Can't Laugh At The Dog Anymore

I think I just ate a piece of glass. No, I'm not kidding. I wish I was.

The Story, Long Version:
A friend calls me a few minutes ago and says, "Hey, I found a great deal on Boston Butts, but our freezer is slam packed. You got any room?" I tell him I can see what I can do, and start cleaning out the fridge. I reach back where I've got some Minute Maid Juice Bars, and for some odd reason, they're sticky. I don't think much about it, because I have frozen juice back there, and, hey, things happen, so maybe one got a little melty or exploded, right?

Something small, cold, hard and slightly sticky sticks to my finger, and, assuming that it's a piece of frozen fruit juice or the frost from the juice bars, I do what I normally would, and lick it off my finger. I crunch down on the ice, and think, "Hmm, this is some weird ice."



The finally it dawns on me: friends of mine came down from Michigan for a baby shower I threw for some friends. They brought with them some sparkling fruit juice for me from one of my favorite wineries in Michigan, St. Julian's.


I put one in the freezer "for a few minutes" which actually turned out to be more like, um, well, a whole day. If you are unfamiliar with what happens to glass bottles of liquids placed in a freezer until they are frozen, let me fill you in, unless you really want to discover it for yourself: it goes BOOM. I don't know how I didn't hear the shattering glass, but since I've not heard much more stupendously amazing explosions, I guess it shouldn't surprise me.

But the next day, I reach into the freezer only to find the entire inside of it covered in sticky, frozen sparkling peach wine and green shards of glass. I thought I cleaned it out, but I guess I missed a few pieces. And I seriously think I just ate one.

I know, I know: what does this have to do with a dog??? We have a friend with a beautiful, lovable, but not overly bright dog named Einstein. (The name came first, I think.) Now don't get me wrong here: I do love the dog. In the words of Pulp Fiction, "Personality goes a long way!" He's also got his own brand of smarts in a way... but... well... he ate a light bulb.

Obviously up until today I had no idea how you could get past the crunch of the glass -- but now I know. From this point onward, I will be forever convinced the light bulb was coated in bacon, and he just didn't realize it until it was too late. Poor dog.

The follow up is that I'm now sitting here wondering how where this tiny shard is going to end up. I'm hoping I don't notice.

The Story, Short Version:
I ate a piece of glass stuck to my finger, and have been forced to classify myself as dumb as a Weimaraner. It's been a weird day for me.