OMG. Please. Not the garbage.

Ok, so Bodhi has been doing better. He seems to be eating and digesting everything pretty normally (although his output is not quite what it used to be – lucky for you I get to watch that). He acts a bit friskier, more like his pre-heat-stroke self. He follows me eagerly about the house each time I get ready for a run, and heads towards the car any time it isn’t in the garage in anticipation of a ride. He continues to mediate my spending habits as I try to pay down the ridiculous vet bills. Since the incident I have tried to buy very few things.

Meanwhile, today, after I left for work and my rumi was getting herself ready to go to work, Bodhi helped himself to the kitchen garbage. No, seriously. She facebooked me before she left to let me know, but I was stuck working too. I was hoping, hoping he wouldn’t be sick before I could get home. Meanwhile, I was frantically searching my memory: Did I take the trash out after I discovered the freezer burnt fish?

I am so not kidding. The other day I was scrounging around in the freezer and I found a partially unwrapped, raw hunk of tuna. I was considering eating the fish, to tell the truth, mostly because of recent blood tests showing I am still pretty low on silly things like hemoglobin and vitamin D.

Now, I am mostly a vegetarian. No, really, I am. I used to eat fish, but mostly only when it was kind of a forced choice, eating with other people, that kind of thing. Or with my mother. She is convinced I need meat of some kind – she always buys me salmon. And I was eating sushi a couple of times a year too, until recently. But at home, I mostly never even buy fish. I had some salmon in my big freezer from when the ex still lived here, but that’s been gone a long time. And anyway, that is all in these vacuum packed things…this tuna was just wrapped in paper.

Where did the tuna come from, you are asking yourself? It’s a long story.

Last year, my practicum site was a forced choice kind of place. The people I worked with cooked lunches and ate together in the kitchen most days, and I was frequently asked to join them. I tried, I really did, to say no to fish and meat, but they were kind of old school and seemed to think I was just being snooty or something, so, I admit it, from time to time I ate the fish they cooked.

Sometime around my last week there, one of the women gave me some frozen fish in a bag, saying that she knew they wouldn’t eat them – it was kind of like a gift. I decided just to take them and say thank you. I put them in the freezer and promptly forgot about them.

So I found it on a day when the rumi wasn’t here and thought I might try to eat it. Except that it was freezer burnt. So I wrapped it back up in it’s paper and threw it away. Now, days later, the dog has eaten the trash and I cannot remember if I took the trash out since then!

I came home after work and thankfully, Bodhi was not apparently sick. I carefully checked the contents of the shredded garbage bag and decided that I had, in fact, taken the trash out since I put in the tuna. Whew.

After the rumi got home from work we discussed the whole fiasco and what we thought had been in the trash (I was patting myself on the back for the fact that our garbage is really pretty clean – we recycle everything possible and compost most of the rest). We were both glad that so far he hasn’t shown any signs of being sick.

The rumi went into the kitchen and then asked me, “Did you put my waffles away?”

Uh, no. No I hadn’t. Yes, the dog also ate a plate of gluten free waffles. Sheesh.

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