It was over a week ago that our beautiful lab Bonnie scarfed down 10 chocolate croissants. We feared the worst. After several days of severe intestinal distress, the inevitable happened. Things took a turn for the worse.
No, she didn't die. But, someone left the dishwasher door open and there was only disappointing drips of asparagus soup to lap up. A fate worse than death for dog who just recently discovered how sublime chocolate is and is jonesing for another fix. That she'll never get. No, her life from here on out will be a series of disappointments and humiliation.
Including being dressed up as a severely nearsighted magician and then having the evidence of it posted on the internet. Then ridden around the house by an 80 pound child like a circus elephant. And still, there is no chocolate reward. It was a bitter grief, experiencing such cocoa bliss only once and then to lose it. Forever. On the other hand, we were just happy she survived her gluttonous accidental suicide attempt.
Life must go on. And so, we went to happy hour at the pool to resume life as normal and left Bonnie and Clyde home alone together. (Which is how the pain au chocolat mishap occurred the first time.) It was movie night. Finding Nemo was playing.
Over some cheese and crackers and a couple of glasses of wine, it seemed like a good idea. The life guards releasing goldfish into the pool for the kids to catch. And take home. Wait. The water is chlorinated. The fish don't even stand a chance. Obviously no one there belonged to PETA. That's how we came to have Finley.
Which was immediately renamed Pickles. For obvious reasons. Ok, I have no idea. It's definitely not because someone spilled pickle juice in his bowl. Yet.
So how long will Pickles survive? And by the way, does anyone know if chocolate is toxic to fish?
Epilogue: Soon after writing this Pickles started doing the dead mans float and had a burial at sea.
PICKLES (AKA: Finley) FIP (Float in Peace)
6/20/13 - 6/24/13
