Every parent of young children knows that time of day called “the witching hour.”  It’s the time of day when normally sweet, adorable children turn into monsters and just wile out.  Tantrums, mayhem and general unruly behavior reign.  I survived that stage with my kids and was happy to have that unpleasantness behind me.

Except that I’m here again.  Everyday between 5-7 p.m. Chili Dawg loses his mind.  My normally sweet, doe-eyed cuddly fur-baby turns into a wild-eyed, stalking beast.  We call him Menace or Rascal during this time.  My friend Laura calls hers Damn Puppy.  Yeah, that works too.

Okay, maybe he’s not a menace to society, but definitely to my house!  He steals paper from the printer, he gets into the trash can, he digs at the rug, he shreds newspaper–he literally stalks the house looking for things to destroy.   Nothing is safe and unless things are placed on a VERY high surface, they will be eaten, torn or chewed.   As the sun sets my house echoes with shouts of “DROP IT!”, pounding feet and scuffling paws as the kids try to rescue whatever he managed to steal this time.   We’re hip to his game and batten down the hatches when he starts to prowl, but he’s a crafty one and finds new ways to wreck havoc everyday.

Usually we’re exasperated, annoyed and inconvenienced by his antics, but when I saw this, I was scared.

He stole the bottle off my bathroom counter sometime between 6-7 p.m.   I found 5 aspirin on the floor and could only guess that the rest (about 25) were inside Chili Dawg and the piles of vomit on my bed.   A call to poison control and the animal ER confirmed that it was serious due to possible kidney failure, stomach problems and bleeding out.

A quick visit to the emergency room turned into a 4 day stay in the animal hospital.  The vet called each time they instituted a new procedure.  And the business manager called to tell us how much it would cost.   My husband asked, “how much?”  And I answered, “You don’t want to know.”  Some things are best left unsaid.  Just know that it was lots and lots and lots of hundreds.

Thank God that we had the money to pay.  And thank God that I had the good sense to buy PetPlan pet insurance not long after we got Chili Dawg.  Because of insurance I didn’t have to make a decision about my pet’s medical care based on finances.   Chili Dawg was in serious jeporady and we wanted the vet to do whatever necessary to ensure his full recovery.  We were so scared and couldn’t even imagine our little boo hooked up to IVs in the hospital!

(Sidebar: this when social media becomes more than just cyber chit-chat; people in my networks were so helpful with information and supportive with prayers and thoughts about Chili Dawg.)

The vets and techs at Village Vets took great care of Chili Dawg (an awesome practice, if you are here in Atlanta) and PetPlan took care of my claim quickly and without dispute.  Within 11 days of submitting the claim, I had a check in my mailbox for the full amount of my vet and ER bills, minus the deductible.  Most pet owners I know don’t have pet insurance; they think it’s an unnecessary expense or that it’s a scam that won’t pay out when redeemed.  Well, I can tell you that it does work and it is worth having.

Chili’s first day home from the hospital.  See his bandaged leg and sad eyes?

As for Chili Dawg, after a week of recovery at home he’s back to his rascally rabbit self.   Just today alone he’s stolen several socks, my camera (!), 3 towels, paper, a dyer sheet, a stuffed animal, a sweatband and a pillow.  He’s a menace, alright!  But we love him so much and happy to have him back where he belongs.

*I bought PetPlan after careful and exhaustive research of all pet insurance, hoping never to use it, but thinking that it just made sense to have it.  I was not paid or prompted by PetPlan to write this blog post.  That would be ridiculous, of course, because I wouldn’t know if it worked unless my pet was ill, but I’m saying it anyway because you never know how some people think.  I only identified the company in my post because I was impressed by their customer service and fast response.  The moral of this post is to put all medication up very high–higher than you think necessary–for the protection of your pet and that pet insurance is worth the expense.

