Someone forgot to tell our dog that he’s not supposed to eat chocolate. Yesterday I made my chocolate banana bread with chocolate chips and a bunch of dark chocolate baking powder. Since I can’t turn on the oven (not wanting another arm hair removal episode) I pushed the two pans to the back of the stove until Josh came home and went off to hang out with the two year old.
Thirty minutes later the dog plopped down next to us upstairs making some odd wheezing noises in his throat. Since strange noises aren’t that unusual for him, I didn’t think anything about it until later when I saw that the dumb dog had put his front paws up on the stove, stretched out his neck, and chowed down on my chocolate batter, including part of the parchment paper that I used to line the pans (I’m assuming the wheezing was him trying to clear the paper bits out of his throat). He ate one entire loaf and half of another. That’s a lot of chocolate for a dog.
Since he’s still on the “survival of the fittest” health insurance plan I didn’t bother to call the vet to ask about stomach pumping or other medical treatment that he may or may not need. Instead I fed him some peroxide (which didn’t make him throw up) so I figure he must have a cast iron stomach.
