Tim left a bag of trash in the mud room overnight on Saturday, and Pip - who's got the cone on again and can't sleep with us - OF COURSE chewed the handle and ingested some of it.
It was maybe the maddest I've ever been at Tim. Up there with the most anxious I've been about a cat. But 36 hours afterwards, Pip's eating and drinking well and full of beans.
If I didn't have a major deadline Wednesday I'd throw a freaking party.