I’ve done some gross things in my day.   Being a parent, it comes with the territory.  I’ve cleaned up my share of explosive diarrhea.  One time my son vomited a whole meal’s worth of chili.  From the top of a bunk bed.   It took me 2 days to get chili out of the carpet, off the walls and in the cracks and crevices of the bed.  Fun times.

But nothing–NOTHING–compared to a recent experience that I had with my dog.

I was just getting out of the shower when I heard my husband yelling, “Sherrelle, come quick!”   Thinking something was wrong with one of the kids, I ran downstairs in a towel where I was further summoned outside.  Throwing on a coat and my slippers I go out into the winter morning to see my son standing on the sidewalk holding our puppy, Chili Dawg.  And in his mouth is a dead squirrel.

Let’s stop for a minute and rewind.  Did you notice that my husband called me outside?  To take a dead squirrel out of my dog’s mouth while he watched from the porch?   And this is not the first time that I was asked to handle a dead squirrel.  When my dad removed a dead squirrel from our attic he handed it down to me in a trash bag, because he knows that my husband (who was standing right there) wasn’t going anywhere near it.

I’m not squeamish, but even I have my limits.  A dead squirrel in a trash bag is not the same as one hanging out of my dog’s mouth.  Oh, let me clarify: this wasn’t a dead squirrel (like from the attic); my dog had picked up squirrel road kill on his walk.   It was about 3/4 of a squirrel–minus the head–with blood and guts spilling out.  Yeah.

I actually tried to find photo online to accompany this story and there were many to choose from.  For some disturbing reason people take photos of squirrel road kill.   But I couldn’t bring myself to use a photo…my stomach turned just looking at the Google images.  I don’t believe that I will ever look at a squirrel the same again.

As disgusting as it was–AND IT WAS DISGUSTING–what choice did I have?  My kids couldn’t do it and my husband wasn’t going to do it.  My dog’s health depended upon me removing the squirrel from his mouth.  Which was not going to be easy, I could tell.  He had a death-grip on that squirrel and no amount of cajoling or bribing him with treats was working, so I put on rubber gloves and pried his mouth open.  To do this I was very close to the dead squirrel and the smell and site of squirrel guts was over-whelming.  I dry-heaved several times in the process, but finally pried the squirrel out of Chili Dawg’s mouth and threw it on the ground.   I disposed of most of the squirrel pieces before one final heave told me that I had reached my limit.  My husband (watching from the porch) saw that I could go no further and finished picking up the last bit of squirrel guts from the sidewalk.    I spent the next half hour sitting on the porch washing Chili Dawg’s face and brushing his teeth.

Still naked under my coat.

And that was the most disgusting thing that I’ve ever done.

On the 3rd day of Christmas my true love gave to me:

…..Chili Dawg.  Look at my puppy in his Santa hat; isn’t he too adorable?

As much work as it is having a puppy (and it’s a lot of work), it’s just as much fun.  I love his combination of exuberance and innocence; looking at him makes me laugh and he is a joyous part of my life.

We’re really looking forward to spending our first Christmas with Chili.  (Okay, the kids and are are excited; I can hear my husband now, “Stop!  No!  Argh!  Someone put that dog away!”  Chili’s antics frustrate him).  I bought Chili a stocking and it’s ready to be filled with treats, toys and balls (his favorite).  I was really worried about him bothering the Christmas tree because he can be really mischievous, but so far so good.   He’s taken a drink a few times, but mostly he stays away.  Now, it isn’t totally decorated yet, just the lights, so I do think that he will try to steal ornaments once they are on there.  And putting presents under the tree unprotected is out of the question because he loves to tear up paper.  I guess that I need to put a play pen around the tree or some kind of barrier; how ugly is that going to look?

What about you?  If you ever had a puppy at Christmastime, how did you keep him away from the tree?

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The 12 Days of Christmas by Funkidivagirl

On the 1st day of Christmas my true love gave to me…..the words to the song.

On the 2nd day of Christmas my true love gave to me….Christmas cards.