Think.
Nacho staggered into the room, collapsing several times on his way to his bed. My humans rushed to help him, staring in curious horror. Was our ancient pup seriously ill, or had he eaten something again? Think . Psssst...Nacho...here's the plan... So far, 30 pound Nacho had eaten: a bag of Aleve (canine kidney killer) the evening of a company party at a brand new job, a bloodhound's anti-inflammatory (way too much for his tiny liver), and enough clean kitty litter to cause him to wretch and lurch and whine miserably until they once again made him throw up his treasure. Think. Hey Moksha! Hide your meds the next time you visit. Think . Nacho got up and timbered again. Think . A small smile started playing on my human's face. "He looks like a pup who overdosed on flea medication... but how?" They rummaged through the packaging, checking the safety range. "Even if he ate Bacchus' too, this says it won't kill him or cause any permanen