It only takes a moment… A single heart stopping moment and tragedy can strike. I have always heard that, have always known that, and last night I lived that. But to think that it had all been avoidable makes it even harder to digest. The price of going on automatic pilot can quite literally cause tragedy to strike.
It began as an ordinary day. I got up, took care of the pups, showered and went to work. Another ordinary day at work. But there was a difference; around noon my blood sugar must have nosedived as I got the shakes big time. I ate lunch and grabbed some candy to stop the shakiness. I went home, took out the pups in the yard, and played a game of baby (ball) with Chase and Chelsea. I don’t know how Chase had injured his back paw but he had been limping a little but other than that I just thought he needed to walk it off. I go back to work, come home, and start dinner. Chelsea was underfoot but whenever there is food Chelsea is underfoot. I checked on Chase quickly and spotted him in his bed right under the computer. There was nothing unusual about that. I go about preparing dinner happy in the fact that Tom and I can have some alone time as the kids are working.
I have everything almost ready when Tom gets in. I freeze when I hear, “What is wrong with Chase, he can’t stand up.” He could not put his weight on his back foot. You know me with my hotline numbers. I know we will be going to the vet tonight. I get on the phone with the vet and we have an appointment in an hour. You know those are usually the longest hours of your life.
By this time we wolf down dinner and I carry Chase out to the car. Anyone who knows us knows how Chase dislikes the vet with a passion and almost always works himself into a tailspin when we go.
The doctor sees him and thank God it’s nothing serious. Chase will be put on an anti-inflammatory pill and needs to stay off the foot. I take care of the bill while Tom takes Chase outside and then we head for home.
Once at home and that’s where things go awry. By awry I mean a tragedy almost happened. Jackie had already prepared Chase’s meal and I wanted to get the pill into him ASAP. Rushing around I grab the pill bottle from my bag and head to the kitchen where I get a piece of bologna from the fridge and toss in the pill as well as Chase’s ¼ pill (Cosequin) which is glucosamine for dogs.
Chase has finished dinner and while I am getting ready to head out the door for my three mile walk I reach for my handbag. Usually I just toss it into my gym bag but instead I reach inside and pull out a bottle of pills. I look at the green bottle in a state of shock as I race for the kitchen where Chase’s meds are kept in a Mukasa candy dish on the table and my heart hit the floor. In with his meds is one of my bottles of pills. If you could understand for the briefest of seconds how my heart felt as though it had stopped. I had given Chase one of my Ibuprofen pills. To say I freaked out would be an understatement for the way I reacted. I got the vet’s office on the phone and was told by one of the girls that all the doctors were gone for the evening. Not what I wanted to hear. I knew what needed to be done. Chase needed to throw up that pill but I needed to know how to make him do that. The young girl gave me the number of the emergency vet which was a couple of towns away. I was afraid there wouldn’t be time. This woman who answered the phone was the sweetest woman I have spoken to in a long time. She knew how distraught I was. She knew the guilt I felt without me saying it aloud though I did, more than once. I didn’t have time to feel devastated by what I had done. I had to make it right.
Her name is Cathy, and she talked me through the whole ordeal. Jackie was running for the hydrogen peroxide, which I didn’t know if we had any. I was to give Chase ½ tablespoon and wait five minutes. If he didn’t vomit, I could repeat that process. My hands were shaking so bad that I spilled at least ¼ cup all over the kitchen table. Chase was fighting me tooth and nail. He didn’t want to take the peroxide, not that I blamed him. But this was life or death and I forced it down his throat. Cathy, bless her heart, was on the phone with us the entire time. She said it wasn’t going to be a pretty job but I had to look for that pill carefully when the contents of what was in his belly came up. This was my pup I would have no problem doing what needed to be done to save his life. And not even a minute later, which seemed an eternity, Chase gave up dinner all over the kitchen floor. Tom held him still, while Jackie stood by. I was on the floor and thank God on the bottom of the pile there was that blessed piece of bologna with both pills still wrapped tightly inside and completely intact.
A little while later I sat on the couch with Chase cradled in my arms the gym long forgotten. At that point in time the only thing that mattered to me was the fact that Chase would be all right.
I still couldn’t believe how careless I had been. I was angry with myself so no one had to tell me how I screwed up because I already knew it. All it takes is a split second. Your life can change in a split second because of stupidity. And this had to be stupidity at its finest. Chase has forgiven me; the problem is that I haven’t forgiven myself.
Thinking about it all in retrospect I cringe but what really stands out well beyond the fact that it was a careless thing to do is the fact that usually I toss my handbag into my gym bag and just head out to the gym. What made me reach into my handbag a second time? There wasn’t any reason for me to do so; there was nothing I needed at that moment. I know it was God leading me by the hand to find that bottle of pills otherwise I would have gotten a call from Tom that wouldn’t have been pretty because had we not caught this in time there was no doubt in my mind that Chase would not have made it. So why did I reach into my handbag a second time? Beyond the shadow of a doubt it was God showing me the horrible mistake I had made. Sometimes we have an intuition or a feeling or a vibe and we just shrug it off. Maybe we just need to be still for a moment and let God lead us.
This morning when I gave Chase his pills he wasn’t falling for the bologna bit. He knew there were pills in that bologna and he spit them out along with the bologna. When people say that dogs don’t remember they don’t know what they are talking about. Chase remembers the details clearly so now I think I might have to switch from bologna to chicken and quite honestly I know there won’t be a problem with that choice of meat as Chase loves chicken.
