This past 24 hours has been enough to cause me to drink. Last night, after work, while enjoying my solo bathroom concert, a.k.a. having quiet time, albeit while I'm going to the bathroom, my son Luke's scream shattered my bliss, "OH MY GOD, BAILEY, WHAT DID YOU DO?! MOMMMMMMMY!" I halted my moment and rushed out to find my furry not-so-little monster face deep in CHOCOLATE cake. Not just chocolate cake, mind you. Chocolate cake with chocolate fudge icing. It looked pretty good (I didn't actually get a piece before my monster devoured it). My heart stopped beating for a minute. The award for 'Most Convincing Innocence" goes to...Bailey...who, when she heard me coming, threw herself in the cage, making the face of a puppy angel. "Who me? Eat cake? Never..." Her tail even wagged happily for about 0.2 seconds before the smudges on her nose betrayed her.
My son asks, aren't you going to shut the cage door? Put her in time out? Of course not, son, humans leave cake on counter...dogs eat cake. It's nature. It's not her fault, IT'S MINE!
I face-palmed hard and my mind raced with thoughts. "Well played, universe. Turns out I don't always live up to my own expectations of my ability to mother (great, I get to prove right some not so silent family members, if any of y'all have some of those then you know what I mean). Proof: chocolate cake container on edge of counter completely empty. Yes, on the counter. This dog is so smart (and delicate with her food shenanigans) that she will eat a box of pizza and close the lid back, so it goes unnoticed. She also opens doors, and closes them after leaving me a present.
I don't completely panic. I think it's probably fine. My son and I hit google up to find out---panic. Call poison control. They answer in record time for my now frantic heart.
Me: CAKE EMERGENCY. Chocolate cake with chocolate icing. My dog ate the whole thing, well 1/3-1/2, that's what was left.
Them: We can't discuss your situation until you pay us, ma'am.
Me: (broke) Are you serious? A few choice words here, hangs up the phone. Repeat. With several veterinarians. Passive aggressive just turned active! One vet tells me she'll likely suffer cardiac and neurologic symptoms in a big way and she needs hospitalized now (Bailey is currently rough housing with her dog sister, btw) but they won't see her until I can pay several hundred dollars first. TO. GET. IN. THE. DOOR. He got the worst of my words. He might still be crying today.
Finally, on vet five or so, I get a human. Shout out to OSU vet clinic where they are likely used to people living paycheck to paycheck and they seem to also care about the animals, something that I'd think would be a prerequisite for that line of work. Anyway...
Vet student: (calmly to a hysterical, crying, half yelling me) Approximately how much cake did she eat? What are the ingredients? What kind of chocolate?
Me: "Um, the amount that I LEFT ON THE COUNTER like a wonderful dog mom!" Nope. I have to calculate how many grams of cake Bailey ate (OMG she'll die while we talk, I'm thinking). Also, how many kinds of chocolate are there? Does it matter?! Apparently it does, but I still don't quite know how so. We've eaten the wrong kind, is all I'm told by the 20 year old vet student. Cocoa + dog = very bad.
Update: Bailey survived my wrath and poison control's price tag with some heavy panting, massive disgusting chocolate vomiting, diarrhea, and tremors. She also, however, got to sleep in mommy and daddy's bed, got lots of pets, many chocolate smelling kisses, and free access to water in our bedroom all night (I usually shut that down at about bedtime). She also got a random trip outside, in the middle of the night, whenever she wanted, so she could...play. Not poop or throw up. Play. No sleep for the leaver-outer of the chocolate cake.
Is she fully forgiven? Yes, of course. Me, that's a different story, we'll work on it. I'll go to bed early tonight, y'all. Hold your fur babies close and maybe get confetti birthday cake next time. You're welcome.
Good night, y'all. Thanks for reading.
Mama Gnome, A.K.A. Eliza
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