The dog doesn’t like to take his Prozac. In fact, he can be really ornery about it. And when he and I get into a power struggle, it gets ugly. Like the other day. I gave him his Simba-be-cool pill, and he had the nerve to spit it back out, so I called him an asshole, and wrastled him to the ground like Steve Irwin. I straddled him, pried open his jaws, and shoved the pill down his throat while he gnawed up my fingers. Then I called him some more names that were so bad I can’t print them, and held his mouth closed while he tried to shake, rattle and roll free. HA! Take that! Then I did some trash talking like “Bring it, Dog! I’m not taking any sh!t from you! Uhh Huhhh, that’s right, Dog…… Go Helen, it’s your birthday!!” Then I did a victory dance right there in the dog kennel, said “That’s right, Biotch!” and went back inside.

Don’t judge me. If you had put up with this damn dog for the last 14 years, you’d be like this too.

Annnnywayyyyyyyy. We usually buy the cheapest, softest, white bread in the grocery store to put the pills in and mush it up and he usually takes his medicine fairly well. We refer to the white, Wonder type breads as “dog bread.” In fact, my kids know not to eat the dog bread because it has zero nutritional value. Last summer when we were staying with my parents, son #2 comes in my room, early in the morning, wakes me up and whispers in horror ”Mommy! Wake up! Grammy is trying to feed me dog bread!“

So yesterday I ran out of dog bread. And the human bread was molded. I was going to have to be creative, because I was NOT wrestling the dog again for the third time this week. Besides, I’m pretty sure the neighbors hear me swearing up a storm in the dog kennel. I decided I would somehow use a concoction of milk bones and peanut butter to make the pills stick. I got a dog bone, spread it with peanut butter, and humming to myself, stuck the Prozac into the peanut butter. I added two Benedryl because a sedated Simba is a good Simba. Then I stuck another bone on top. It was a neat little peanut butter and crazy sandwich. I think he found the sandwich suspicious, because I was all cheery about giving it to him. I saw him rolling the pills around in his mouth, but they were stuck to the peanut butter and he wasn’t willing to spit that out. HA! Take that, Dog!

I think I’ll start a business. Catering to male, yellow labradors. We’ll call the sandwich Peanut Butter Sedation. And all will be right with the world………..