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When Dough Hits the Fan: Stan Doggo Lee’s Bread-tastic Adventure

Today, I’ve got a tale to spin that’s equal parts hilarious, cringe-worthy, and a cautionary reminder that even dog trainers aren’t immune to the occasional canine-induced chaos. So, grab a snack (preferably not one made of dough), get comfy, and let me regale you with the story of Stan Doggo Lee and his bread-tastic misadventure.

Now, for those of you who haven’t had the pleasure of meeting my chunky monkey, allow me to introduce you to the star of our show: Stan Doggo Lee. Part doggo, part vacuum cleaner, and 100% trouble magnet, Stan is the kind of dog who can turn a quiet Friday afternoon into a full-blown three-ring circus in a matter of seconds.

But hey, that’s just part of his charm, right? (That’s what I keep telling myself, anyway.)

So, a couple of weeks ago I was diagnosed with Meniere’s Disease. In the scheme of things, nothing horrific, a few lifestyle changes and some medication to keep the dizzy under control. One of the lifestyle changes means massively reducing salt in my diet i.e. if I want bread then I have to make a salt free version for myself or pay $8 a loaf (ouch). I was in the kitchen, making a salt free loaf of bread and some bread rolls to pop in the freezer, while Stan was sitting on his mat looking sweet and innocent.

As I lifted the loaf pan into the oven and then turned to get the tray of rolls off the kitchen bench Stan launched and managed to snarfle 2 bread roll’s worth of rising dough. I quickly threw the tray into the oven so he couldn’t grab any more and then reached down Stan’s throat to try and retrieve as much as I could before he swallowed but it was too late – Stan had already inhaled the dough, with not so much as a skerrick of quilt.

In that moment, as I watched Stan’s look of satisfaction, I couldn’t help but think, “Oh, dude, you have no idea what you’ve just gotten yourself into.” What does bread dough do? It increases in size. What will it do in Stan’s nice warm tummy. Uh Oh, we’re in trouble. Because here’s the thing: bread dough and doggy tummies don’t exactly mix. In fact, it’s a combination that can lead to all sorts of unpleasant (and potentially life-threatening) consequences, like bloating, obstructions, and even alcohol poisoning (yeah, I did not know that. According to the interweb – alcohol poisoning in a dog. Who knew?).

So, with visions in my head of Stan ballooning up and floating away like the mean aunt in Harry Potter, I did what any responsible dog owner would do…..I called our vet and informed them that we’d be making an emergency visit, post-haste. Meanwhile, Stan Lee is completely unphased and wondering what all the fuss was about.

And that’s when the real fun began.

You see, as much as I love my vets and vet nurses, there’s one thing about myself that I’ve hidden from them: I’m what you might call a “sympathy spewer.” I’ve managed to raise all my kids to adulthood without having to clean up vomit (BIG shout out to my husband).

So, when the vet informed me that the only course of action was to give Stan a medication that would induce vomiting and (hopefully) expel the offending dough from his system, let’s just say I wasn’t exactly doing cartwheels. I handed over the leash, explained that going with Stan wasn’t an option and why, and fled the building to await the call saying he was OK to be picked up. Not feeling like a very caring dog guardian by this stage.

When the vet nurse called me to let me know Stan could go home he was laughing and saying that Stan wasn’t a very delicate vomiter. Apparently, it was ugly. Let me say, nothing about Stan Doggo Lee is delicate! I have a mental image of doggy version of The Exorcist.

The medication that Stan had was a morphine derivative, so when I collected him he was still slightly off his face. I asked for “Middle” and he did it backwards. I asked him to sit so I could pay the bill and he bowed instead. Clearly, those neurons weren’t quite firing properly. I got a good laugh at Stan’s expense and took my doughy delinquent home to snuggle up and recover.

Things like this are just par for the course when you live with a dog like Stan Lee. He has this uncanny ability to turn even the most mundane of situations into a full-blown comedic spectacle – and trust me, it’s both a blessing and a curse.

But you know what? That’s okay. Because it’s moments like these – the ones that leave us doubled over in equal parts laughter and exasperation – that remind us why we love these goofy, four-legged kids so darn much in the first place.

And trust me, after an experience like this, you can bet your bottom dollar that I’ve upped my “Management is Training” game tenfold. Bread dough? Safely rising on the highest shelf in the kitchen. Anything else remotely edible? Put away safely in the fridge or a cupboard Stan can’t open.

Of course, this whole bread-tastic fiasco did serve as a stark reminder that even pet professionals aren’t immune to the occasional canine-induced chaos. We’re all just mere mortals, doing our best to navigate the unpredictable world of our Furkids.

But at the end of the day, it’s all worth it – because for every bread dough mishap, there are a thousand little moments of pure joy, unconditional love, and slobbery kisses that make being a dog guardian (and trainer) the greatest job in the world.

And you know what? As exasperating as these little “incidents” can be in the moment, they’re also the moments that make up the rich tapestry of memories that come with being a dog guardian. The moments that make you shake your head in disbelief, the moments that make you question your sanity, and the moments that make you laugh until your sides hurt – those are the ones that really stick with you, long after the initial chaos has subsided. Yep, life with Stan Lee is never dull, that’s for sure.

Because here’s the thing: as much as we’d all love to believe that our dogs are perfect little angels who would never dream of causing any mischief, the reality is that they’re still dogs – dogs with natural instincts and curiosities that sometimes lead them down some not-so-ideal paths (like, you know, inhaling an entire batch of rising bread dough). If you wanted a perfectly behaved robot, then get a robot.

And as our dog’s human companions, it’s our job to set them up for success by providing the structure, guidance, and management tools they need to stay safe and out of trouble (or at least, as much trouble as possible).

So, to all my fellow dog guardians out there, I say this: embrace the chaos. Revel in the absurdity. And above all, never lose sight of the pure, unconditional love that lies at the heart of it all.

Because sure, Stan may have given me a few more grey hairs (okay, maybe more than a few) with his bread-dough-devouring antics. But he’s also given me a plenty of hilarious memories, belly laughs, and reminders that even the most seasoned of dog trainers are simply human – flawed, imperfect, and hopelessly devoted to their Furkids, no matter how much trouble they may cause.

And really, what more could you ask for?

Game On! Let’s Play!


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