Okay, so. The Little Brown Dawg gets to spend the weekend at the vets office getting IV fluids and activated charcoal. Why?? Because he ate most of a half-pound bag of dark chocolate that I gave TWH for Valentines Day yesterday.
“How did he get it??” You ask.
Oh, the little bastid worked for it.
See, our house is open floor plan. The kitchen, dining room, and living room are basically one big room. I have the furniture arranged so that TWH’s favorite chair is close to the dining room table. Many’s a dinner we’ve had while TLBD sat on the back of TWH’s chair and gazed longingly at our food.
Today the bag of chocolate proved too great a temptaton and the fuzzy little bastid LAUNCHED himself off TWH’s chair and ONTO the dining room table where he happily began chomping his way through the candy.
TB discovered TLBD’s transgression when he got home from school. He called me. I called TWH. TWH googled just how much trouble we were in, then called me back going “Yeah… He needs to get to the vet”.
While we were on our way to pick the Dawg up, I told all of the Twitter (which in turn, told all of my Facebook) about his escapades of the day. My cousin’s wife responded with “He’ll be fine and perhaps will have learned a lesson” . I responded “He will be fine. He won’t have learned jack shit though. WE, on the other hand, have learned NOT to leave candy on the dining room table”.
See?? We CAN be taught!!
That doesn’t make TLBD any less of an asshole. If he earned an allowance, we’d use it to pay his mutha’ flippin’ bill.
And buy TWH some more candy. Which we would keep in the pantry.