She thought it was a great idea at the time. A remarkable opportunity even. How often is a dog left alone in the basement after all? As she snacked her way through the tasty cat box bites, Miss Tibbit savored the rewards of her momentary independence. The biggest, best bits gone, Sweet Tibbit thought she would have just one more nibble of the wheat cat litter. Delicious. She paused, licking her chops, and yes, perhaps one more sample. And another. Perhaps a bit more.
I admit, that part is recreative speculation based on observations taken during subsequent events.
The first hour after Tibbit was found in and removed from the basement, she couldn’t get comfortable. Her belly was too achingly full to lay down and she sat on the bed next to me awkward and tense, staring intently into the middle distance. I wondered then, did Miss Tibbit regret her feast?
I left for a couple of hours of work, where concentration was hard won as I imagined the messy horror Sweet Tibbit may have been producing. Returning home finally, I was relieved to see that all was well.
All wasn’t well. I simply remained ignorant of the coming storm.
Sweet Tibbit’s belly decided it had enough of the tasty little box treats and it evicted the partially digested material. Voluminously. Twice. On two separate rugs. The aroma was remarkable. It was an aggressively physical miasma that billowed out from the sloshy and disturbingly lumpy source puddles. The WideEyedSpouse retched helplessly as he cleaned the first puddle. Later I came across him retching over the second puddle as he prepared the steam cleaner. Again I wondered, does Miss Tibbit feel regret? Has she learned her lesson?
Feeling better and prancing around the house, Miss Tibbit decided she would like to spend some time in the yard. I was only too happy to oblige her. It was an elegant justification for removing myself from the event horizon. But then of course, Sweet Tibbit engaged in Stage 2 processes. Not nice. Not nice at all.
It is now two days later, and Sweet Tibbit apparently is empty. She is getting tired of bland rice for breakfast. Bland rice for dinner. Bland rice for snackies. She licks at the rice and rejects it as inedible. Which, given recent events, I find pretty amazing.
Did Miss Tibbit learn a lesson from her Very Bad Day?
Ten minutes ago I caught her doing preliminary investigations of the litter box while I was in the basement. Useless little black dog.
wideeyedfunk 
I have been sitting here trying to think of a powerful word to describe the smell that bludgeoned my senses when I crouched down to begin the arduous task of cleaning up Tibbit’s stomach contents from the floor…twice. I can’t come up with one. I spent one college summer working at a waste treatment facility and that was like fresh cut flowers compared to this. Suffice it to say that I am not easily affected by horrible smells, but my body reacted independently of my mind when the smell accosted me. It forced me back, retching all the way…tears streaming down my face. Tibbit didn’t even want anything to do with it. Each time she just stood back from it with a blank stare on her face that screamed…”Get that out of here! Can’t you smell that? Ugh! Don’t just stand there crying! Use your opposable thumbs and get to work you hump! I obviously didn’t want it anymore…clean it up!”
That smell was just wrong.
Thanks for the eyewitness reporting.
Funny!? It’s supper time but suddenly I’m not hungry! At least Tibbit’s adventures are good for the waistline 🙂
She is not useless. She inspires good stories!
I guess. Don’t tell her – she’ll expect to be paid as a consultant.