On Babies, Puppies, & 21 Sparkly, Purple, 12mm Dice. . .

I was thinking again tonight, sort of involuntarily, about the similarities between dogs and babies. The whole condescending mommy blogger thing really has the wheels in my head turning. In general, I love how different they are. But, there are moments when their similarities are astonishingly disturbing, too. Take Chewbi, for example. Just like a baby, he literally throws tantrums, loudly, until I play with him. He also has nightmares. But I think the thing that makes him most childlike is the fact that, like a baby, he puts everything in his mouth and I'm constantly having to watch him to make sure he's not going to choke to death.

Like this. . .


This is all that remains of a set of dice. Those 15 purple dice are all that's left of what was once a cube of 36. The pink dice are there for reference. Shall I share with you a funny little story about what happened to them? A short tale to illustrate my point?

Okay.

Last year, when I was in California visiting my family and friends (the trip that started with the train ride from hell), Matt was left alone to take care of himself and our furbabies--*gasp* I said furbabies! This isn't terribly irregular, this is the third or fourth trip I've taken like it, so he's no stranger to this sort of thing. But this time it wasn't just Galileo and Anakin. It was also Chewbi. So when I got home and everything seemed fine, I was thankful. I was glad my little family had managed to avoid falling apart in my short absence.

Then, the following day, while tending to Chewbacca, I noticed something strange. That is, that what was at once point a sparkly purple die had run the length of Chewbi's digestive tract and come out the other end, irrecoverable. It was still a dice, mind you, but I was certainly not going to try to save it. When I went to investigate where said die had come from, I noticed that there was a plastic cube (like the one containing the pink dice set above) spilled over--the black cap chewed up--and I was only able to find those 15 you see in that picture above.

This means, to my horror, that Chewbacca had eaten 21 of those sparkly, 12mm dice (they're substantially smaller than a normal 16mm, oh, say, Yhatzee die, for example) while I was in California. He had eaten them. Put them in his little bitty mouth and swallowed them. I wasn't here to watch him and he'd eaten more than half a cube of dice. And when I asked Matt about it, he said, "I didn't notice. I must have been at work," and then he had a good laugh that some 15+ dice were likely still floating around inside Chewbi somewhere. Ultimately, I'm pretty sure those dice the little guy swallowed made their way to freedom. I watched him like a hawk to make sure he wouldn't get sick and the only reason we didn't take him to the vet is because those dice have smoothly rounded corners, so we figured it was no harm, no foul. . . except that I lost more than half a set of sparkly purple dice.

Now tell me, what would happen if a baby ate more than twenty 12mm dice? That would be a big deal, right? Pretty sure no one would be laughing. Though you'll have to trust me when I say that I only laughed from horror, to keep from crying, not from humor. But you know, even though a baby--and a dog, for that matter--really shouldn't be eating dice, that wouldn't stop either from trying and in the case of Chewbacca, succeeding. Naughty dog. . . and naughty babies, too, for that matter!

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