Cocktail hour

Cocktail hour

Wendy and I had our new Jack Russell puppies, Dodger and Penny, for about three weeks. At just ten weeks old and weighing only a few pounds, they were filling our lives with joy and mischief. That evening, I came home from work, grabbed a beer, and Wendy poured herself a glass of her favorite Chardonnay. I mentioned to Wendy that I needed to check something on my email, so I headed into the office, where I connected our desktop computer to the internet via our dial-up modem.
Meanwhile, Wendy went into our bedroom with her wine, lifted little Dodger onto the bed, and turned on the TV to watch the news. A few minutes later, something on my email caught my attention, and I called out to Wendy, “Hey, come here and see this!” Wendy placed her wine glass on the bedside table and hurried to my office. We both marveled at whatever had grabbed my attention and then decided to return to the bedroom to relax and enjoy our drinks.
When we walked into the bedroom, we were met with an alarming sight: Dodger, our tri-colored puppy, had his little head in the wine glass, which was now empty. He looked up at us, took a few wobbly steps, and promptly fell over. Wendy and I exchanged panicked looks, unsure of what to do. Our tiny puppy had just consumed nearly nine ounces of Chardonnay and was clearly intoxicated.
I suggested Wendy call Tom and Connie, the veterinarians from whom we’d gotten Dodger and Penny, to ask for advice. But Wendy hesitated. “No,” she said. “We can’t call them. After what happened to Lucky and the puppies eating the oil paints in our daughter’s room last week, they’ll think we’re unfit pet owners. They might take the puppies back!”
Instead, Wendy called the Colorado State University Vet Hospital in Fort Collins. The receptionist listened to our story and said she’d try to find someone to help. After five agonizing minutes, the receptionist returned to tell us that everyone was busy and advised us to call poison control. She provided the number, and I made the call while Wendy tended to Dodger, who appeared to have stopped breathing at one point. Wendy shook him gently, setting him upright on his little legs. He wobbled a bit but started breathing again and it was apparent that he was experiencing the spins.
When I reached poison control, they informed me that a consultation would cost $75 upfront. Frustrated, I declined and hung up. Desperate, I told Wendy to call Stacy, our large-animal vet who cared for our 25 horses on our 35-acre property. Wendy explained the situation to Stacy, who immediately suggested calling Tom and Connie. Wendy protested, recounting the oil paint incident and her fear that they’d demand the puppies back. Instead, she asked Stacy to call Tom and Connie on our behalf, framing it as a hypothetical situation. Reluctantly, Stacy agreed.
As we anxiously waited for Stacy’s callback, we kept a close eye on Dodger, ensuring he continued to breathe. Finally, the phone rang. Wendy snatched it up. Before Stacy could speak, she demanded, “What do we do?”
Stacy’s reply was unexpected: “Cheese.”
“Cheese?” Wendy repeated. “Do we feed him cheese? Does it help counteract the wine?”
Stacy burst into laughter. “No, you feed him cheese to go with the wine!”
Wendy was not amused. But then Stacy relayed Connie’s actual advice: “Just let him sleep it off. There’s not much else you can do now.”
The rest of the night, Wendy and I took turns checking on Dodger to ensure he was okay. By morning, he was still sleeping, likely nursing a major hangover. Penny, bored without her playmate, began nipping at Dodger to initiate their usual roughhousing. Wendy scooped him up, letting him rest a little longer. She leaned over, sniffed his breath, and turned to me with a smirk. “Tim, you should smell his breath.”
“No thanks,” I replied, laughing.
Thankfully, Dodger made a full recovery, though he likely regretted his newfound taste for Chardonnay. From then on, we kept our drinks far out of reach of our curious pups.
For future reference, we learned an important tip: when a dog eats or drinks something they shouldn’t, keep hydrogen peroxide and a syringe on hand. Administering a small amount can induce vomiting to help them expel harmful substances. Thankfully, Dodger didn’t suffer any lasting effects, but we were determined to be better prepared for the next inevitable mischief from our little adventurers.