Over a year ago I wrote a post titled Buckeye's First Kill. A short little post about my delusional children thinking my dog was a cold blooded killer. With only circumstantial evidence, I pronounced her Not Guilty. I can do that because I'm the mom and I run the whole show around here.
Last month when the squirrel incident occurred, I started to wonder if I should have examined the mouse evidence a little closer. Clearly she killed the squirrel, I was the primary witness.
Over the three years that we've had her I've seen her chase moths, flies and bees. Right after the squirrel kill she was sitting in between the husband and I on our recliner couch. The whole damn couch reclines you could fit five people on it, the most comfortable couch we've ever had, we never leave it and the dog is right there with us snuggled up in front of the fireplace and TV. So we are all three sitting there, but the dog is alert and her ears are up. We are expecting the barking to start next and then a run to the window, but instead she snaps a fly out of mid air.
"Did you see that?"
"Did she get it?"
At that moment she spit it out, sniffed it, toyed with it and ate it.
We were too dumb struck to stop her.
"She's wonder dog."
"Did you see that?"
Clearly she's been practicing her attack skills when we are at work. I never really thought she ever caught the flies and bees, but obviously she now has the taste for blood.
On the rare occasion that the husband takes a day off of work he schedules car stuff, home improvement stuff and on this week, the week after the squirrel incident he scheduled dog stuff. An appointment for her check up and manicure. I came home for lunch before they left, she was outside playing or having a snack because I saw her chasing something that was flying. Please don't drag in a dead animal until after I have my lunch baby.
"Did you feed her? Because she's eating bugs."
"Do you want a sandwich? Your dog is chasing bugs."
We ate and I got ready to go back to work.
"I'll bring the dog in."
I looked towards the door and she was sitting on the steps shaking, "The hell?"
I brought her in and gave her a biscuit, it dropped out of her mouth. Okay somethings wrong. She a biscuit whore, sometimes I think she just asks to go out to get a biscuit. And when I say ask, I mean stare at me, a real in depth stare, right into my very soul she stares. It's a 'I have to pee stare.' And then sometimes I don't think she even goes down the steps.
But anyway, she drops the biscuit and I see foam in her mouth.
"Babe, look at her?"
"I guess we're going to the vet a little earlier than expected, go back to work, she'll be fine, I'll call you."
"I got this."
Back at work I fretted. He'll forget to call me. I should have called in sick. He can't even remember the years the boys were born and I entrusted the dog into his care. Damn.
Then my cell phone rang, "Wonder dog is allergic to bees."
"The doctor thinks there is a bee sting on her tongue, gave her a shot of Benadryl and steroids. Pick up some Benadryl on your way home."
See, he's clueless, a mom always has Benadryl in the medicine chest. Of course the stuff at home was generic, so I was going to stop for the real stuff, keep the generic for the kids.
So the mouse and squirrel hunter, venus fly trap is allergic to bees. How the hell am I suppose to know if she gets stung? Do I have to carry an epi stick with me now?