The time I called Poison Control

Why did I call poison control? Not because I dropped a whole container of mixed greens on the ground (I cleaned it up before My Dog Cooper ate too much, and let’s be honest a little roughage is probably good for the boy). Not because the moles have returned to our yard (why do I think this has something to do with us training Coop not to dig in the yard anymore). Definitely not because Coop has discovered how much he likes greek yogurt (and I have discovered that having a dog lick the inside of my single serve container clean is exponentially more entertaining than rinsing it in the sink).

No, I called poison control because Michael went out of town. He was visiting his Dad in Arizona and the first full day that he was gone I left Coop home alone in the morning, trusting that he would relax until I got home at lunch to check on him. This is not a new routine; we’ve been doing this for a few weeks now, and it usually seems to work just fine. There are times when he chews the remote control, but for the most part he has been a sweet little puppy angel. But I think that somehow he knew that Michael wasn’t going to be home for a few days and it stressed him out. Michael was also a little stressed out…

he's in the jailhouse now

he’s in the jailhouse now

just kidding! He was not stressed, maybe a little embarrassed though. I got a text around 10pm on a Thursday saying “I just got arrested in a cowboy town set in 1881”. Now, I love my husband, but I had to think to myself, “oh no… did he get a D & D in a tourist town?” nahh, he was just fake incarcerated. But this story is about Cooper!

Like I said, he may have been a little stressed that Michael was out of town. And what does a stressed Special Agent do when he’s home alone? He chews. This is no surprise to anyone who has ever had a dog. Usually the Coop doesn’t chew on things that are hazardous to his health (knock on all of the wood, everywhere), but that fateful Tuesday he chose to chew on a bottle of weight loss supplements. And the lid popped off. And I walked in the door to see this

omg seriously

This is my incredible illustration of Cooper, chillin’ on his bed, surrounded by pills. I’m no Natalie Dee, but that’s a pretty accurate rendering! I was too freaked out to think, “you know what? I should whip my camera out and take a picture of this for the blog!” so that’s what you get. My mind was more in the “oh crap, ohh crap. OH CRAP!” mode. I checked the bottle, and of course even though it was a natural supplement there was caffeine (a doggie killer) and theobromide (the stuff in chocolate that kills doggies). I immediately called the vet, who immediately told me to make my Special Agent vomit by feeding him hydrogen peroxide, and to call poison control. Cooper was outside in the yard, doing his dog thing while I was on the phone and frantically scrambling around trying to count the number of pills on the floor and compare it to the number of pills that may have been in the bottle. Luckily there were only 15 pills missing (which were probably ingested by Michael, not Coop) and as I relayed the info to poison control, the buddy is barfing everywhere in the yard. While on hold waiting for the poison control vet to tell me that my dog is on the verge of death, I rub Cooper behind the ears and on his belly thinking to myself that the only thing that Michael asked me to do while he was gone was to NOT kill the dog. FAIL. The vet from poison control finally explained to me that the amount of caffeine and theobromide that Cooper may have ingested could cause some mild heart palpitations, and perhaps some high blood pressure issues, but since there was no knowing how much he actually ingested she advised me to simply keep an eye on my pet for the next 6 hours. If I saw pacing, excessive panting or licking, excitability, an inability to relax or if I just felt funny then I was welcome to take Cooper to the vet and have them pump his stomach and feed him activated charcoal.

Instead, this is what happened.



And then this happened.



Absolutely zero extra energy. No pacing, panting or restlessness, in fact, I saw the opposite of that. Thank goodness! I believe the proper thing to say here is, “All’s well that ends well.”


One thought on “The time I called Poison Control

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