By now, I’m sure you’ve noticed my growing dog fanaticism… It all makes sense: after all, I do run a dog website (StarPups*Shanghai plug!). Plus, I’m involved with SCAA (Second Chance Animal Aid), where love for animals takes on a cult-like fervor. So what started as a hobby has quickly developed into something more: I now volunteer weekly at the animal shelter, attend monthly SCAA meetings, research new pet services for StarPups, and juggle a growing rolodex of doggie contacts. And things will only grow from here, as I’m starting up with Animals Asia Foundation at the end of August (hopefully).
Anyway, I’ve got a dog story for you. As you know, earlier this week I returned from a 10-day trip around southern China. During my travels, I missed my puppies A LOT. Especially hearing about the South Korean scientist cloning an Afghan hound, I really felt fortuate for the good temperaments of my babies. After I got home, I started calling R&M my angels on Earth. I know, totally dorky and out of line with my atheistic views, but I liked the sound of it. Angels on Earth. Has a nice ring, don’t you think?
Naturally, the very next day, John and I came home to bathroom garbage strewn all over the floor. Devils in the house! What the hell were R&M after? Brace yourself, because this is a bit disgusting: my used tampon. Yep, it was gone. Not a shred left. Aside from being grossed out by the thought of my angels chomping on some bloody, gooky stuff, I started worrying (big surprise) about worse-case scenarios. What if the tampon got stuck? I began madly researching “dog ate tampon” online. Some people fed laxatives, others induced puking… Fuck. I pulled out my dog nutrition books. I could give them hydrogen peroxide or a teaspoon of petroleum jelly, but which dog? Who the hell ate it? They both acted guilty.
I called my vet friend Nathalie in the US. She said all I could do was monitor and inspect their dumps for 72 hours. If either stopped eating/shitting, we were in deep trouble: intestinal obstruction, i.e. surgery.
So began the poop inspections. These last two days, I’ve had to smush it around in the plastic bag like I was searching for gold. Who knows whether it was consumed whole or part, right? (Of course, John doesn’t have the stomach for such things.) Luckily, my days as a solid waste engineer prepared me well for such checks. And I only had to inspect for two days, because this morning, I was overjoyed to find the evidence. Guess who?
Remy. This is an important discovery, because despite their “Angels on Earth” status, in the last two years they’ve gotten into the trash (kitchen trash) maybe three times. And each time, it was a mystery. Now we know. Looks like Martin is turning out to be the true goody goody– and a better prospect for Dr. Dog.
Get out, man! That story was more exciting than finding out who died in the last Harry Potter book! I would have NEVER picked Remy. How am I supposed to be the goddess-mother to a used tampon eating pup? She’s been deceiving us all with her pointy ears and fear of halogen lamps. Ahhhh, I love them both anyway.