I Ate A Tin Can by Nellie Brill

The night began like any Monday night. On weeknights, my brother Rocky and I are alone in the main house until mom stops talking to her screen, usually around 8.

My brother Rocky is also a Labrador, but not the kind of Labrador you hear about who does cool stuff like get so excited about the prospect of fallen food, you leap out the back of an SUV as a puppy, permanently injuring your right stifle because your passion for that rogue crumb, that open cabinet overtakes you.

Rocky is quiet, stays out of trouble, and if you throw something, he stares at it but doesn’t chase it. This is also known as an English Labrador. We are total opposites, and compliment each other in every possible way. 

Now that you understand the dynamics between me and my older brother, let me tell you what I did on Monday night as Rocky watched in astonishment.

To summarize the evening, as four feet of snow accumulated, I broke into a cabinet, found a can of prescription food from the last time I was hospitalized for an upset stomach, and then ate the can. Not the food in the can.  I mean, i ate it all.

When Mom came over, there was some paper from the Royal Canin label i forgot to hide. Mom realized what it was, then spent the next two hours turning the house upside down hoping she would find the can before she finally called the hospital and told them there was no can in sight and at this point, two feet of snow. Am I great or what? A tin can of my prescription food. Like, the actual can. Tiny pieces of metal are still in my stomach. This one’s on you, Trupanion. How was I supposed to know the can wasn’t part of the food? What kind of deceptive bullshit is–oh, and so it gets even better. We decided to hold off on scoping to see if I could eliminate the metal the natural way if that makes sense and i did.

Still managed to send Trupanion’s stock into a tailspin. Sorry. 

aside from the element of snow, this was fun