Dear neighbors, I deeply apologize for the fact that the image of me walking around the backyard in a tank top, bright green panties, and Jeremiah's old grey converse searching for granules in piles of dog barf is forever burned in your retinas.

Believe me, everyone. If time had permitted me to put on pants, I would have.

The title for this one practically wrote itself. Alternates I was considering:

• What doesn't kill you only makes you stronger...one dog's true story.
• I feel like a million bucks...or at least $39.99 and the cost of some hydrogen peroxide.
• Do you know the number for the poison control line for pets? No? Because I do.

Here's the story.

Yesterday was a self-proclaimed "Day of Fun". More details on that later. Or never. Who knows. Anyway, to have the day of fun,  Jeremiah got up around 4:30, I think. I slept in until 5:55. This has little to do with the story, other than I am appalled that I consider 5:55 sleeping in late. That just makes me sad.

At one point (the point where I was dressed only half way) I could hear scraping noises outside. I asked Jeremiah to check on the dogs. It was then that he discovered that Spike had gotten into the ant poisoning that we put outside. It was in a container, covered and surrounded by bricks, but he got in.

And then he ate the poison.

I have to say one thing. If there is ever an emergency, I will need to duplicate myself. Jeremiah was little help (sorry Jeremiah, but it's the truth), except when he whipped out his credit card. He made the phone calls, but basic information was relayed from me to him to the person on the phone. Age of the dogs? No clue. Weight? No clue.  EPA number on the side of the poison? Couldn't find it.

So Spike eats the poison. Atticus is flitting around the backyard, and I am actually concerned that he might have gotten some.

The first person (actually the second person. Our vet was closed, so we called the emergency number they listed.) suggested that both dogs be given a tablespoon of hydrogen peroxide, which is safe for the dogs and would make them barf. I pulled out the dropper/measuring thing that I use with the dogs (pet owners - you should ALWAYS have one of these on hands. You never know when you will need it.) and fed Atters a bit less then a tablespoon. Spike willingly drank about half of his and then I had to squirt the rest in with the dropper.

Atticus went outside. Promptly sat down, grinned at me, and horked up a tiny pile of dog food. I used my foot to smoosh through it. No poison. Thank god.

Spike didn't barf. The dog has an iron stomach. He's also ingested transmission fluid, primer, and a bunch of other random things. He walked around gaily, wagging his tail, smelling things.

Jeremiah calls a third person, recommended by the previous caller, which will cost $39.99, but will tell us if the ingredients are toxic. Jeremiah calls, I provide him with his information (time to learn your new phone number, Jeremiah) and the EPA number listed on the side of the container and we discover that it should not be a problem. Spike's stomach will be upset and he shouldn't have any water or food for awhile, but he will be fine.

After Jeremiah got off the phone he sat patiently and reassured me that I would not end up on a list of people who were banned from buying/rescuing shelter animals. I still do not believe him. I probably will not ever be able to adopt any animal again. I probably am not even allowed to volunteer (Actually, Jeremiah and several friends have forbade me from volunteering with animals as they fear that I will bring them all home.)

Then - Spike barfed.

He barfed up a pile of ant poison pellets.

And now he's fine.

"Cross ant poison off my bucket list!"