Sunday, June 14, 2009

What was he thinking?

I have done my best to reconstruct what must have been going through my dog's head when the incident occurred:

Hey. Something smells good.
Must be dinner time again! Yay!
[It is completely dark out, and everyone is asleep]
Hmm. Not seeing anything in my dish.
But there is that yummy smell* again. It must be for me.
Aha! It's coming from way up high on that table over there.
Don't worry guys, I can still reach it.
[Grabs with teeth for object while on tippy toes of hind legs]
Success! Yummy!
Ow! Ow! What the @#?%!
Ouch! Tasty though.
I should keep eating. Maybe it will be easier if I eat more of it.
Ow! OK. That's it.
Just one more bite.

[After two days of painstaking pulling of bristles from his ears, face, and paws, plus $447 in vet bills for x-rays, fluid and medication injections, with the potential for surgical removal if the sharp metal spikes in his gut don't come out on their own]

I'm hungry.

*Brush had been used to clean grill after the pool party burger event.

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