I pull up to the curb. It's ten thirty because i had to stop at the grocery store for toilet paper. I hear high pitch barking from the outside of my apartment.
Oh geez! I think as I scramble up the sidewalk. Orion must not have liked going back in his crate after my nine-year-old neighbor was done watching him. I figured it'd be smart to break up the evening when I have 1-10PM shifts with the neighbor kid as I wouldn't have hyper pup in the evening... but if he barks like this...
I open the door.
"What are you making all this racket about?" His little blonde self is standing in his crate, expectantly. I walk up, open the crate door and give him a gentle hug as he struts out.
"Well hang on! I need to get your leash," I say as he continues strutting right out the apartment front door. I scramble after him, tossing the purse, the groceries and keys to the futon and snatching the leash from the floor. I smile as I notice the water bowl my neighbor put in the crate. I suspect it was not Zachary so much as his mom, but it warms my heart all the same. Orion stands on the steps scanning the scenery. Apparently the barking was not due to excessive need to go pee.
"Come on Orion, let's go pee." We walk about the yard. He's moving slowly. He pees, we return to the inside.
"Would you like a frosty paw?" (Dog ice cream) I figure as I fed him at 5 perhaps a small treat would be a nice carry over feeding till the morning. Popping open the freezer, I pull one out.
I look at it. Take a lick.
Hand it to him again. No interest.
It's then that I notice the bag of bones on the top of my fridge is empty. Not just shy one or two, but flat out empty.
I look at Orion.
I look at Orion's sides that are now clearly bulging out at the sides.
He didn't... I'm thinking...
But it's true. There had to be eight plus bones in there!
Zachary must have fed him every single one in the two freaking hours I left the two alone.
He wouldn't know better. I already tried having the conversation with him as to why he shouldn't eat 30 chicken nuggets just because he could and he got all pouty with me, how can I expect him to understand it's not okay to feed my dog 8 chew bones??!
Orion's going to be so sick.
Four chew bones was diarrhea for two days. EIGHT???!
I put the frosty Paw back in the fridge. "Well, let's see if we can work out a poo in the back yard."
We waddle around the yard, sniff this, that, whatever. He pauses once for the tinest liquid poo. I can't help but think of what it feels like when you eat the wrong thing and it's just brewing in you and then finally purging from your system in a glorious rejection poo. If only he could get there.
We walk around. I feel around his tummy to make sure it isn't twisted. "Kate? Do you think he'll be okay?" I ask my sister as she's the only one up. "Oh yeah. He'll be fine. I just wouldn't feed him tonight."
"Myle's has eaten worst than this right?" I ask. Myles being her dog who as a puppy destroyed everything in the house.
"Oh sure; he's eaten lipstick, diapers...and you can see his stomach stick out too."
"Oh good." I pause. "Maybe the best rule of thumb is to tell Zachary he's not allowed to feed Orion ANYTHING." My mind drifts back to the day Zachary fed him a full, and I mean full, bowl of food when the little pup only ate a cup twice a day.
We wander back inside and I settle in to the futon. Orion puts his nose on the cushion but doesn't make the effort to jump up. Eventually he opps to make the effort and lies curled next to me.
"I hear you buddy. I'd be in the same boat if I kept eating those fuzzy noodles today for lunch." I say thinking back on the year old can of soup I was attempting to eat.
"Well, maybe we can just have you sleep it off. You're laying low in the morning no questions about it."
He doesn't even bother to argue.
"Come on now, we're going to bed."