When my daughter was two years old, I was making the bed one day when she came out of our bathroom chugging a glass of water.
I said, “Boy, you sure are thirsty!” Then I realized that I hadn’t heard any water running. I walked over to find a liquid trail from the doorway to where she had dunked her cup into the toilet. But, at least it was clean water. You know, with that bleach tablet in the tank and all.
Other than that, and my son once taking a sip of dishwasher rinse aid, I haven’t had to call poison control. However, if there was an emergency service to ask whether the dogs were going to die because of something they ate, I would have it on speed-dial.
Our 11 year old Labrador has been the worst culprit. There was the time she ate an enormous, solid, chocolate bunny, the time a chicken bone slipped out of my fingers and she caught it in mid-air and swallowed it whole, and my personal favorite…when she ate a breast pad when I was pumping for my daughter. By the way, there is something infinitely wonderful about a man who will go through the dog’s poop to make sure your breast pad hasn’t entangled itself in the mutt’s intestines. Hi honey!
As for the new puppy…she has a penchant for dead squirrels, dead birds and my son’s vomit.
And, that bleach-filled toilet water? It turns out the dogs like that too. I suppose I should count my blessings because my kids never ate any breast pads.