I would like to start this post out by acknowledging that chocolate is very bad for dogs. I do not give my dog chocolate. Nor do I condone any dog eating–or even licking–chocolate.
But, well, I have a Labrador. And when it comes to food, Labradors are exceptionally crafty. As I have mentioned before, ninjas could take lessons from Princess Adelaide Grace.
One year for Christmas, a friend was so very kind to send me a kilo of dark chocolate from Haigh’s Chocolates in Adelaide (hahaha, Adelaide. Not that I’m laughing at the city itself, just the irony of the chocolate coming from a place with the same name as the princess). My friend didn’t tell me what she sent in her magical package, which arrived one day in early December. It was filled with a Christmas card, a letter, and a few small wrapped gifts. The card just said “Happy Christmas!” and the accompanying letter told of a year filled with adventure and fun.
Nowhere was there any mention that I should keep the largest/heaviest of the wrapped gifts far, far away from the princess’s reach. It was all nicely wrapped and so I put it under the tree. For nearly two weeks, Adelaide (the dog, not the city) seemed uninterested in any of the packages from Adelaide (the city, not the dog). Since Adelaide (the dog, although perhaps also the city) cannot contain her excitement when she smells food, I presumed that nothing in the packages was edible. Therefore, I did not believe any packages from Adelaide (the city, not the dog) would be tempting to Adelaide (the dog, not the city).
HAHAHAHAHA. Wow! I was spectacularly wrong!
One day while I was leaving work, Ann sends the following text:
To which, I responded:
An amazing chocolatier in Australia.
The reply back with a picture:
would it have been wrapped in Christmas paper?
Of course, I was on the subway and since phone service was sketchy, I couldn’t call Ann. What I did manage to do was text my friend in Adelaide, who confirmed that the AWOL package was, in fact, a full kilo of dark chocolate, not just a small bar of chocolate. I relayed that information to Ann. The second I came above ground, I called and received the following diatribe:
YEP! YOUR FUCKING DOG ATE THE FUCKING CHOCOLATE. ALL OF IT. EVERY LAST MORSEL! GONE! IT’S ALL OVER HER FACE AND SHE’S JUST LYING ON YOUR BED BASKING IN THE GLORY OF EATING ALL THE FUCKING CHOCOLATE! AND NOW I DON’T KNOW WHAT TO DO! SHOULD I TAKE HER TO THE VET? SHE SEEMS FINE BUT SHE COULD DIE! I CAN’T BELIEVE SHE ATE ALL THE CHOCOLATE! I MEAN, YES I CAN, BUT WHY?!?!?! IT COULD KILL HER! DOES SHE KNOW THIS? OF COURSE SHE FUCKING DOES, BUT SHE OBVIOUSLY DOESN’T CARE BECAUSE SHE ATE ALL THE GODDAMN CHOCOLATE!
After several minutes of panicked back and forth about the antics of my newly minted Chocolate Lab, I hung up and immediately called the vet. After explaining Addy’s dalliance to the vet tech who answered the phone, I was put on a brief hold and the vet himself came on the line. After repeating the story to him, he asked a couple of questions about how Addy was doing. I replied no vomiting, no diarrhea, no sluggish behavior, and that according to my roommate, she is happy as a clam and proudly flaunting the remnants of her feast.
To which the vet responded:
well wouldn’t you be happy as a clam if you just ate a kilo of dark chocolate?!?
Thankfully the worst thing to come out of this was that a) I was deprived of some delectable chocolate (the real tragedy of this story!) and b) now the pupcicle thinks she is immune to the evil effects of chocolate to dogs and is constantly trying to sneak a taste when I’m not looking.