The stairs to the basement. Imagine tumbling down them, your face stuck in an ice cream carton. That’s what happened to Pablo last night. After doling out the last of Whole Foods Vanilla Ice Cream (delicious btw), I gave the empty carton to him. I left him licking it in the kitchen while I enjoyed my dessert pug-free in the living room. I was a bite or two in when I heard a prolonged crash. Immediately I jumped up, already fearing the cause of the noise.
The kitchen was empty. I switched on the basement light (the door remains open 24/7 because the litter boxes reside there) and at the foot of the stairs was the ice cream carton but no Pablo. I rushed dow, calling to him, and he came out from where he was hiding. Upstairs he seemed none the worse for wear and immediately resumed licking the rest of the ice cream from the carton. This morning, though, I noticed a slight limp, which seems to have resolved itself by this afternoon.
I am aware it could have been much, much worse. He could have broken his leg or banged his head or who knows what. Of course, I feel terribly guilty and have begged his forgiveness, which he has kindly granted. From now on, no more treats all alone in the kitchen, at least not with the door open.