The Diaries of a Fat Chick

Last night, being the competent person that I am, I started wrapping Xmas presents and stocking stuffers.   This year, the mumsi entity is living in America and asked me if I would purchase my brother’s presents and stocking stuffers for her and mail them to him.  Being the wonderful child that I am, I promptly agreed and last weekend I purchased most of his items (because I am awesome).  Our family has a long standing tradition when it comes to stocking stuffers, each stocking must have a case of those ferraro rochers and a toblerone bar.  This year, instead of buying the giant toblerone bar for George, I chose to buy the smaller yet still delicious package of six 50 gram toblerones.  I also stepped it up a notch by buying him a package of the four 40 gram dark chocolate ferraro rochers.  Because I am awesome.

After spending a couple of hours last night sorting various gifts and stocking stuffers for Ben, George and Dad, I wrapped up most of Ben’s gifts and stocking stuffers, stuck Dad and George’s in separate bags in the empty laundry basket currently sitting in the middle of my kitchen floor (reason for empty laundry basket sitting in the middle of my kitchen floor:  I am a terrible housekeeper.  Let’s carry on shall we?), put Cuda and Hannah away in there kennel/room, said goodbye to the angelic Cassie sleeping so sweetly on her pillow in the living room and headed off to my Weight Watcher’s meeting. 

After successfully losing 1.8 lbs (yay me!), I swung by the school and picked up Ben from his parent/teacher interviews and drove home.  And what did we see when we opened up the front door and walked into the living room?  Angelic Cassie lying on the floor of the living room surrounded by a sea of empty chocolate wrappers.

Me:  Oh that fucking dog.

Ben:  Oh crap.

Me:  No, no, no…tell me she didn’t eat all of the chocolate.  *running frantically to the laundry basket*

Ben:  Did she?

Me:  Fuck me.

Ben:  I’ll take that as a yes.

Me:  Fuck me sideways!

Ben:  Calm down dear. 

Me:  I’m going to kill that fucking dog.

Ben:  Maybe she didn’t actually eat it.

Me:  She has chocolate smeared on her lips and she’s surrounded by bits and pieces of toblerone boxes.  Of  course she ate it!

Ben:  *starts doing a load of laundry*  I don’t see why she gets to each chocolate when I’m not allowed to eat chocolate.

Me:  *grabbing the emergency vet number from the fridge*  I cannot talk to you about your inability to eat chocolate right now; and why the hell are you doing laundry?  We’re in a crisis here man!

Ben:  True but that’s no excuse to play floor hockey tomorrow in a dirty t-shirt and shorts.   Besides, you seem to have it all under control.

Me:  *dialing emergency vet number*  Is that sarcasm?  Because I gotta tell you, if that is sarcasm, you’re showing an astonishing lack of tact for someone who wants to have marital relations sometime during the next six months. 

Ben:  Have you ever known me to be sarcastic dear?

Emergency vet:  Fairfield emergency vet, how may we help you?

Me:  Yeah, my dumb dog just ate six 50 gram toblerone bars and four 40 gram ferraro rochers. 

Ben:  Ooh, look a hershey wrapper.  Tell them she ate a hershey candy too!

Emergency vet:  Oh dear.

Me:  And a hershey candy. 

Emergency vet:  You’d better bring her in.

We hoisted our chocolate smeared bulldog into the backseat of the car and headed off to the emergency vet; Ben sat serenely in the passenger seat, humming softly under his breath while Cassie relaxed in the back seat, oblivious to the threats and cursing and inappropriate name calling directed her way the entire trip.

We checked her in, the very nice vet looked her over and then took her to the back to give her a drug that would induce vomiting.  We waited patiently in the waiting area for about half an hour and then:

Emergency vet:  So, we’ve given Cassie the drug to induce vomiting but she’s not um, actually vomiting yet.  It’s a little weird, normally they start vomiting like 5 minutes after receiving the drug.

Me:  Oh that fu-

Ben:  Well it was pretty good chocolate, I don’t blame her really.  So, what happens if she won’t vomit it up?

Emergency Vet:  Well, we’re actually going to try giving her some hydrogen peroxide, that should make her vomit.  If it doesn’t, we’ll give her the activated charcoal and probably send her home.  She’s a pretty big dog and it was mostly milk chocolate that she ate, which all things considered, is the best chocolate she could have eaten.  Of course, if you’re really worried, we could put a tube down her throat and try to pump it out of her stomach but that’ll cost extra.

