I Took a Basting

Sailor here.

Boy, is Christmas time ever fun! Turkey drops on the floor, and it’s MINE. Human cookies are left on the rug, and they’re MINE! Turkey sandwich crusts are hidden upstairs, and they’re MINE!

And last night, I learned about Chocolate Cake. It was left on the floor upstairs. It wasn’t such a large piece, only the size of a paw-and-a-half, but it was thick. And it was MINE. I gave it a good smell and wolfed it down. Yummy.

Mom’s daughter, Katy, discovered me with the empty plate. I might have gotten away Scotch collie free, except I couldn’t resist that last crumb. Katy caught me mid-lick. She told Mom and said she was really worried because she knows that dogs can’t have chocolate.

Not have chocolate? It was yummy, it was dark, it smelled divine. And it was full of fat. I love fat. Fat makes my coat shiny and my feet full of energy. Chocolate is about as good as it gets. Except, maybe, for turkey and steak and chicken and smelly cheese and …well, you get the picture. But chocolate is right up there.

Mom said she didn’t think the chocolate was a big worry. She just wrote an article about chocolate poisoning, and knew the math. She was too tired to do the math, but she knew the math.

So Mom and I went to bed.

A short sleep later, Katy knocked on the door. I was in the throes of chocolate bliss and didn’t even get up to announce her.

“Mom, I’ve been on the internet and I’m really worried about that cake,” she said. “I think we need to…” The rest of this sentence was lost on me due to a gigantic burp.

“Okay,” Mom sighed, heaving herself out of bed and calling me to her. “If nothing else, this will be a learning experience. Come on, Sailor, to the kitchen.”

The kitchen? In the middle of the night? Do wonders ever cease? I scampered downstairs and trotted into the kitchen just as Mom was taking a turkey baster from the drawer. This baster had letters on it, which Mom assured her daughter spelled Dog.

My very own turkey baster? How terrific! I just knew that Mom was going to give me turkey pan drippings and fat and oil and turkey bits. I sat for my treat.

Mom slurped something up into the baster and sat down next to me. Katy got towels and sat next to Mom. I sat and opened my mouth.

Yuck! Ack! This was NOT turkey pan drippings! It foamed. I gagged. I swallowed, and it foamed again. I was tricked!

I sat there unhappily, burping into Mom’s face. I gagged again. Then I felt better.

“He’s looking a bit too perky,” Mom said after some time. And she slurped up another bit of Foaming Ook and squirted it down my throat.

I gagged again. Mom looked at me. I looked at her. Katy looked at both of us.

And then I started horking.

“Oh, good,” Mom said.

Good? This was NOT good! It was slimy and messy and smelled strongly like Chocolate Cake. Mom kept me from licking it from the towel. I horked again.

“Wow, look at all that!” Mom said. “Not even digested.”

“Let me out!” I screamed silently and ran to the kitchen door. I hate horking with an audience.

Mom opened the door and ran after me, keeping me from licking up Chocolate Seconds from the grass and the patio. I wasn’t having fun. My tummy was upset and my ruff was a bit foamy and I was not a happy camper.

After the storm, Mom cleaned up my ruff and took me back upstairs and climbed into bed. I dug up my dog bed, making a comfortable nest, and collapsed. Ugh. What a disappointing night I was duped. I was basted. I was…tired.

But I got even. At almost-light, after dry heaving several times during the night, I horked up a long line of bile slime, carefully spreading it from my bed to the bathroom door. Mom leaped up at first hork and grabbed the roll of paper towels she keeps near her bedside just for these instances.

“Empty stomach, eh Sailor?” she asked, mopping up. She gave me a dry biscuit and patted my side. “No more chocolate for you, okay?”

No, NOT okay. I started the evening with a feast, was tricked into thinking I was getting turkey pan drippings, had to give back the chocolate, horked up bile-slime, and all I got was a dry cookie!

I WAS ROBBED!