my dog is a pill popper

by lifeonaxis1

have you ever wondered what it would feel like to pick out all of your groceries, wait in line, get rung up, bagged and ready to go, only to have your card declined?

well let me tell you.

it’s pretty fucking awkward.  i knew i was pushing it on this card, but it’s the last one i’ve got and when i checked the mail earlier today my new debit card hadn’t arrived yet.  i stuck to the basics: meat, cheese, a few vegetables, chocolate chip cookies (don’t try to tell me those aren’t essential; i will cut you).  my stomach was grumbling and my mouth was salivating because i hadn’t eaten since sometime yesterday.  i think i was holding my breath as i swiped the card, and my fears were realized: UNABLE TO PROCESS displayed on the screen.  the lady asked if i wanted to swipe it again and i knew it was pointless but did it anyway out of some attempt to maintain my dignity.  unfortunately, my dignity was making a beeline for the door.  she asked if i wanted them to store it in the cooler for an hour and i said yes.  i’m not sure why.  i didn’t have another way of paying.

i came home empty handed.  my stomach hurt but i figured i could make oatmeal until my debit card arrived.  i looked at little dog C and said, well, what the hell.  let’s go check the mail box again (he always accompanies me to the mailbox as part of his off leash training).  lo and behold there it was!  my personal soundtrack was blasting “haaaaallelujah!” as i headed back to the store.  i waited in the same line and the checker told me, ‘you can eat now’ as i was leaving.  you’re goddamn right about that!

i got home.  it seemed all was going better today!  although i woke up extremely anxious and with a mood score of 18%, i thought i had done a decent job of turning it around.  my apartment was moderately clean.  rent was paid for not one, but TWO months.  i had more than my brita filter in my fridge.  yes.  it was time to settle down with some peanut butter and write a blog post.

except i couldn’t find my glasses.  i checked the kitchen, living room, back office, bedroom, bathroom…twice each.  i started to dread that big dog A had found them and they were mangled beyond repair, so i peeked outside to the patio.  and that’s when i saw them.

pills.  everywhere.  pink ones and peach ones and white ones.  lithium, prozac, multivitamins, oh my!  my daily reminder pill box was strewn among the wreckage, mangled beyond recognition.  tuesday was somewhere off to the left and i don’t even know where monday went.  suddenly i’m facing gigantic veterinary bills as i imagine having to get his stomach pumped.  my daily mantra has become “you have got to be shitting me”.

i didn’t even know i had a resonating voice, but apparently i do.  i kind of surprised myself as i shouted big dog A’s name and demanded he go to his crate.  once he was locked away, i went outside, heart racing, trying not to cry as i counted pills.  1, 2, 3, 4… i counted 6 days worth of lithium on the ground.  whew.  all accounted for.  he didn’t go for the prozac either.  all of the fish oil pills were gone as were 3 multivitamins.

my pill box had been dead center on my coffee table.  big dog A has never taken something off of a table surface before and i had no reason to expect him to start.  i suspect i’ve turned my dog into a pill popper though.  once, not too long ago, he got into my valium.  not even sure where that pill bottle was, but when i came home it was chewed open and pills were all over the couch.  and big dog A was HAPPY.  hoooooooo boy was he happy.  happy, and fucking high off his ass.  if dogs could giggle, he’d be in fits i’m sure of it.  i called the emergency vet and thankfully they thought the amount he had ingested was okay.  still, i stayed up all night to keep an eye on him.

only now, i think he’s looking to get high.  what’s a pet parent supposed to do??

i can see it now.  soon this apartment is going to resemble a half way house more than an apartment.  my cat will be trying to quit the catnip.  big dog A will be sneaking into my cupboards while i’m gone trying to sniff out meds.  little dog c will start his own line of designer drugs and i’ll find him cooking down chemicals in the bathroom.  me?  i’m going to be sitting in a corner with my chocolate chip cookies, twitching.

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