Me:  Oh that fu-

Ben:  Well, let’s see what happens with the hydrogen peroxide shall we?

10 minutes later -

Emergency vet - Two thumbs up!  She’s throwing up the chocolate plus the cardboard and foil along with it.

Ben:  Hurrah!

Emergency vet:  Of course, she promptly tried to eat it again after throwing it up.

Me:  Ugh.  Now I’m going to throw up.

Ben:  It was really good chocolate.

Emergency vet:  Can you give us about another hour or so?  We’re going to give her the activated charcoal to settle her stomach and suck up any toxins left in her stomach and then she should be ready to go home.

Ben:  Sure, we’ll just go grab a bite to eat.

As we left the clinic, we ran into our very own Dr. Katie who works locum at the emergency vet.  She was dropping by to pick up her paycheque and when she heard what happened, promptly gave us her cell number and told us the next time something like this happened to call her, she would meet us at our own clinic and do what needed to be done.  It would be a lot cheaper for us.  Which was unbelievably kind of her and I think I fell in love with her just a little at that point.

We went to our local Denny’s , ordered a bite to eat and called George.

George:  Hello.

Me:  George!!

George:  Sheila, what’s happening?

Me:  That fucking dog Cassie just ate your stocking stuffers.

George:  What the hell?

Me:  All the chocolate stocking stuffers.

George: Ooh, that ain’t good.

Me:  Yeah.  She’s going to be fine though, she’s vomiting as we speak.

George:  Nice.  So, does this mean I don’t get any stocking stuffers this year?

Me:  Well, you’ll get some but they’ll have tooth marks and dog slobber on them. 

George:  Excellent.

Me:  I knew you’d like that.

At 11pm we drove back to the clinic and picked up Cassie.  I don’t know what Dr. Katie said to them but our vet bill went from being $272 to $235 and I fell in love with her just a little bit more.  We took Cassie home where she promptly smeared charcoal all over the floor and my pants, cleaned her face up, did all the chores I meant to do earlier and fell into bed at 12:30.  The evening ended with one chocolate-free bulldog and $235 less in our pockets all because I am a complete fucking idiot.  Yay me. 

Now you’re probably saying, wow…lucky they just had $235 lying around to use for their emergency vet visit…to that I say - HA!  That $235 was the money put aside for Ben to buy my Xmas presents this year. 

One chocolate-free bulldog = no presents for Kelly under the Xmas tree.

And I fully deserve a present-less Xmas because I am a complete fucking idiot.

I took pictures of the dirty little criminal and what was left of the chocolate.  Enjoy:

 

Note how unhappy she is that she had her sweet, sweet chocolate taken away from her.  And if you look really closely you’ll see the blue streak around her eye from the drug that didn’t work and the charcoal on her lips:

In conclusion, would anyone like a broken bulldog with a weakness for chocolate?  I’m giving her away real cheap….

Comments(1)

Can you find the rattie in this picture?

There he is!

I’ll say one thing about Francis - the dude loves the boy. 

Loves. Him.

It doesn’t matter what Ben is doing, if he’s on the couch, Francis is sitting near him, on him, chewing on his shirt sleeves, stealing his paperwork.  As Jess would say, “Francis thinks Ben’s the shit.” (Don’t ask, she’s a weirdo.)

And the feeling seems to be mutual:

As I said, Francis loves the boy:

Will, on the other hand?  Yeah, not so much.

Will:  Do not come near me foolish boy!

Edgar is curious about what the boy is looking at:

But then finds something more interesting to look at out the window:

Finally, he joins Will in a splendid show of solidarity and angry disapproval of the boy:

Will and Edgar:  We do not approve of the boy and will therefore, not leave this end of the couch until he is safely out of sight.

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Ben gave me an early Xmas present.  Her name is Matilda and she’s a hairless hamster.  I’ve never seen a hairless hamster before…she’s pretty cute… and naked - with two of the cutest freckles you’ve ever seen on her bum.

She’s a typical hamster- she’s already bitten me at least three times.  I find it rather endearing actually.  She likes to run on her wheel, stuff her cheeks full of food and sleep all curled up in her igloo, wrapped in fleece.    Like I said - typical hamster.

Also, we think she might have some type of brain damage.  I don’t know how Ben does it, but he always manages to bring home the damaged ones (e.g. Cassie the broken bulldog and Cuda, the terminally stupid).

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