my tummy hurts....

The essay I had been working on for today’s post will be postponed, as my day took a drastic turn for the worse, and I must report to you, loyal readers.  Mama had to take me to the emergency pup hospital this afternoon.   Don’t worry, friends, I will recover in a couple of days.  Let me explain what happened…

Mama had a tennis match this morning, so I was home supervising my siblings for a couple of hours.   As mentioned earlier this week, mama rearranged and fortified the panty again, after our last infiltration.  She moved all edibles to the top shelves, which are chest-high, and above, to a human.  I won’t bore you with all of the details, but, bottom line, I was able to persuade Wilbur to jump atop the clothes dryer and take a huge, (and literal), leap of faith.

the evidence has been submitted... (cut to "Law and Order" gong)

Wilbur has no fear, and is adept at jumping and climbing.  He says that if he were a human, he’d do parkour, which I think is far too dangerous and risky, even for one with his skills.  But, getting back to our morning, Wilbur was able to pull down a plastic basket filled with dried goods.  I ate, and ate, and ate.  I consumed pasta, rice noodles (I feel them expanding as I write), sunflower seeds, chips, sugar, and a few unmentionables (pieces of plastic bags and part of a box).

I stuffed myself silly and left a huge, and incriminating, mess.  Wilbur has the ability to stop eating when he’s had enough, but me, I don’t reach the “enough” stage until my stomach has distended to twice it’s normal size.  This is the first time I’ve taken my eating addiction to this level, and now I am paying the price.

Mama took one look at me, and immediately rang our vet (shout-out to Blue Ravine Animal Hospital).  When mama explained what had happened, they told her to get me in, immediately.  My actions can cause canine bloat , which is the second leading killer of dogs, after cancer.  And, the bloat can turn deadly within an hour, so time is of the essence.

After a round of x-rays, and some humiliating probing (and breaking mama’s bank!), the doc thinks I’ll be fine in a couple of days.  I’m in pain, and no doubt, it’s a lesson I needed to learn.  Dear readers, do not blame my mama.  She feels horrible, and she never could have guessed the depths of my addiction, and lengths I’ll go through to feed my habit.

I am ready to admit to the universe, that I have a problem, and I think an intervention may be in order.   Please keep me in your thoughts, friends… I’m feel like merde tonight...



  1. KB says:


    Your grandma told us about your blog. I really enjoy logging on to see what you have been up to! Hope you feel better after your latest “binge” eating episode!

    Have a great weekend.

  2. atticus says:

    Neighbor Karen,
    We miss seeing you! So happy to hear you’re enjoying the blog…. tell your friends… pass on the puppy love!

  3. Sabrina says:

    Oh NO! Atticus, sweetie, that is the saddest story ever! I’m glad you are going to be ok, but so sad that you feel horrible now. Consequences suck. And your poor Mommie must have been beside herself. I’m so sorry for you both.

  4. Taz says:

    Dude! That is over the top even for me. Although when I figured out to open the laundry room door and get to the cat food as a tot I was one stuffed pup. And, um, OK Mama has a picture as the background of her computer of what it looked like after I found the bag of flour on the counter when she was out. But again, I was young and foolish. Dude, you are old enough to know that dried pasta is just not that big a thrill. Not like the hunk of cheese that Coretta, my dog-sister discovered the a couple of days ago while Mama and me were out.

  5. atticus says:

    Taz, I absolutely need that picture of you after your baking attempt! Sounds classic… I’m working on a page of friends photos, and I need to add that pic!
    I hear you on the pasta thing…but, clearly, I have an “issue”. I am a food addict.
    Congrats to Coretta on her cheese score—much tastier than dried goods.

  6. Melinda says:

    Atticus, you are on your way to recovery. The first step is to admit you have a problem and you have done that! You go dog!!!


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