Before Jon and I started painting this weekend, we set out for Target and Home Depot to get the necessary supplies. Our Target happens to be situated right next door to a Petsmart, one which sponsors pet adoptions every Saturday with the Lost Dog and Cat Rescue Foundation. I volunteer with them every now and again and I always try to do my Target shopping on Saturdays just so I can go and visit with the dogs looking for their forever homes.
When we pulled into the Petsmart parking lot this weekend, I spotted a dog that looked just like my Holly. I couldn't believe my eyes. Before Jon had even put the car in park, I was out of my seatbelt and hurrying across the street to say hello to the dog that looked just like her. But halfway there, I stopped. I was crying. And the crying turned into sobbing. Jon caught up with me just in time for me to turn into his shoulder and sob onto his shirt. Jon was a bit bewildered because he knows just how much I savor these precious moments with the homeless animals so why was I suddenly crying? I tried to explain through my tears. "That dog" BAWL SNIFF SNIFF. "Looks just like" BAWL BAWL BAWL WAILLLLLL SNIFF. "Holly" WAILLLLLLLL SOB SOB.
I have the delightful habit of quite often making a fool out of myself in public, but that had to take the cake. In reality, I'm sure not too many people noticed the blubbering fool in the parking lot, but even if they did, no one said anything to me. They've probably been there too and understand how deeply the loss of a pet can affect you. The bond between a person and their dog is like no other. Holly died last April and yet the pain of losing her still hurts as much as the very first day without her.
That's probably why I freaked out so much when I found an empty Advil Liquigel capsule on our bedroom floor on Saturday night. There was a puncture mark on it and all of the liquid was drained out. I instantly got on the internet and started crazily googling "dog ate Advil". Website after website came up, all with the same horrible word: LETHAL. Naturally, I flipped my shit. "Jon, JON!! Lola's DYING!!" Let me tell you, I am totally the girl you want around in a crisis because hell to the no, I never overreact. Uh huh.
The cool and levelheaded engineer in Jon decided to investigate a little farther. "Are you sure she ate it, Katie?" "Yes, JON, there's a freaking tooth mark in it!!" "Show me where you found it." Meanwhile, in case you're wondering, Lola is acting just as normal as can be, sitting on the couch staring at our abandoned PF Chang's on the coffee table. So I led Jon to the spot of the Advil consumption, and there it was, a small, wet spot on our carpet. I rubbed my finger on it and it was sticky. Then I (eww!) tasted it to ensure that it was Advil. And indeed it was. Thank god we have a dog with the finest palate on the planet because she will not eat anything unless it's a) off our plate or b) a Tiny T Bonz Sizzling Steak treat. She must have had one taste of the icky medicine and quickly abandoned it on the floor, leaving the liquid to drain out. PHEW!!
Crisis averted and lesson learned: The next time you are hungover and popping Advils in the wee morning hours, make sure every pill actually makes it in your mouth and not on the floor!
(In all seriousness though, please keep your pills out of your pet's reach...I would have been devastated if something had happened to Lola.)
