Oh man, today was rough. I brought Ezra home from daycare a bit early because he had fallen in class and split his lip, and I wanted to make sure he was all right. (Yes, he’s fine.) (Yeah, I’m that mom.) Anyway, I get him home and take the kid upstairs for a diaper change, when I hear some suspicious rustling from the living room. I run down to find Mags eating raisins from a ziplock that had been sealed and put away. THIS DOG, I SWEAR.
So if you don’t know, raisins are toxic to dogs and can kill them (grapes, too). So I call the vet and they say she needs to vomit them up asap. How do you get a dog to barf on purpose? Make them swallow hydrogen peroxide. Duh.
Magda needed to drink 1.5 oz. of the stuff. So how do I get her to do that, you say?
The vet suggests a turkey baster down the throat. Yup. Just another Thursday at the Plesser residence.
So here I am, in the back yard, forcing a turkey baster into Magda’s open mouth, squirting peroxide down her throat as the poor girl is gagging and spitting it back at me (glaring at me incredulously for feeding her poison). Then we all wait in the yard for 12 minutes until she begins to heave, and up come the raisins, which I then have to hand pick out of the barf to make sure she doesn’t eat them again.
It’s a life of glory over here, I swear.
The photo at the top? That was from earlier today when I was testing my lights. She was feisty even before all of this. Imagine how much she likes me now.
For your internet share of the day, this article about how women in pain are not taken seriously at hospitals fascinated and enraged me.