Saturday, Ty and I got back from running errands very eager to make sandwiches out of some challah he bought from our favorite bakery while on his morning walk with Bugsy. I asked where the bread was -- we keep it on the counter but he sometimes freezes it -- and he insisted it was there. That's when we saw the empty bread bag on the living room floor. At first, it was just annoying that he cost us $4 and we didn't get to eat any of the delicious bread, and the bakery was closed by then.
Over the next 24 hours, we had other reasons to be concerned. Bugsy began to show signs of intestinal distress, including gas so horrendous it could be used to make biological weapons. He looked bloated and was clearly uncomfortable, breathing more deeply and panting more often than normal. So, we made an appointment at the one vet in town open 7 days a week. He got an x-ray to make sure his intestine wasn't completely blocked and $150 later, we brought him home with some pain pills to just wait for it all to come out. By the time we woke up today (Monday), he seemed back to his old self ... except for one thing. My first thought when I saw him this morning was, "why is he orange?"
Ty left for work before I woke up, but he wrote a note explaining the dog's new fur color. An empty container of paprika and a white leather chair tinted the same orange as the dog's fur.
I called the vet and was told to just wait for it all to pass.
The closing line of Ty's note?
"We may need to rethink how we organize the kitchen."