PETS, PETS, PETS!

BABY!

What do I know about Baby?

• Strange, Unusual, Funny Things:• Dug out for cat food• Ate bbq grill charcoal• Catches lizards• Eaten a whole box of treats

What do I know about Baby?

• Special talent or skill?• Sings

• Memory?• Foster digging out, Baby feeling guilty• Bulldozing Anthony• Rolling over whenever the doberman came by

What do I know about Baby?

• Name?• No one could think of anything

• Eat or drink unusual things?• Baby eats ANYTHING. • She’s a canine garbage disposal.

Ate charcoal

panicThrow up

She’s NOT

sick

Cleaned grill

Look

ed li

ke

coff

ee g

roun

dsFo

und

mor

e &

mor

e

Mr. Neal says

yikes!Call the vet

Bad stomach

problems

Wait

, I k

now!

On the carpet

She dug it up & ate it!

“Oh my gosh, what is THAT?!” I yelled as I walked into the bedroom. I curled my nose as I bent down to examine the black, grainy substance on the floor. I wasn’t exactly sure what it was, but I knew where it came from: BABY!

As I grabbed paper towels and plastic bags to clean up the disgusting mound of vomit, I found more and more of it scattered across the bedroom and into our closet. Gross!

By this time, my husband came strolling by to see what the commotion was about.

“Can you figure out what THIS is?” I asked as I pointed to the many mounds of ick.

“Oh dear,” he said with worry. “Baby’s must be really sick. If we have patients cough up anything that looks like coffee grounds when they’re on the ambulance, that’s a sure sign of a stomach bleed.”

“Quick! Get the phone!” I stammered. “We have to call Dr. Johnson and hope she’ll see Baby immediately!” I yelled as I began to panic.

What if Baby was really sick? What if she might need to go into the hospital? I was incredibly worried.

Luckily, Dr. Johnson, being the lovely woman she is, agreed to see Baby as soon as possible, even though she was booked solid.

She asked me to collect some of the remaining vomit and bring it with us to the office for examination.

I scurried into the bedroom closet (where three piles awaited my arrival) and scooped up what I could. It was nasty.

That was when I heard it.

“OH NO!” my husband cried.

“What? What?” I bellowed as I ran toward the living room to see what the matter was.

“Baby’s NOT SICK!” he said with a little irritation in his voice.

“Are you sure?” I asked. I was pretty skeptical that he knew what he was talking about.

“Yes. I’m sure,” he said most calmly.

“How do you know for sure?” I asked.

“Well, I know what she threw up now,” he said confidently. “Yesterday I cleaned the grill and scraped off all the blackened charcoal. Instead of throwing out the charcoal, I buried it in the back yard…over there, in the corner. Baby must have dug it all up…and ate it,” he said with clarity.

“EEW!” I said, disgusted. “No wonder she threw up. That’s gross!”

“I think you should call Dr. Johnson,” he added. “I don’t think we need to take Baby to the vet after all.”

“Yeah,” I agreed. “You’re right. Gross. She ate that gunk off the grill. I really shouldn’t be surprised. After all, she will eat ANYTHING.”