If you have kept up with BlissfulVida you know, Javy and I ventured into parenthood not too long ago when we adopted of our four-legged daughter-Molly Marie. Since then, life has been a beautiful mess. PeePee Pads, laughs, messes, delicious canine love and more have since been running themes in our days. Until Sunday.
My first Mothers’ Day began simply sensational. My little girl, with the help of her wonderful father, ran up to me dragging a little Pandora bag around her neck, gifting me with a precious dog house charm. The day followed with a wonderful BBQ hosted by yours truly. Cinco de Mayo Margaritas, shish-ko-bobs, burgers, hot dogs, and tons of yummy appetizers were served up and plenty of pool fun was enjoyed. Molly’s Grandma’s, our moms, had a blissful day, as did we. Molly swam; Molly ran; Molly ate; Molly had a ball.
By the end of the day, we were pooped-no pun intended. We arrived home around 8:00ish and Molly Marie, like her parents, was exhausted. However, being such a small pup, we decided to give her some Nutri-Cal (God’s gift to small puppies) to make sure she didn’t stroke out on us with a sugar low. Upon waking her, our little angel was seemingly unwilling to open her eyes. At first, we thought she was so sleepy she didn’t want to be bothered. It didn’t take long to realize something was truly wrong.
Molly could barely open her eyes and her little legs couldn’t hold her 3.5 lb weight. Her head bobbed and her body trembled. Recognizing we had a serious problem, Javy and I quickly dress and begin the mission getting her to an emergency clinic. Despite arriving within the appropriate hours of operation, the first clinic we drove to was closed. Our only option was a clinic 30 minutes away.
After taking three red lights and driving at an ungodly speed, we arrived at the clinic where Molly was immediately seen. Javy and I were put in a room and asked to patiently wait for a doctor. Our nerves were on edge: We were truly scared parents.
We expected a lecture on caring for an inordinately small dog. We expected stern faces for letting her swim in the pool. We expected many things; but what came, we never expected.
A sweet, hippy-like vet enters the room about an hour later, sans Molly and asked us to describe her day. I quickly began to spat out Molly’s Sunday adventure, taking full responsibility for what I thought was a sugar drop. Until the quaint doctor interrupts and says, “I am not required to report this to the authorities and I won’t; however…”
At this point, I am perplexed…I am confused…I am-SHOCKED.
…“Molly seems to be experiencing symptoms of a puppy who has been intoxicated by Marijuana.”
WHAT? WAS THIS LADY SERIOUSLY SAYING OUR BEAUTIFUL, SWEET CANINE WAS HIGH? There was no way! Literally- NO WAY.
While I don’t knock anyone who does or has tried Marijuana- let’s face it, you are probably much more Zen then me– neither Javy nor I have ever done it. So when the woman, who held our baby’s life in her hands, suspected we “perhaps baked brownies or had drug-paraphernalia around” our precious daughter, I went neurotic-crazy like only Nicki G. The Blissful Wife could.
I began to defend our case, which I suspect only made her more suspicious. Maybe it was something I said, probably it was something my calm-natured husband responded, but finally- the doctor began to believe us.
…but we still needed a diagnosis.
So, Dr. Accuse-a-Tor, Javy, and I began to brain storm. We replayed the day all over and finally it hit us- MOLLY MARIE GARCIA, WONDERFUL, INNOCENT MOLLY MARIE GARCIA, WAS DRUNK ON CINCO DE MAYO MARGARITAS!
Yes, you read right! Turns out the three spilled Margaritas made their way from to the floor to her stomach and our puppy was not high as a kite, rather drunk as a sailor.
Little Drunk-a-Lina spent the night in the hospital, nursing a hangover with IV’s flushing fluids through her petite body and the following morning, $450 later, we were able to bring her home.
Javy and I had never been more relieved and embarrassed at the same time.
I didn’t dream of sharing this story until I realized, this could happen to anyone. Hell, according to the Veterinarian, it has happens countless times.
So, the next time you sip on a margarita or for that matter, take a shot of tequila, promise me you will think of Molly Marie’s adventures and laugh.
Blissful Drinking Friends,
Nicki G. The Blissful Wife