Thursday, January 05, 2006


This morning, I drop one of the pills and vitamins I take each day, a tiny allergy pill. To keep pets from finding it, I drop to the floor and look for it, checking out the space along the counters, and between the refridgerator and the counter. Nothing.

As I turn to look away from the kitchen counter, there is Franklin, watching me. He licks his mouth, usually a sign of just finishing off something. Scotties have the tongue of an anteater. Did he eat it?

I get up and the ramifications of his taking medication start working its way through my slow brain. I call the vet. The assistant urges me to call Poison Control while she looks up the drug in their books. The writing on the bottle is so tiny that I can hardly make out the drug's real name -- even with my glasses. I figure it out. Poison Control said that she wouldn't induce vomiting in a small child for this drug, but that it might make him sleepy, and someone should watch him, but it was probably ok.

I call the vet again. Bring him in for dog daycare and we will check his vitals and keep him under observation. Franklin is excited about getting back in the car, the first since our Texas trip. I leave him there. I force myself to wait till 11:30 to call and check-up on him. He's fine.

Poisoning your own dog -- maybe. Sheesh.

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