Some days, the world likes to keep you off balance.
Like yesterday, when–less than a minute after rolling out of bed–I put a small flat pink pill into Rena Beagle’s mouth (her Soloxine), and she made those “didn’t go far enough gonna spit it back out” mouth motions and…
Spat out a larger, clear capsule full of brown powder.
“NO-OO,” I said. “That is just not right!”
I stared at the capsule in my hand, at the little container full of pink pills, at the dog, at the capsule…and came to the conclusion that something clearly supernatural had happened.
Because Rena had been closed up in the bedroom all night. She’d been sleeping in her bed all night. She’d still been sleeping when I lifted her head and popped the pill in, because Rena Beagle is like me–she gets up slow in the morning.
The capsule was recognizable–it’s an allergy support herbal that ConneryBeagle hasn’t taken for a month now. But since he gets his pills in his meals, and in particular likes to leave that one behind, it’s not a crazy notion to think she could scare one up around the crate area.
But when? Because those capsules are just gelatin. They break apart pretty quickly when wet. Just ask Connery.
So I went on with my day, but not with the ability to think about much besides Rena’s magic.
Eventually, I had an idea.
Rena Beagle has a tendency to snore, and to backwards sneeze. (In this household, that’s called snorking.)
But Friday evening a week ago, she plunged into weirdly severe snorking. I pondered inhalant allergies, since the classic Bad Things are just now blooming. Saturday was fine, and then on Sunday at the fun match she was all snorky again.
I put her on antihistamines. Which seemed to help for a day, but then the snorking was back, so after three days I took her off them and really, things were no different.
And then one morning she makes sleepy eyes at me and spits out this mystery pill.
Pinky, are you thinking what I’m thinking?
It’s not far-fetched that she might have snortled the thing up, or that the capsule–which gets sticky fast in absence of a good swallow–got stuck up in her pharynx somewhere for a while, and eventually reappeared. Much the worse for wear, I might say, but intact up until that moment.
The far-fetched thing is that it stayed sticky enough to remain stuck, and dry enough to remain intact for the greater part of a week. You know. Inside her HEAD.
So is the answer from the Sherlock Holmes school of thought, or the Transmorgrifier?
I’m not sure I’ll ever be sure…
She’s a magician. A scary one but definitely magic.
See? That’s what I thought!
I vote for transmorgifier. it has a nice ring to it. Thanks for snortled, an apt descriptor for the phenomena.
And then there’s snootling, which I stole from a Flagstaff friend, and which is the act of avidly sniffing around in search of molecules. So presumably Rena was snootling before she snortled, and then she ended up snorking.
roflol. thanks for the first big laugh of the day.
What an apt description of the sounds my Angie makes, too. And I’m glad to see that I’m not the only one that makes up words—all my acquaintances think I’m a little nuts when I do that.
I’ve given up stopping myself. ;>
Snootling to snortle, and then snorking. Right. Definitely a Hound. Y’gotta admit that if it WAS stuck, and shifted, it could have been a problem for her breathing! Transmogrification. Definitely. (And I wonder if it’s One of Those Girl Beagle Things, because it sounds like the same sort of thing Babette Beagle would do! I know she snootles and snorks… )
Backward sneezing is a reflex caused by irritation in the sinuses/pharynx area, so a capsule stuck up there definitely could have caused the snorking. It’s just amazing to me that it could have been stuck in a place where it stayed damp enough to stick but not wet enough to break through. The whole thing makes my head spin! (Rena’s too, apparently…)
‘Tis the week for fun play with words..o um maybe that’s called WordPlay? Duh.
Yes, WordPlay because we can’t help but noodle with the language around here! ;>