Today is Not an Awesome Day, Part 2

Imagine this is a kitchen sink

You might have read on my Facebook that our littlest puppy, Kujo, escaped out of our backyard the other day & proceeded to gorge himself on bacon grease that the genius Meat Man so kindly dumped over the fence. I realized this when I discovered a greasy beard on him & then I washed him in the kitchen sink, which is always boatloads of fun. While I was drying him off (fortunately on the tile floor), he puked up like a cup of straight grease. My other 2 dogs seemed to think they'd hit the jackpot & my son was all flappity-flapping his hands & jumping up & down, screeching, "EWWWWWWWW, MAMA! GROSSSSSSS!!!! THAT'S NASTY!!!!" So the obvious thing to do was throw the puppy outside while I yelled at the other 2 dogs, busted out the grease-cutter & paper towels, & cleaned up. Right? Um, no, not quite.

Except that it was pretty cold outside & Kujo was wet. So, off I went to fish him out from under the porch & put him in the kennel while I used Google to scare myself to death figure out what to do next. There were some helpful links on there, but there was also a lot of links that said eating that much bacon grease could lead to pancreatitis, muscle tremors, & death. I'm freaking out & feeding him bread soaked in hydrogen peroxide like Google told me to, wondering whether he's shaking from all the vomiting, from the cold & wet thing, or because he's dying. I call up my mom's vet & ask the vet tech what I should do, other than what I've already done. She says the vet's out of the office on Wednesdays, but she'll text him & call me back ASAP. 

Why, yes. I am having one of those
days, too.

Meanwhile, Kujo is in the kennel yelping his head off & the Little Tyrant is "barking" along with him (for those of you who haven't had the pleasure of hearing it, his "bark" is actually a supersonic ear-piercing shriek). Four pieces of bread, six trips outside to vomit more grease & bread, & one giant headache later, the Meat Man finally comes home from his fishing trip. And by this point, I'm like super-frazzled & ready to rip Kujo's the Little Tyrant's someone's vocal chords out. The vet tech finally calls me back to tell me to do what I already did. Hey, what's that pain in my lower abdomen? Oh great, I started my effing period, on top of everything else today. And I have no painkillers, except for some cold & cough, which makes me whacktastic. 

The Meat Man gives me a big, long hug & rubs my back & strokes my hair, while telling me it's going to be okay. He sits me down on the couch, gets me some cold medicine & some water, talks the Little Tyrant into helping him cook dinner, & makes me remember how awesome he really is. The end.