{"id":6414,"date":"2026-03-24T06:57:53","date_gmt":"2026-03-24T05:57:53","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/damiengaleone.com\/?p=6414"},"modified":"2026-03-24T06:58:43","modified_gmt":"2026-03-24T05:58:43","slug":"plastics","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/damiengaleone.com\/?p=6414","title":{"rendered":"Plastics"},"content":{"rendered":"\n
\"\"<\/a><\/figure>\n\n\n\n

It\u2019s Saturday morning and I am winding up some work that should be done in a few minutes. My face feels weird and after running my hands over it, I realize that I am smiling. This smile is based on the fact that for the first weekend in about 6 weeks, I don\u2019t have to work throughout the entire weekend.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Some work to do? Yes.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Slaving over my keyboard all day and night until Monday? No.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Smile.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

And I have plans. When I finish this last little bit, I will work out, and then I will go downtown to buy hotdog buns. Sound crazy? You wouldn\u2019t think so if you\u2019d had these buns? Like golden doughy envelopes of heaven that make you forget you have worked through the last 6 weekends.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The workout begins. It\u2019s the only thing in the way of a joy that can only come from having freedom of not being needed while having hotdogs. As I begin my first squat, an ominous crunching sound comes from somewhere in the room. There are a few kinds of crunching sounds. There\u2019s happy food crunching, which comes from biting into cereal or nutty candby; there\u2019s sad food crunching which suggests the diner is eating carrots or celery. Then there\u2019s an unnatural crunching, which suggests that the thing being crunched into had planned to stay intact for the remainder of its existence. This crunch implies a post-crunch cleanup session.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

This is one of those crunches.     <\/p>\n\n\n\n

A plastic lens from Burke\u2019s eyeglasses has popped out and the dog is doing her best to crack it into several small pieces \u2013 aka shards.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

My workout shifts from squats and burpees to diving to the ground and wrestling with a Shih tzu while jamming my fingers in her mouth to extract shards of plastic. I get what I can and spread the pieces out on the counter so I can recreate the jigsaw puzzle. It\u2019s mostly accounted for \u2013 big pieces and a few shards \u2013 but there is certainly a tiny gap or two. The dog is licking her chops like she does after dinner.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

A quick search online confirms the danger of having sharp things go through a small dog\u2019s intestines. Two calls to emergency vets get the same reaction: You should bring her in.<\/em> But an emergency vet on a Saturday, the subtext is: don\u2019t forget your wallet<\/em>.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Ten minutes later, we\u2019re outside. The dog is running and sniffing and enjoying life. She unloads two poops and though I am fairly certain it couldn\u2019t have been digested and processed yet, I check the poop. You never know; the dog\u2019s like a foot long. Nevertheless, there\u2019s nothing. Nothing but a middle-aged man inspecting poop and explaining it to the dog.    <\/p>\n\n\n\n

This is naturally when Artem pulls up as my Uber Pet driver. He locks his own door as I get in the back. I get it, for sure. How safe can you be with a pissed-off looking weirdo who talks to poop and is now carrying a little dog into your car. But still, I\u2019m in<\/em> the car. What good did locking your driver\u2019s side do?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The ride is ten minutes. I spend the time reviewing phrases and vocabulary that I sometimes know, sometimes forget. Poop (verb), throw up, swallow, sharp. <\/em>The receptionist is alone in the waiting room. I say hello.<\/p>\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n

