The Day Moo Tod Stole the Toastie Again

It started with a very ordinary Thursday evening. I came home from work in Bang Kapi, tired and sweaty, carrying a 7-Eleven bag with my dinner: one ham and cheese toastie, one bottle of iced green tea. I put the bag on the floor for exactly ten seconds to unlock the door of the flat. Anyone who owns a pug knows that ten seconds is a very long time.

When I turned around, Moo Tod was sitting next to the bag with the most innocent face in Thailand. Round, golden, perfectly still. The toastie was gone. The plastic wrapper was gone too. He did not even have the decency to run away. He just licked his lips and snored a little, as if the whole thing had been my idea.

Of course I laughed first and panicked second. Cheese and ham in a hot sandwich are not great for a small dog, and the wrapper worried me more than the bread. I called the clinic near our soi, and the vet on the phone was very calm. She said to watch him closely, to offer small amounts of water, and to bring him in if he vomited, looked uncomfortable or refused to eat the next day. She also said to never try to make him sick at home without being told to. I wrote that on my hand.

We spent the night on the wooden floor together, because that is where he sulks and where he is happiest. Every hour I checked his belly and his breathing, which, for a pug, is already an adventure. By morning he was bouncing around the kitchen demanding breakfast. The wrapper, I am sorry to say, reappeared on the second day, and I will spare you the details. The vet looked him over anyway and said he had been lucky this time.

Now the rules in our flat are strict. Bags go on the high chair, not the floor. Bua the cockatiel watches from her bookshelf and whistles the 7-Eleven door chime every time I come in, which I am convinced is her way of warning the whole building. Moo Tod still stares at every shopping bag like it owes him money. If you have a pug and a convenience store nearby, please learn from my mistake.