Fooled by the Mal

All last week, our 50-pound tank of a mutt, Malcolm, grazed on the leaves of our sweet potato leaves. We thought it was cute. Malcolm grazing like a cow on sweet tater leaves. Awwww.

Monday rolled around and Mal seemed lethargic, and this is saying something. He holds the couch down like nobody. But this was a new level of low energy, even for our lazy brown hound//pit bull/beagle mix.

I called Karen at work and she read up on sweet potato leaves and dogs and told me to take him to the vet. They're toxic to dogs, we learned. Though I'm not sure how good our sources were. I wrangled an appointment out of the vet for that afternoon, no mean feat given the time of my call: 4 p.m.

But I knew what the vet was going to say as soon as I held up Malcolm's leash. I knew he was going to be OK. I knew I had been had. He took one look at the leash and stood up, bounded around the living room and pawed at my legs.

Dog wasn't sick. He was just bored. He just wanted to go somewhere.