\u2018You\u2019re dog swallowed plastic?\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u2018That\u2019s me. Or her.\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I am given a form, which I fill out on a comfortable couch that may have appeared in Star Trek. Looking around, I realize the place has been renovated to unrecognizability. I \u2018hmm\u2019 and hand back the form.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Two women come in with a cat in a crate and the mood immediately becomes 21 Grams somber. As they speak to the reception, the receptionist pokes her head around with a few follow ups. Is she on any medicine?<\/em> No. Does she have a rabies vaccination?<\/em> Yes. Is she castrated?<\/em> Yes. (Here, I consider making a joke \u2013 me or the dog, but the room is read and I avoid stupidity.)<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Emergency hospitals \u2013 for humans or animals \u2013 are usually not happy places, but full of things trying to be happy. There are stuffed animals and a water bowl with little weird animals on it. But when you go to one, something bad is happening. At best, it\u2019s not as bad as you thought. No, Mr. Smith you\u2019re not having a heart attack. It\u2019s a panic attack. Here\u2019s some Xanax, now go home, eat some ice cream, and watch The Avengers.<\/em> This is the best-case scenario. From there is just gets worse and worse. Someone is sick, someone needs attention, you\u2019re not out of the woods for a few days. And then of course the worst-case scenario: someone goes to an emergency hospital and they don\u2019t leave.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

This is what is going through my head as the cat owners open up the cat crate and begin tearing up. It\u2019s a bad day for someone; one of those days \u2013 by the law of numbers \u2013 will be bad for me. Right now, my stomach drops for them. The dog is calm but a little confused, just ten minutes ago she was in her bed eating a perfectly delicious pair of glasses. And now, this. What gives?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

We get called in. Like the reception area, the furniture is space-aged but comfortable. Like where you\u2019d sit before you were called in to give a report and a list of red-shirted casualties to Captain Kirk. They have remodelled. Subtly, I make sure my wallet is in my pocket.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I explain things to the doctor in Czech the way a child would after several shots of nighttime cold medicine and being spun in circles while wearing a football helmet. The vet inspects the dog, and goes rectal for the temperature. He says everything looks fine. We put together the jigsaw puzzle and he explains our choices. We\u2019ll give her a gel to help protect her intestines and help push anything out and protect her stomach.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

He’s cheerful and it seems that this visit to the emergency hospital won\u2019t be too bad for me and mine. I heave out a sigh of relief. But the vet gives me an eye gooey with subtext and I catch it: You will spend your day scouring poop for plastic.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I nod. It\u2019s a small price to pay.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Except the bill. That\u2019s the big price to pay.  <\/p>\n\n\n\n

OK, so this time it won\u2019t be my bad time. I consider myself and my dog lucky. When we get back to reception, the women and their cat are in with a doctor and my dog decides the receptionist is a long-lost friend. Who knows? Maybe she is; I don\u2019t know how these things work. They play while the doctor sends through his report and the prescription.  <\/p>\n\n\n\n

We take the metro home. The dog loves the metro and I figured I\u2019d let her enjoy herself. She runs around the park at home. Burke comes down. I give her the overview. Everything\u2019s fine. We have to look through poop to find the rest of your glasses. The dog hops and plays and achieves a level of joy one has after leaving the doctor with an \u2018all\u2019s more or less OK\u2019.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I tell her about the bill. She winces. But neither of us cares about that. She suggests lunch.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

We salvage the day by enjoying an afternoon of being served beers and fatty foods with fries. I feed the dog half my fries, and a little of my baguette end. I buy her some of these little cheese sticks that she loves and a bag of her treats. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

She can have anything. As long as it doesn\u2019t crunch.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

It\u2019s Saturday morning and I am winding up some work that should be done in a few minutes. My face feels weird and after running my hands over it, I realize that I am smiling. This smile is based on the fact that for the first weekend in about 6 weeks, I don\u2019t have to […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":6415,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":true,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","default_image_id":0,"font":"","enabled":false},"version":2},"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false},"categories":[8],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-6414","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-blog"],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/damiengaleone.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/03\/1280px-Astig_Pince_Nez_rimless.jpg?fit=1280%2C762&ssl=1","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/s1EvEu-plastics","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/damiengaleone.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/6414","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/damiengaleone.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/damiengaleone.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/damiengaleone.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/damiengaleone.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=6414"}],"version-history":[{"count":3,"href":"https:\/\/damiengaleone.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/6414\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":6418,"href":"https:\/\/damiengaleone.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/6414\/revisions\/6418"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/damiengaleone.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/6415"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/damiengaleone.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=6414"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/damiengaleone.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=6414"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/damiengaleone.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=6414"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}