Yesterday my dogs ate three large bags of brown rice. I can't blame them. My theory is that just the same way it's a prisoner's job to try to escape, it's the dogs' job to hunt for food.
The first clue was that when I got home, my kitchen floor was like that scene in Raiders of the Lost Ark....crunchy. The second clue was the open cabinet door. The third clue was the as yet uneaten (but gutted) remaining bag of rice on the living room carpet.
I didn't know what to expect. Would the rice really expand in their stomachs and kill them? Nothing else has, yet. Would they bloat and die?
The four of them seemed pretty happy....and hungry. I fed them dinner. They ate like normal. It's a speed sport, at our house.
This morning they seemed fine. No vomiting, no emergency trips to the yard.
This afternoon they were fine when I got home, but were a little desperate to get outside. They all pooped. A lot. Rice. Lots and lots of rice. Then they ate dinner like their normal fiendish selves.
This is why Katie K9 and I constantly tell people to create strong stomachs in their dogs. For just this occasion and purpose. I can't express how worthwhile it is to have built intestinal fortitude into my dogs. The value is in the peace of mind.
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