Tuesday, December 18, 2007


Tonight was Taquito's graduation from the Intermediate Class. My dog's a genius. I got there a bit early so I could walk him around a bit and hopefully get him to chill before class began. I was about to make a right turn right in front of the store to score a good spot when I saw a van approaching. I was annoyed because they had basically cut me off to turn in front of me (my blinker was going but most people don't care about that) and they were going pretty fast and then they suddenly stopped so I couldn't get by and just stayed in the middle of the aisle for a few seconds. Then I thought they were doing a Chinese Fire Drill. Tons of teens scrambled out of the van and started running around. But then I noticed the panic in their movements and realized they either thought there really was a fire in a Chinese Fire Drill or something was seriously wrong. Something was seriously wrong. They had hit a pedestrian and the poor woman was lodged under the van. I squeezed my tiny car around the van (I love my tiny car!) and parked in the nearest spot. I rushed out to see plenty of blood, plenty of panic and part of a woman that wasn't moving. I asked three of the teens running around if they had called 911. Two of them said yes. One man was on the phone and I asked him again, "Did you call 911?" He said he had, that help was on the way and not to worry because he was a cop. One of the girls that was reaching her hand under the van told me not to worry because she was a nurse. They both looked like they were twelve. I started to walk to a quieter place so I could make a phone call of my own when I heard the "nurse" say, "Oh gosh, you guys! There's a lot of blood and I don't feel a pulse!" I called 911, fought with some Petsmart employees who wouldn't verify their address to the 911 dispatcher because "they didn't know" and "couldn't give out that information" so I yelled at her and told her to get her manager because something like an address should be available and because you don't tell a 911 dispatcher that you won't give out your address. Eventually I got the address out of the manager, verified my personal information to the dispatcher and watched two fire engines, an ambulance and and eight or nine police cars show up. When my class was over about an hour later there were still police officers there. The parking lot had turned into a full out crime scene with tape and everything and the van still in the same location. I told the officers that I had seen the accident, they asked me some questions, took down my personal information and let me know that the woman would be okay. She had a hospital stay in front of her and she was hurt "real bad" but that she'd be okay. Thank goodness! I still feel like I need to throw up.

Saturday, December 08, 2007

Chocolate A-No-Go

So... Taquito ate chocolate. Kind of a lot. They were Cadbury candies. I had been eating out of an 11 oz bag for days. A little less than half the bag was left when I told Taquito firmly to be a good boy and then went to take a shower. I had secured the bag well... twisted it and hid it behind R2Delicious. When I walked back into the room Taquito tried to hide himself in the corner of the couch. I immediately knew he had not followed orders. When I saw the red, white, green and brown mess all over my sofa and carpet I gasped and immediately began cleaning up the mess. But within moments I realized just how much he had eaten. I felt the bag over and over, trying to remember how much had been in there before. I called the vet in a panic. After I told her how much my dog weighed, about how many ounces of chocolate he ate and exactly what kind of chocolate it was she told me that he should be fine but... to be on the safe side... because he's a small dog... I should make him throw up. To do this she told me to force feed him 1 tsp of Hydrogen Peroxide. I didn't have a medicine syringe or anything so I had to use a 1/2 tsp measuring spoon to do the job. It wasn't easy and I wore more of the stuff than he actually swallowed. The vet said it would work pretty quickly so she advised I do it outside or in a bathroom where it would be easy to clean up. So after I wrestled a bit of it down his throat I tossed him in the bathtub and waited... and waited. The vet had told me that if he didn't spew within 15 minutes to call the emergency line. I called the emergency line and went through the whole spiel again. She told me to give him another tsp of Hydrogen Peroxide, wait 15 minutes and if he's still puke free to give him another 1/2 tsp. If, in another 15 minutes, he's still puke free to just let him be... he should be fine. "Even with all the chocolate in his belly along with the 2.5 tsp sof poison I just gave him?" "Sure." So I hung up the phone and waited. I ended up giving him the whole 2.5 tsps. I waited some more... another 20 minutes... stroking his little head and waiting for the show... but it never happened. Eventually I decided that he must have a stomach of steel and let him out of the tub. He followed me around like he always does and then eventually settled into his doggie bed.

Phew... all's right in the world of me. I started to get ready for the Christmas party.

Suddenly, he jumped up and ran to his red blanket that he had earlier dragged to the middle of the room. And on it... and my carpet... he puked. A lot. Now, it's been a long time since Taquito's had an accident on my carpet. So, I hadn't realized that I was out of Resolve... a pet owner's best friend. I tossed the poor puppy in his crate and ran to Walgreens to get some more. Landlords tend to frown on brown and green puke stains on their carpets...

Resolve did its job and once again saved my deposit. I washed the red blanket for the second time in as many days and called the folks to let them know I wouldn't be making it to the party.

I ended up doing four more loads of laundry, each time dumping then folding them on my bed. I'd put them all away once the last load was finished.

But then... tragedy.

Silly me to think Taquito was done puking.

I had left to get another load out of the dryer and when I came back in Taquito ran to hide in a corner. I thought maybe I'd caught him chewing on my mitt again and moved it to my closet but something smelled fishy... or at least really bad. Then I noticed it. Doggie puke streaming down a pile of carefully folded laundry, then onto my comforter and my sheets like a disgusting volcano taking vengeance on a small village. It was everywhere! I have no idea how such a tiny dog could produce so much nastiness!

So... I'm rewashing a load now... with an additional load of bed clothes waiting for the honor next to the machine.

Taquito's really lucky he's cute right now...