Freakout Mode: Critter sitting edition

I just returned to my home after a week of housesitting for my friend's dogs and cat. The other day, I composed a post which asked the question: "How far would you go to save your pet?"

Well, Kittens, I had a panic yesterday. Let me tell you all about it...

I had to bake for Coffee Hour at church today. I took two sticks of butter out to soften on the counter. I was in the den, which is adjacent to the kitchen, when I heard a thump on the floor, along with some lip-licking sounds that only a dog could make.

Well, can you guess what happened?

I ran into the kitchen and found the yellow lab, face inside the package of butter, licking her lips as I discover that she ate one of the sticks, wrapper and all.

Key words: wrapper and all.

Now I know how to take care of a dog, how to feed it, give it meds, walk it, let it relieve itself, etc. However, when it comes to canine emergencies, I am woefully inexperienced. I went online and I called two emergency vets to get their opinions. They assured me she would pass everything, but that she would have diarrhea.

Well, I took the dog out shortly afterwards, and sure enough, she did have the runs. I took her out again an hour later and she had a second episode.

I fed her dinner. She ate it all, albeit more slowly than usual.

I originally had plans to go dancing last night, but I abandoned them in order to keep an eye on the dog. I was so freaked out by this I posted this message on my Facebook status:

"Kitten is freaking out because one of the dogs she's housesitting for ate a stick of butter--wrapper and all--and hasn't passed the wrapper yet."

Within minutes, friends chimed in with their advice, links to websites, and consolation. Give it time, they said. It's paper, and it's only butter, the dog will pass everything.

The dog ended up sleeping verrry soundly till 11 PM, when I took her and her sibling out one last time before I went to bed.

I went up to bed, fell asleep during SNL, and was soon slumbering very deeply. The cat snuggled up to me, and life was good.

Then, at 1:30, I heard yelps and whining.

The yellow lab was at the foot of the stairs, wide awake and begging to go out.

In my sleepytime fog, I let both dogs out, and watched for ten minutes as the yellow lab hurriedly paced the lawn to find the perfect spot to poo. And poo she did--it was solidifying, but not by much. (Sorry if you're eating while reading this.)

So the dogs came in and I returned to bed--only to be awakened once again at 5:30 for breakfast. I fed the trio and returned to bed again, where I stayed till the alarm went off at 6:45. I hit the snooze until 7:30, then got myself up, let the dogs out again, and set off to finally bake that cake I was supposed to have baked last night.

As I drove up to church with my goodies, I kept freaking out. This is what happens when I am in Freakout Mode. I worry obsessively, and my thoughts keep spinning round and round and round. It really dampered my mood; with that and the fatigue I had from lack of sleep, I was pretty jolly indeed.

The dogs' owner called me during services. (Not to worry, I put my cell on vibrate). She had arrived back in Connecticut, but had to go visit someone, so she wouldn't be returning to the house right away. I called her on the way back to her house.

She asked if things were OK.

I told her about the butter incident.

She started laughing like hell.

I mean, she was hysterical.

"The dog will be fine," she said. "Similar things have happened before! Not to worry."

Well, I was reassured. However, before I left, while the dog did have another bowel movement, she still hadn't passed the damn wrapper.

All this agita over a stick of butter.

At least she didn't eat the cake.