Blarg, I didn't get out of bed until 2PM today. I felt like utter crap but the worst part was that it was my own stupid fault - I drank too much red wine last night. I bought this new one at World Market, Simi Alexander Valley Cabernet and it was gooood. I had too much and when I woke up at 9AM, I had a whanging headache that felt like a railroad spike being drilled into my skull over my left eye. I couldn't believe I had a stinking hangover; while I drink wine frequently, it is extremely rare that I drink enough to suffer for it. I went back to bed until the afternoon.
My cat Finnovar risked a hangover once. I assure you that I'm not some sicko who thinks it's funny to get the pets drunk - it was totally of his own volition. One evening I poured myself a cocktail and went to sit on the hearth where I had a lovely fire going, placing my glass on the floor beside me. Finnovar came over to investigate but since my drink was Scotch on the rocks, there was nothing to tempt a kitty. I figured he'd take one sniff of Scotch fumes and stalk away in disgust, thinking, "Bah! Humans!" Imagine my shock a few minutes later when I reached for my drink to take a sip only to discover that The Finn had his entire head down in the glass, lapping up great tonguefuls of Scotch! A frantic call to poison control and a frantic call to Dr. Mike the vet rendered the verdict that he probably hadn't consumed enough to harm him, if he'd had too much he'd throw up and that he might need an aspirin later. He didn't throw up and since that was over a decade ago and the cat is in perfect health, I don't think his walk on the wild side did any particular harm, though I now keep the Scotch on a shelf too high for him to reach.
It's funny, though - if Finnovar did go on a bender, I'm certain he would do so with the finest Scotch obtainable, probably a lovely, smoky single-malt. Sprocket, on the other hand - Sprocket is the kind of guy who'd bust into the liquor store and yell, "I'ma get tore up! What can I buy the most of for fifteen bucks?!?", get all wild on PBR and go running through the neighborhood raising hell and widdling on everyone's car. Come to think of it, that's what he did last night.
My cat Finnovar risked a hangover once. I assure you that I'm not some sicko who thinks it's funny to get the pets drunk - it was totally of his own volition. One evening I poured myself a cocktail and went to sit on the hearth where I had a lovely fire going, placing my glass on the floor beside me. Finnovar came over to investigate but since my drink was Scotch on the rocks, there was nothing to tempt a kitty. I figured he'd take one sniff of Scotch fumes and stalk away in disgust, thinking, "Bah! Humans!" Imagine my shock a few minutes later when I reached for my drink to take a sip only to discover that The Finn had his entire head down in the glass, lapping up great tonguefuls of Scotch! A frantic call to poison control and a frantic call to Dr. Mike the vet rendered the verdict that he probably hadn't consumed enough to harm him, if he'd had too much he'd throw up and that he might need an aspirin later. He didn't throw up and since that was over a decade ago and the cat is in perfect health, I don't think his walk on the wild side did any particular harm, though I now keep the Scotch on a shelf too high for him to reach.
It's funny, though - if Finnovar did go on a bender, I'm certain he would do so with the finest Scotch obtainable, probably a lovely, smoky single-malt. Sprocket, on the other hand - Sprocket is the kind of guy who'd bust into the liquor store and yell, "I'ma get tore up! What can I buy the most of for fifteen bucks?!?", get all wild on PBR and go running through the neighborhood raising hell and widdling on everyone's car. Come to think of it, that's what he did last night.
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