I didn't really think we'd get one. Surely not - we had all day on Sunday to dig ourselves out of the drifts. But this morning, I received a text from Watsuki - "you got your wish!" (I'd been wishing all of last week for a snow day - just one). I couldn't believe it. We consulted KYW - our 24hr "news" station, and sure enough - right on the top of their website, Philadelphia schools are closed. Hallelujah!
I decided to be very productive today. I ran errands this morning, and then spent most of the afternoon putting plastic up on the windows on the first floor: It is amazing the difference. No more drafts when you walk past a window, and when you leave for a bit, and come back the room actually retains its heat. Will wonders never cease.
Now, despite having a snow day, the email went out that we would still have our holiday party. Sounded like a lot of fun, dim sum, making our own, at a local Chinese restaurant. At 3:45, I was done with the windows and I went down to the basement to plug a few holes I knew of down there. Sure enough there was cold air blasting through cracks. the main one I stuffed with left over fiberglass insulation bags, and the other culprit will have to wait until next year for some serious work. I decided to use the spray insulation foam stuff to really plug things up. After working for a while, I realize it's a quarter after and I need to be at this party at 5. I put the empty spray foam bottle down and call Jacques to go upstairs.
As he passes me out the door of the basement, I see that he has brushed against some of the spray foam. While I'm getting tissues to get that sticky stuff off of him, I see him shoot past me down the hall. When I finally catch up with him, he is "aacking" and is foaming seriously at the mouth. He has tried to lick the expanding, sticky foam off of himself.
Time to panic.
Call my vet - tell them they are too far away and what is the number for the UPenn vet emergency.
Call UPenn emergency, and this ding dong who has to over-explain everything, tells me I have to call the Animal Poison control hot line and get a case number before he can help me.
Call the hot line, and the most calm, nerve wracking voice starts giving you options for whom you might want to speak with!!!
Meanwhile Jacques is still foaming, we are upstairs, and he is running around the place - I'm not sure what his goal was.
Finally I get the correct option: (press one to speak with a veterinary specialist), only to get another message in the calm, not-a-care-in-the-world voice: "Because we are a non-profit organization there is a $60 consultation fee payable by any major credit card. Please have your credit card ready." Unreal. But who cares. What I don't want is for the foam to expand on Jacques teeth, jaws, whatever and have his mouth weld shut.
Finally a very nice person came on the line and started taking info. When we figured out what it was that Jacques tried to lick off of himself, she informed me that Dow Chemical (the manufacturer) would be covering the consultation fee! (Thank you Dow Chemical!)
The bottom line is, the stuff is not poisonous. Thank goodness - BUT - he still needs to be watched because the concern is that perhaps he swallowed some and if it lodges itself in his intestinal track and expands it could cause serious trouble. The vet recommended that I give him wet food with Metamucil in it (to help him with his movements). That didn't go over too well. Six hours later he seams fine, but we won't be completely out of the woods until Wednesday.
After the initial panic had subsided, he sat on my lap, let me wipe some of the left over foam off of his mouth and started to purr. And later when I started going to the drug store for the Metamucil, I noticed him trying to like the matted residue off of his fur. His tongue promptly got stuck in it and as he tried to pull it out, it would take a hunk of fur along with it and he'd give a little yelp of pain. So I got the scissors and the electric razor and went to town, butchering all of the offensive stuff out of his fur.
Of course he loved the attention, purred the whole time. But now he looks like a five-year-old whose been given a haircut by a three-year-old.
And I didn't make it to the Christmas Party. Oh well...