1 x floor-to-ceiling bathroom cabinet
1 x curious gangly type puppy
1 x thought to self: Must move all the medicines up a few shelves this weekend
1 x husband who often fails to shut the cabinet door (we know this, hence point above)
Mix well for 10 unsupervised minutes. Hilarity ensues!
That is a bottle of Nurofen (ibuprofen) chewed completely flat, with its childproof cap still pristine. Because if you flatten the bottle, the cap pops right off. Did you know this? Now you do. We don’t think the puppy actually swallowed any, but because we couldn’t remember how many were left in the bottle, the vets work on worst-case scenario (bottle of 25 minus 6 pills scattered around the dog, Valley of the Dolls style, leaves a potential dose of 19). So that is how much it costs to make my dog throw up, keep him overnight, give him IV fluids and activated charcoal and do multiple blood tests to make sure his kidneys are fine. He came bouncing home the next day, full of piss and vinegar and with a few shaved patches. His kidneys, needless to say, are tip-top. And he’s headache-free!
I don’t begrudge spending the money, especially on something that was entirely our fault, but we have spent the last few days musing on what the dog could have chewed on that would have worked out to be more expensive, and can only come up with a) the good camera, b) all of our furniture, all at once, or c) nothing, there’s NOTHING. Way to teach us a lesson, dog. You win this round. I’m sure it’s only the first of many.