Where's the Video Camera When You Need It?
My friend Bonny who is familiar with Quincy and loves my Quincy stories couldn't wait to send me the following story about another dog that sounds so much like Quincy Dog. Isn't it good to know you are not alone in the world? It did my heart good to read this hilarious story and know somewhere out there Quincy has someone just like him with a Mom just like me. I do take comfort that at least Quincy doesn't have a drinking problem.
This is really long but totally worth it 
Jasper and The Uncooked Yeast Rolls
We have a fox terrier by the name of Jasper. He came to us in the summer
of 2001 from the fox
terrier rescue program. For those of you who are unfamiliar with this type
of adoption, imagine
taking in a 10 year old child whom you know nothing about and committing
to doing your best to
be a good parent.
Like a child, the dog came with his own idiosyncrasies. He will only sleep
on the bed, on top of
the covers, nuzzled as close to my face as he can get without actually
performing a French kiss
on me. Lest you think this is a bad case of no discipline, I should tell
you that Perry and I tried
every means to break him of this habit including locking him in a
separate bedroom for several
nights. The new door cost over $200.
But I digress.
Five weeks ago we began remodeling our house. Although the cost of the
project is downright
obnoxious, it was 20 years overdue AND it got me out of cooking
Thanksgiving dinner for
family, extended family and a lot of friends that I like more thanfamily
most of the time. I was,
however, assigned the task of preparing 124 of my famous yeast dinner
rolls for the two
Thanksgiving feasts we did attend. I am still cursing the electrician for
getting the new oven
hooked up so quickly. It was the only appliance in the whole house that
worked, thus the
assignment.
I made the decision to cook the rolls on Wednesday evening to reheat on
Thursday morning.
Since the kitchen was freshly painted you can imagine the odor. Not
wanting the rolls to smell
like Sherwin Williams latex paint #586, I put the rolls on baking sheets
and set them in the living
room to rise for 5 hours. After 3 hours, Perry and I decided to go out to
eat, returning in about
an hour.
An hour later the rolls were ready to go in the oven. It was 8:30pm. When
I went to the living
room to retrieve the pans, much to my shock one whole pan of 12 rolls was
empty. I called out
to Jasper and my worst nightmare became a reality. He literally wobbled
over to me. He looked
like a combination of the Pillsbury dough boy and the Michelin Tire man
wrapped up in fur. He
groaned when he walked. I swear even his cheeks were bloated.
I ran to the phone and called our vet. After a few seconds of uproarious
laughter, he told me the
dog would probably be OK, however, I needed to give him Pepto Bismol every
2 hours for the
rest of the night.
God only knows why I thought a dog would like Pepto Bismol any more than
my kids did when
they were sick. Suffice to say that by the time we went to bed the dog
was black, white and
pink. He was so bloated we had to lift him onto the bed for the night.
Naively thinking the dog would be all better by morning was very stupid on
my part. We arose
at 7:30 and as we always do first thing; put the dogs out to relieve
themselves. Well, the dog was
as drunk as a sailor on his first leave. He was running into walls,
falling flat on his butt and most
of the time when he was walking his front half was going one direction and
the other half was
either dragging the floor or headed 90 degrees in another direction. He
couldn't lift his leg to pee,
so he would just walk and pee at the same time. When he ran down the small
incline in our
backyard he couldn't stop himself and nearly ended up running into the
fence. His pupils were
dilated and he was as dizzy as a loon. I endured another few seconds of
laughter from the vet
(second call within 12 hours) before he explained that the yeast had
fermented in his belly and
that he was indeed drunk. He assured me that, not unlike most binges we
humans go through, it
would wear off after about 4 or 5 hours and to keep giving him Pepto Bismol.
Afraid to leave him by himself in the house, Perry and I loaded him up and
took him with u s to
my sister's house for the first Thanksgiving meal of the day. My sister
lives outside of Muskogee
on a ranch, (10 to 15 minute drive). Rolls firmly secured in the trunk
(124 less 12) and drunk
dog leaning from the back seat onto the console of the car between Perry
and I, we took off.
Now I know you probably don't believe that dogs burp, but believe me when
I say that after
eating a tray of risen unbaked yeast rolls, DOGS WILL BURP. These burps
were pure Old
Charter. They would have matched or beat any smell in a drunk tank at the
police station. But
that's not the worst of it. Now he was beginning to fart and they
smelled like baked rolls. God
strike me dead if I am not telling the truth! We endured this for the
entire trip to Karee's, thankful
she didn't live any further away than she did.
Once Jasper was firmly placed in my sister's garage with the door
locked, we finally sat down to
enjoy our first Thanksgiving meal of the day. The dog was the topic of
conversation all morning
long and everyone made trips to the garage to witness my drunk dog, each
returning with a tale
of Jasper's latest endeavor to walk without running into something.
Of course, as the old adage goes, "what goes in must come out," and Jasper
was no exception.
Granted if it had been me that had eaten 12 risen, unbaked yeast rolls,
you might as well have put
a concrete block up my behind, but alas a dog's digestive system is quite
different from yours or
mine. I discovered this was a mixed blessing when we prepared to leave
Karee's house. Having
discovered his "packages" on the garage floor, we loaded him up in the car
so we could hose
down the floor.
This was another naive decision on our part. The blast of water from the
hose hit the poop on the
floor, and the poop on the floor withstood the blast from the hose. It was
like Portland cement
beginning to set up and cure. We finally tried to remove it with a shovel.
I (obviously no one else
was going to offer their services) had to get on my hands and knees with a
coarse brush to get
the remnants off of the floor. And as if this wasn't degrading enough, the
dog in his drunken state
had walked through the poop and left paw prints all over the garage floor
that had to be brushed
too.
Well, by this time the dog was sobering up nicely so we took him home and
dropped him off
before we left for our second Thanksgiving dinner at Perry's sister's
house. I am happy to report
that as of today (Monday) the dog is back to normal both in size and
temperament. He has had a
bath and is no longer tricolor. None the worse for wear I presume.
I am also happy to report that just this evening I found 2 risen unbaked
yeast rolls hidden inside my
closet door. It appears he must have come to his senses after eating 10 of
them but decided hiding
2 of them for later would not be a bad idea.
Now, I'm doing research on the computer on to how to clean unbaked dough
from the carpet, and
how was your day?