Tuesday was a dramatic day. We got up early. I thought Daddy would shower and go to work, but Mommy showered first. That was a bad sign. When Daddy showered and goes to work Mommy, Pocket, and I get a blanket and pay Foley a dream visit. But there was no dream date, no blanket, and even worse no breakfast.
And no Pocket! I am used to Mommy and Daddy leaving but the only time they take Pocket alone is when she has to go to the vet. Was there something wrong with my sister? Why does no one tell me what is going on in this house? Everyone keeps the Griffon in the dark.
Two hours later they came back, smelling of pancakes and bacon, with groceries, and no Pocket. After they put away the groceries, they finally fed me, but after I few bites I stopped eating to look for Pocket. She wasn’t anywhere in the house! I finished, and Mommy offered me lap, but every few minutes I would get down and search for Pocket again.
I finally settled down when they got a phone call and upped and left me again. Twice in one day! That broke our agreement. They came back a short time later, and they had Pocket with them!
I was so happy to see her. I gave her a sniff. She smelled like strange humans, other dogs, and some medicinal substances. She was also wobbly. Then it came to me! She has spent the afternoon at a pub, and she was drunk!
I snapped at her. I had been worried, and she had gone off on a bender! She slowly turned and attempted to snap back. That is when I saw that she was missing almost a dozen teeth.
Obviously, she was flouting her radical opinions at the bar, got in a fight, and got her teeth knocked out. “I can’t believe you got into a bar fight!” I said.
“I bibn’t bet bin a bar bite ba bet book bout by booths!” Pocket claimed.
“Don’t be silly!” I said. “The vet doesn’t take out teeth The vet puts in teeth. That is what a vet does. She fixes things.”
Mommy told me to leave the little drunk alone because she was recovering. Recovering from a self-inflicted hangover in my opinion. But I always obey the moms.
The rest of the night Pocket was babied with tiny bits of food and water. She also got lots of snuggles and what could be, although I can’t prove it, opiates. Great, thanks to my parents coddling not only do we have an alcoholic in the family but a possible junkie too.
I will keep you informed of Pocket’s further actions. We might need an intervention.