Sonia To The Rescue!

Many of you know that we are the proud parents of a fawn boxer named Carson (or Sonia, as LM prefers to call her). We adopted her from a shelter about four years ago and let's just say she's not the sharpest tool in the shed. Or, is she...?

The other day there was a package of a dozen powdered sugar donuts sitting on the counter. I know what you're thinking: donuts?? Nona buys donuts?? No, she doesn't. I mean, sure, I love a good donut-- but let's face it-- they're of the devil. You could not pick a more vile food on earth. Bleached, processed, simple carbs, fried in trans fats then coated in more bleached, processed, simple carbs. Yikes. Delicious? Heck yes-- but yikes. Donuts are pure, unadulterated nutritional evil. And my neighbor just loves to bless us with them about once a week. (Does she adore us or despise us? I'm not sure....)

So what does the dog have to do with donuts? I think you already know where I'm going with this. Fat-head ate the entire package while I was running an errand. All 12. Down her belly. In a matter of minutes. One donut should be enough to make a dog sick-- but my genius downed a dozen of those bad boys. Side effects? Oh yes. It started with farting. If she got up, she farted. If she lied down, she farted. If she stretched, she farted. Even LM stopped giggling after a while. (He usually has an endless comical appreciation of gas.) Then came the dry heaves. At least, I think they were all dry.... We've found no "evidence" to the contrary. (Oh, Lord, please spare me from such a discovery!) Of course, she spent a lot of time in her bed for a while as well. (Recovering, no doubt.) But you know what I wasn't expecting? The sugar high. I mean, I can't say for sure that's what it was-- but we all noticed it nonetheless. Carson was...(there's no other way to describe it) hyper. Bouncing off the wall crazy. It was incredibly annoying. But finally, today, she has settled down. (I hear her hacking every now and then, but otherwise she seems fine. At least she's stopped tearing through the house in pursuit of phantom prey.)

The sad thing is, I'll bet no lesson has been learned here. (Well, except the one I learned-- which is to keep temptation on a higher shelf). Carson would eat another dozen donuts in a heartbeat, I have no doubt. But I guess I should thank her, really. If she hadn't sacrificed herself for us, we might have been the ones to eat those donuts. And that is a very scary thought.

So thank you, Sonia. Your unspeakable act of love has not gone unnoticed. Truly you are a gift to us.