The other day I was holding a 10 pound carton of boiling chocolate milk in my car. I lifted it up as I was about to get out the car and noticed a smell. I then realized the carton had spontaneously combusted leaking through the sides of my seat, dripping down my jacket, and steaming through the air. I then remembered the saying, “there’s no use crying over spilled milk.” I then realized the 10 pound carton was my dog Max, and the chocolate milk was explosive diarrhea.
I made the rational decision to burn my clothes and explode my car like they do in mafia movies and push it into the ocean by Kits Beach while onlookers watched. However my friend Davinder suggested I get my car detailed instead with the Groupon he saw in his email. I weighed out my options, got a refund for the mafia hit-man I hired to burn my car, and will now be getting my car detailed.
After three days including a vet stay, an IV, injections, antibiotics, loss of appetites (for both of us), smells and sights I will never forget and constant care by Momma Bear, Max is doing better.