Maggie Discovers She's Magic

A few days ago, I decided to pick up a bottle of wine on the way home from work. I called Husband to see what he was in the mood for.

“Something’s wrong with Maggie. You need to get home,” he says.

“What? Is she sick again?”

“I don’t know. Just come home.”

So I raced home and flew through the door—to be met by happy, bouncy, perfectly normal looking Maggie.

“What’s wrong with her? She seems fine,” I asked Husband.

“Just look in her crate.”

It took a few moments, but then I realized, I was staring at the tags and hardware from Maggie’s collar.

Let’s break this down.

At some point during the day, Maggie gets her tags caught on the crate. There’s probably a minute or two of panic and she eventually pulls her collar over her head. Then she stares at it for a minute and thinks: “Hooray! I made food!”

And then she eats the collar. The plushy, eco-friendly, hemp collar I had bought her about 18 mos. ago in a fit of yuppie weakness.

It took a few days, but eventually it came out. In big chunky pieces.

I’ll spare you a photo of that.