Tagged with bag of bones

The Dog Days


Have you ever had one of those nights, where you certainly could’ve rested better (on account of any number of things)?  If you’re at all human, like me, I’m sure you probably have.  So my latest idea for the overall health of my sweet little ones (Gabby & Shadow) was to feed them food that I have prepared myself, aka The Chicken & Rice Diet (plus my addition, sweet potatoes). Courtesy of my friend, Charles (Hi charles, if you’re reading!) I had this idea, and then researched a few recipes online.  It all looked do-able, much like cooking dinner for yourself… so Troy & I decided it was worth a go.  We bought some 10 pounds of chicken, I cooked it all in the crock, and lovingly chopped it up, combining it with rice and sweet potatoes as I went.

I let the little guys give it a try!  Shadow, being a dog, scarfed it right up and asked for more.  Gabby, though, ate a few delicate bites, being her kitty self, and decided she had better things to do.  ”Right!”  I thought… “That seems pretty good.”

The next morning, I was awakened out of my deep bearlike hibernation when I heard a crash, and also heard Shadow barking.  I was half-mindedly aware of the teams of men outside working on power lines, but.. that didn’t explain the crash.  It turns out, I had forgotten one small piece of the equation during my meal-prep the night before.  I had left a bag of bones, many bones, in the kitchen sink.  Shadow had somehow been downstairs (probably stayed there during Troy’s morning routine, accidentally) and had eaten not one.. but ALL of them!

I was horrified.  Our dog has such a conscience.  At first sight of him, as I walked to the main floor of our home.. I knew something was wrong.  His ears were flush against his head, and his eyes were looking up at me like two dark saucers, asking for forgiveness.  Then I looked all around, and spotted the scene of the crime.  Hardly anything left of the chicken remains except for an empty walmart bag on the floor of our kitchen.  ”Oh No!”  Shadow…

Shadow had been having issues since yesterday, but I didn’t think he was actually going to be sick.  I didn’t think he would have enough problems to warrant the “Bad Doggy Mommy!” thoughts that I ended up having.  Then, at 3:45 in the AM I was awakened to hear him crying sadly and somewhat apprehensively.  ”What could be wrong?”  I said in a groggy state.  I thought about it and laid my head back down.  Then Shadow really went crazy.  ”Ok, sweet boy, I’m coming!”  I was too late.  There, above our steps, was a nice pile of doggy presents.  I swiftly leaped over the presents, and rushed with Shadow downstairs.  He knew where he was going.  I let him outside, and then downstairs into the basement.  The poor boy was suffering!  I looked up the ailment online, finding that you should feed soft foods to a dog who has recently indulged so heavily on bones.

I learned my lesson, and Shadow is still learning his.  I should have protected him from the bones!  Yet this really reminds me of so many things I’ve read about being a parent.  My heart ached seeing him so in pain, and I felt it was my fault that he had come to trouble in the first place.  Much like a parent, at 3:45 in the morning, I rushed to his rescue, though I wish I could’ve rescued him before he had gotten into it so thick.  Sometimes, you don’t see how intensely you love someone, (my dog) until you see them in danger.  I certainly got a swift kick in the pants reminding me not to take him for granted.

And that is the story of my morning.

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