I always get depressed after the Memorial Day weekend.
Doesn’t anyone else see it’s the beginning of the end?
It seems so simple to me. The day before Memorial Day is glorious because we’re heading for the beginning of summer.
It follows that the day after Memorial Day is the beginning of the countdown to the end of summer.
I could swear that yesterday, driving home from East Hampton, it seemed to be getting darker earlier.
I’m also depressed from lack of sleep.
On Saturday night my wife, the Beautiful Judy Licht, and I came home late from a party.
Judy, the permanent designated passenger, had polished off two margaritas at the party. Judy is a light drinker and usually cannot handle even a glass of white wine, so needless to say she was NON COMPOS MENTIS (not of sound mind, memory, or understanding).
As I prepared for bed I heard this crunching sound. I looked down and there was my little puppy Shlomo, munching on something.
After a struggle worthy of World Wrestling Entertainment I managed to pull what he was chewing out of his mouth. To my horror it was a plastic prescription bottle. Clearly Shlomo had eaten the contents.
Was it a doggy suicide attempt? Quickly I looked around for a letter with a paw print on it. There was none. Shlomo, who I’m training to be a pickpocket, had lifted the pills deep from a bag that belonged to me.
“Judy!” I screamed. “Shlomo has poisoned himself!”
“That’s nice,” was her sleepy answer.
So, after much screaming and yelling on my part, I got Judy to give me the phone number of our veterinarian, Cindy Bressler.
Let me say this about Cindy. The next time the Pope wants to make a new saint, Cindy gets my vote. If you own a pet you love, you should give Cindy a call.
I called her at 1:30 a.m. and she was ready to come to my house in the middle of the night to make a house call.
Naturally, I was hysterical. Yes, Shlomo had eaten the contents of the pill bottle, but he also ate the part of the plastic that had the name of the contents. The prescription number was there, but little else.
Shlomo was happy as can be and seemed no worse for the experience.
“Check him every hour to see if he is sleeping and make sure he is moving,” was Cindy’s advice. “Call me in an hour and let me know how he’s doing.”
So after I watched two old episodes of Monk I got up and checked Shlomo, who looked at me each time I woke him up as though I was crazy. Then I reported to Cindy. And so it went. I watched the following old TV shows: NCIS, Criminal Minds, Monk and more Monk. Watch a show, check the dog. Watch a show, check the dog. In the morning I was exhausted and Judy and Shlomo were running around in great shape.
It turns out the medicine Shlomo ate was at least seven-to-10 Clarinex pills. Clarinex is an antihistamine, and given the size of Shlomo’s cute little puppy body, Shlomo is not expected to sneeze again until the year 2016.
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