We decided we'd go to Kohl's. NJMomma gave us each a gift card, and we both listed several things we want/need. We did not expect to walk in to a war zone. Unbelievable! Bunch o' savages in this town! Clothes were strewn about the floors. Imagine a younger sister's room, circa 1990. Shoes were thrown around. The sunglasses display held only two actual pairs of sunglasses. The rest were littered around the base of the turny-thingy, in various stages of disrepair. We began combing through the earrings, looking for the perfect pair of gold danglies. As we were looking through one of the last racks, a little old lady walked by us. Aw, how cute! She even smiled at us. And then, it washed over us. The smell! The foul, wretched smell. The little old lady farted as she walked past us. A run-by farting. Fearing that our olfactory sense might never recover, we quickly made our exit. I couldn't stop yelling about "that lady farted on us! She walked right by, smiled at me, and then when I opened my mouth, she let one rip! The hell?"
Later that same night, Smang and I went to Movie Trading Company and Half-Priced Books. We left the house around 9. We pulled into the driveway at 11:04. In the two hours we'd been gone, our two dogs managed to consume 20 devil's food cupcakes and a 3/4 pound Hershey's chocolate bar. So instead of our awesome plan (pills, movie, s'mores), we immediately rushed the girls to the emergency vet. Being that this is the second time I've seen this, with Lu, I was fairly calm. Until we got to the E.R. Then, in the parking lot, Smang was having some sort of struggle with Brownie. Brownie is like Pete Puma. She might eat Bugs Bunny, but she could just as easily forget what it was she was chasing in the first place. So, Smang is trying to corral the Brown Baby, I am already inside with Lu, and I started crying "Stop yelling at the dog! Just get in here! Time is the issue!" Smang is just looking at me, because I have gone from calm to hysterical in the blink of an eye. We fill out our paperwork, and answer all the doc's questions. He tells us how he's going to treat the dogs, and that since we caught them within the four-hour window, the toxicity ought to be low enough that inducing vomiting and some charcoal will take care of 'em. He even tells us we can take our bitches home, after they give up the goods, naturally. So, he gives Lu the shot, and almost instantly she barfs. She's an extremely cooperative girl. They give Brownie the shot, and...nothing. She sits in the little dog run, looking at them. ("I'm finishing my coffee!") She starts to drool. Her eyes are watering. She's breathing heavy. But Brownie refuses to regurgitate her hard-won chocolate. 25 minutes, she sits, willing herself not to vomit. And finally, as the medicine courses through her body, she can fight it no longer. She gives it up. Twice as much chocolate as Lucy.
Between the run-by farting and the dog E.R., Wednesday was not the best day.