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Dogged and Confused
26/6/11 09:47Once, when Sarcasm Girl was small, she had a stomach bug which had her lying on the hall floor in between bouts of vomiting, and I lay wrapped around my small, stinky girl, trying to comfort her. Last night, I more or less did the same for Emilly.
Poor Emily. Last night was a hard one for her. We had guests. One of them has a medical condition for which he uses medical marijuana, usually baked into something. And of course, in one of those moments when Emily was not under strict observation (because I was, like, making dinner, and other people were distracted) Em got at the guest's backpack and, with the surgical precision which is her hallmark, removed a small blondie and ate it, wrapper and all, without much disturbing the possessions surrounding it. We think this was about 8 or 8:30. The rest of us were watching Strangers on a Train while the dog slept on her bed next to us (a very usual thing). Around 10:30, when the movie finished up and it was time for Em's last squeeze of the night, the situation was discovered. The dog was a thief. Worse: the dog was stoned.
Actually, worse than that, she was (as near as I can tell) tripping. The Spouse got her outside for her squeeze, then brought her back in; she was wobbly and red-eyed and twitchy and shuddering. At first we weren't sure whether to laugh or cry--there was no chocolate in the goodie, so that anxiety was off the table. But poor Em was just in a state of miserable anxiety and dopiness (at one point she tried to lick herself and apparently forgot what she had meant to do once she got her head in position!). So I decided to act like her pack: lay down on the dog bed with her, cuddling her and soothing her. Sometimes she'd relax, but any sound or sudden movement would get her twitching and hyper-vigilant again. So, for about three hours I (very uncomfortably) lay there, arms around the dog, murmuring reassurance. I really don't know if it did a damned thing for her, but it was all I could think to do, so...
At about two a.m. she puked voluminously (including the plastic baggie that had contained the blondie. Stoooopid dog) and, once we'd cleaned her up and taken the cover off the bed to launder and moved her other, older bed into our room for her to lie on, she lay down and slept for a while. At about 2:30 she went through another round of twitching and shuddering and I went back to lying with her. By about 3 she had relaxed again, and I went to bed.
This morning she is bright eyed and her own self. We have not yet sedated her, because we kind of wanted to get the residual crap out of her system. And all during breakfast there were jokes about "Just Say No," aimed at the dog. But definitely: dogs and cannabis are not a happy combination.
Poor Emily. Last night was a hard one for her. We had guests. One of them has a medical condition for which he uses medical marijuana, usually baked into something. And of course, in one of those moments when Emily was not under strict observation (because I was, like, making dinner, and other people were distracted) Em got at the guest's backpack and, with the surgical precision which is her hallmark, removed a small blondie and ate it, wrapper and all, without much disturbing the possessions surrounding it. We think this was about 8 or 8:30. The rest of us were watching Strangers on a Train while the dog slept on her bed next to us (a very usual thing). Around 10:30, when the movie finished up and it was time for Em's last squeeze of the night, the situation was discovered. The dog was a thief. Worse: the dog was stoned.
Actually, worse than that, she was (as near as I can tell) tripping. The Spouse got her outside for her squeeze, then brought her back in; she was wobbly and red-eyed and twitchy and shuddering. At first we weren't sure whether to laugh or cry--there was no chocolate in the goodie, so that anxiety was off the table. But poor Em was just in a state of miserable anxiety and dopiness (at one point she tried to lick herself and apparently forgot what she had meant to do once she got her head in position!). So I decided to act like her pack: lay down on the dog bed with her, cuddling her and soothing her. Sometimes she'd relax, but any sound or sudden movement would get her twitching and hyper-vigilant again. So, for about three hours I (very uncomfortably) lay there, arms around the dog, murmuring reassurance. I really don't know if it did a damned thing for her, but it was all I could think to do, so...
At about two a.m. she puked voluminously (including the plastic baggie that had contained the blondie. Stoooopid dog) and, once we'd cleaned her up and taken the cover off the bed to launder and moved her other, older bed into our room for her to lie on, she lay down and slept for a while. At about 2:30 she went through another round of twitching and shuddering and I went back to lying with her. By about 3 she had relaxed again, and I went to bed.
This morning she is bright eyed and her own self. We have not yet sedated her, because we kind of wanted to get the residual crap out of her system. And all during breakfast there were jokes about "Just Say No," aimed at the dog. But definitely: dogs and cannabis are not a happy combination.