonight and not fuss when she gets sick further, because really, it's my fault and I feel awful.

As for now, we've got quite a mess to mop up, so that's where I'll be until American Idol starts, at which point I will be sitting still for a whole hour without thinking.