Picked up Sophie from preschool, dropped her off at play date.
Came home with both boys and found a half-eaten plastic sandwich bag in living room.
Realized bag had been filled halfway with raisins.
Vaguely remembered something about dogs + raisins + toxicity.
Marveled how the brain pulls out bits of long-ago information when most needed.
Questioned legitimacy of search results.
Got Owen more cheese.
Visited Snopes: “Raisins and grapes can be harmful to dogs.” TRUE
Called Ft. Thomas Animal Hospital.
Talked to tech.
Left half-eaten lunch on table.
Loaded both boys and Tucker into van.
Drove to Animal Hospital.
Took both boys out of van, stood them in front of a stone wall, made them touch stone wall and insisted they do not move.
Went back to van to get Tucker.
Ran behind Tucker across the (thankfully small) parking lot while both boys followed, waving their arms and screaming with glee.
Got inside Animal Hospital without dog or child running into street.
Witnessed boys go crazy over a small dog and four cats.
Watched small dog immediately seek shelter from screaming boys.
Realized Tucker just peed all over the floor and a wooden bench.
Waited for receptionist to get off phone so I could ask for paper towels while reminding boys over and over and over again the location of the pee while they ran around screaming “CAT! MEOW MEOW MEOW! CAT! MOMMY, CAT!” as if they’ve never seen a cat in their life (we own a cat).
Talked to receptionist, found roll of paper towels.
Ran into Andy while trying to keep Tucker out of the pee puddle. Thankful.
Let Andy handle Tucker while I cleaned up pee.
Reminded boys that cats have small ears and loud noises can scare them.
Wondered if boys’ ears were working.
Talked to tech, who claimed more than six raisins for a dog Tucker’s size could be toxic.
Learned that they needed to induce vomiting.
Asked for reassurance about outcome, which was given.
Filled out form.
Wondered about cost.
Vowed never to keep raisins in the diaper bag again.
Drove home sans Tucker (who is being kept for monitoring).
Put boys down for a nap.
Wrote this while listening to boys scream and jump up and down in their cribs.
Thought about 8pm.
And a glass of wine.
“A well-trained dog will make no attempt to share your lunch. He will just make you feel so guilty that you cannot enjoy it.” —Helen Thomson