Tuesday night we completed the main hookup of our new plumbing system (this is relevant, I promise). Wednesday morning we checked it and had no leaks. Even so, I spent Wednesday morning at work, very busy, but unable to get an ugly picture out of my head. That the new plastic lines we had installed would give way at the fittings in the basement. That the entire morning, since we had looked at all of it at 5:45am, there was water pouring into the basement. I pictured the theater room completely submerged, the equipment ruined. I pictured all the Christmas decorations going in the trash. I added up the cost of all the tools and mechanicals and mentally reviewed our homeowners policy.
I was unable to get away from work and barely even got to eat lunch with Kevin. But I had long enough to transfer a bit of my paranoia to him so he offered to go home and make sure all was well in the basement. Breathing a sigh of relief 45 minutes later when I saw him pop back up on my instant messenger at work, I was able to 100% focus on my busy day. He would have called immediately, had my horrific vision of a flooded basement been true.
And then I got an e-mail from him. With the following pictures. In order.
Warning: THESE PICTURES ARE GROSS.
When you get to the last one, see if you can figure out exactly what happened while we were away.
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| Poop. |
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| More poop. |
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| Puke. LOTS of puke. |
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| More puke by the door...and more poop. |
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| And yup, that's more puke. And an open container of Ruby food. Ahem. |
I apparently didn't get the bottom dog food container fully closed and one of them is smart enough to get it open. I know the front part that was sitting open in the final picture was about half full. I didn't come close to scraping bottom when I fed Ruby that morning. We're guessing they teamed up. Ruby's pointy nose probably opened the food out of curiosity and she had a few more bites. That's just how she rolls.
But Sophie GORGED. For as long as she wanted between 5:45 and 11:30.
Kevin called me as I was looking through the pictures. First, assuring me that the basement was fine. And then explaining that instead of being met at the door by two happy, lonely dogs, neither of them would move from their spots on the furniture, or even look in his direction. Just faces of SHAME. Absolute shame. And from one, absolute physical misery.
Ruby was well-fed, clearly having eaten more than her share, but the prevailing feeling seemed to be shame from her. But Sophie...well Sophie's condition can only be described as BLOAT. Four hours later when I saw her, she could still barely walk. She had puked again (you're welcome for not taking pictures of THAT) all over her bed in the afternoon and her belly was so fat that she waddled. She looked like a Biggest Loser contestant on day one.
Now Ruby can get into trouble, but she's not a big eater. Not a gobbler any longer, not an overeater. As a matter of fact, as previously reported in this blog, she sometimes doesn't even eat all her food. But Sophie...well that's a different story. Sophie has never missed a meal in her 7 1/2 years of life. Never missed a crumb dropped or anything that might sound like a crumb. Never missed an opportunity to sit at the feet of someone holding something that LOOKS like food, with drool dripping from her big, droopy mouth.
Let's just say, Wednesday night, Sophie missed her first meal. And Thursday morning, she got a reduced portion of her regular serving. Even Thursday night, just a barely-level scoop. Finally by Friday morning, her shape was back to normal and she would look us in the eye again.
I'm wondering what sort of deal she made with Ruby to talk her into this crime, or if they intened to blame it on the cat.
Note to self: in addition to scanning the floor for things we don't want chewed up during the day, make sure the dog food container is shut tight.
...carry on.
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