Don't Judge Me

First off, please let me say two things:

Don’t judge me.
Everyone is fine.

Saturday was quite an interesting day; interesting in the fact that I did nothing, for once. However, with three weeks to the wedding and pale skin, I decided it was time to sign up for some tanning. Fake and Bake, here I am.

After spending time with Nanny, who had nothing to “allow” because she was too busy stuffing KFC into her face, I headed to the local franchise of a national tanning place. The Size 0 clerk assured me I’d be tan in no time. Hot diggidy!

After that I got home, put my purse on the floor and went about my Saturday night routine: drink, pajamas, couch. I heard some scuffling in the kitchen but had not enough energy to care. Awhile later, Poncho comes to me, pounces up on the couch and falls over, dead like. “Oh, sweet boy, just wants to love on his momma.” He wedges himself into this nook between me and the couch, his head perched on my lap. He stays like this a bit longer than usual. I get up, get more wine and he’s moved to the foot of the couch as I return. I scoop up his body, and he’s completely limp. “Oh, sweet boy, you’re so tired!” I put him in on my bed and love on him for a bit. He’s pretty motionless, just his eyes are open and they’re fixated on me. “Something isn’t right,” I think. I know my dogs and know when something isn’t right. I go check on Jake. Sure enough he’s just as lethargic. By now it’s close to 10:30 p.m. I start the going to bed process. Again, I lay down next to Poncho and caress the side of his head. Again, he’s motionless except for the subtle movement of his breath filling and leaving his tiny lungs; his eyes roll toward me and away, gazing into the distance.

The next morning I wake up only to realize something is missing from my purse: my new fake and bake lotion. Those damn dogs. I head outside and get the lotion … only to pass a chewed up prescription bottle, with plastic capsules opened and clearly sampled.

The dogs ate my prozac.

No flippin’ wonder that they were so chilled out. I have no idea how many they ate, but at least two of the capsules were opened. Oh, I felt awful. They also sampled some gum, which they LOVE. These are things that can KILL dogs. I first thanked God for keeping them alive, cursed myself for leaving my purse on the ground, and then chuckled at them for their chilled moods.

They are fine. The next morning, they braved a five-mile trail run that was extremely hilly. The pills are put up and the purse will not be left on the floor again. And the dogs will never again have that kind of high.


  1. It takes 4 to 6 weeks for the Prozac to began having its effect, anyway.


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