My Brush With Death

Okay, so maybe that title is a bit over the top. Mom thinks it is. She wanted me to call this post “How to Get Mom and Dad to Stay Home,” but that just doesn’t do it for me, ya know? Clearly, someone needs to teach her a thing or two about blogging.

So here are the harrowing details of My Brush With Death:

Last night, as Mom and Dad were getting ready to leave us poor suffering hounds alone so that they could go out to dinner, I saw this strange thing on the kitchen floor. Aware that anything on the kitchen floor is potentially edible, (heck, anything on any floor is potentially edible) I just had to check it out. Yes, I’d already had my dinner, but I’ve never been opposed to scrounging some dessert.

So I walked up to this strange thing on the kitchen floor, gave it a curious sniff, and–

OUCH! It zapped me!

I backpedaled out of the kitchen so fast that my feet were sliding on the tile. Mom says I looked like a cartoon character running in place. Ha-ha, Mom. My schnozzle had been ZAPPED! And it HURT!

Mom came into the kitchen to see what was going on, and quickly went into action. She told Dad to run upstairs and get some Benadryl. She opened a cupboard and pulled out a red plastic cup with some writing on the side. Inside the cup was a piece of cardboard. She used the cup and the cardboard to chase down and scoop up the nasty zapping thing on the kitchen floor, and then set the cup on the counter.

By then, Dad had brought the Benadryl from upstairs and I was lying on the couch trying to lick and rub away the ouchie from the nasty zapping creature.

Mom shoved a couple of Benadryl down my throat (yuck!) and then checked my schnozzle and inside my mouth for any sign of the zap-creature’s attack. I don’t think she found anything, but it sure hurt. It was like a spicy bee, only WAY more intense.

Mom said that she and Dad would be staying home to make sure I didn’t have any sort of reaction. I really wasn’t sure what she meant by a “reaction,” but I was happy they were staying home.

While Mom was keeping an eye on me, Dad got the camera and the cup with the nasty zapping thing in it, and took them outside so he could take some pictures. Here they are:

The nasty zapping thing safely ensconced in the cup.

Turns out the cup says: "Scorpions ONLY!"

(Yes, that’s right, Mom and Dad have a dedicated scorpion-catching cup. Ah, life in the Southwest desert…)

After taking the picture, Dad let the nasty thing go in the front yard. I sure hope it doesn’t come back inside.

As for the “reaction” Mom was worried about, here are some pictures of BJ from a couple of months ago when she made the mistake of checking out a nasty zapping creature:

The creature zapped the left side of BJ's face - as if you couldn't tell.

Poor puffy BJ face.

When BJ had her zapping-creature encounter, she got Benadryl and she got rushed to the emergency vet. I guess I’m glad I didn’t get all puffy and have to go to the vet, although I really do like to go bye-bye in the car and meet new people.

But even BJ didn’t react as badly as another dog Mom and Dad had before I came to live here. Below is a picture of Rahja after she got “scorpioned.” (Yes, she really was a Greyhound, despite the huge muzzle; that’s all swelling from the zapping.)

Puffy-faced Rahja after getting "scorpioned."

Both Rahja and BJ survived their “puffiness” with no permanent damage – and no lingering puffiness. I wonder if they learned to stay away from scorpions. I think I have.

Me after the zapping, glassy-eyed with the effects of the Benadryl.

Today, I’m fully recovered from the zap (and from the Benadryl). I think I’ll stick to bees for my spicy Southwestern treats.

–Sergei