P. Cakes

There’s been a lot of bitching and whining talk about how I get my mummy up early in the morning, and I’m here to set the record straight. When I was a puppy, I would stand in front of the door when mummy would try to go to work. And she would sigh and say:

If mummy doesn’t go to work, there is no kibble and portiacakes goes hungry.
If mummy doesn’t go to work, there is no heat and portiacakes goes cold.
We don’t want portiacakes to go hungry or cold, do we?

Hell no! we don‘t want Portiacakes going hungry or cold!

Lately, my mummy is very tired and I’m worried she will not wake up in time for work. So I do my best to get her up and at ’em. The fact that she feeds me kibble has NOTHING to do with it!

Portia. She just can’t help herself. I always tell her she’s lucky she’s so good looking because she’s bad. Super bad. Bad squared.
Yesterday she counter surfed and got grapes and whole wheat wraps. Jenge and I thought nothing of it, but then this morning, here’s what happened.

[scene- Gita’s bedroom. It’s dark. Early morning. Before 6. Lola is already harumphing and sighing in her crate. Gita rolls over]
Gita: Quiet. It’s bedtime.
[this does not deter the puppy who harumphs and baby-growls]
Gita: Lola! Quiet!
[down the hall, there is a thump. A bump. Mummy Jennifer has awoken. Gita listens. Perhaps she will come get Lola and Gita can pretend to still be asleep. Then, a door flies open! The hall light flares to life!]
Jenge: That’s it! Portia! No more sleeping in my room! EVER!
[Dogs come flying out of Jenge’s room. Jenge comes and gets Lola, Gita sits up]
Gita: what happened?
Jenge: She puked. and not just a little, a lot. Right on my bedskirt.
Gita [thinking that she should get up]: Oh…….
[Jenge storms downstairs, tosses the girls out to potty, dispenses food. Gita comes downstairs. Portia is not eating! Jenge and Gita stare at her]
J: I don’t feel bad for her. I don’t. She did it to herself. Yeah, I bet you feel sick Portia.
[Portia picks at her food and forces it down. She drinks two bowls of water until Gita steps in]
G: Too much water, Portia.
[Portia looks up, guiltily]

[Flash forward to early morning, Gita and Jenge on phone]
J: so it turns out, grapes are toxic to dogs.
G: oh, great.
J: I called the vet, and I’m gonna go home at lunch and check in on her.
G: Call me if she is sick, I can come home from work.
J: Kay.

[afterschool, on the phone]
J: so the vet said she’d probably be fine, but the house smells funny. I can take her in. They have an opening at 6.
G: Oh, Portia.
J: I guess that grapes can cause renal failure in dogs. how much would you say we had?
G: I dunno. 1, maybe 2 pounds?
J: 2 pounds is the toxic amount for portia’s weight class.
G: Maybe I should come home.
J: Go to bootcamp, I’ll take her to the vet and let you know.

[after bootcamp, on the phone]
J: So she’s dehydrated, and they wanted to admit her but I said no. We’re waiting for blood work.
G: How’s she look?
J: I mean, she looks okay, but she’s depressed.
G: She’s been depressed for a while.
J: Yeah, I’ll call you back.

[later, Jenge comes home with Portia]
J: so they watned to keep her over night, but that’s 500 bux a night. I said, listen, you don’t know how much this dog has eaten. You don’t know what we’ve pulled out of poop and 99 times out of 100, she’s fine. We’ve had moles checked for cancer on her face, we’ve had an entire work up done on her bladder. We’ve gone for tests, etc. And she’s always fine. I’ll take her home.
G: I agree, I’m pretty sure she’ll be okay.
J: Her kidneys looked good, although her liver had some high numbers. [shrug] we’ll see.
[they both eye Portia who clearly does not want to talk about her trip to the vet
J: I mean, she was so nervous at the vet, I couldn’t leave her there.
G: No, you did the right thing.
[Portia jumps up on counter. Jenge and Gita stare at each other incredulously]
J and G: She’s fine!