Emma Collins Facebook ad: “Read this if your dog ate something toxic”

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1831386127823005

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41

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I almost lost her because of a cookie. Not a dog treat. Not something she got into at the park. A cookie that was mine, that I left in my bag, that my two-year-old German Shepherd found in the dark before I even realized what was happening. Her name is Reya. She's the kind of dog that makes strangers stop on the sidewalk. Big, gorgeous, impossibly loyal. She's never been sick a day in her life. Never had a single health issue. I used to joke that she was basically indestructible. I stopped making that joke in March. --- It started with a sound. I was half-asleep on the couch, the TV still on, when I heard it. That crunchy, deliberate chewing sound that every dog owner knows means something is wrong. I jumped up and found her in the dark hallway, already swallowing, already nosing back into my bag looking for more. My stomach dropped before my brain even caught up. I knew immediately what she'd gotten into. I'd had an edible in the front pocket of my bag — something I'd completely forgotten about — and she'd found it the way dogs always find the one thing they absolutely shouldn't have. Efficiently. Enthusiastically. Without hesitation. I called her vet while I was still standing in the hallway. We tried hydrogen peroxide to induce vomiting. It worked, partially. And then we waited. --- You know what nobody tells you about waiting to see if your dog is okay? It's not dramatic. It's not like the movies. It's just... quiet. And still. And completely unbearable. Reya got sluggish within the hour. Then lethargic. Then she just went somewhere I couldn't reach her — eyes open, body present, but completely unresponsive. For six hours, I sat on the floor next to her and watched her breathe and talked to her and told her she was okay even though I had no idea if she was okay. The vet said she'd likely be fine. That THC toxicity in dogs looks terrifying but is rarely fatal. That I just had to let her sleep it off. I understood the words. I couldn't feel them. Because here's the thing about a dog who's never been sick — you don't have a reference point. You don't know what "she'll be okay" looks like when you've never had to test it before. Every shallow breath felt like a question I didn't know how to answer. I kept thinking: what if I'd gotten there thirty seconds later? What if she'd eaten the whole thing? --- She came back to me around 4 in the morning. First her tail. Just a slow, uncertain wag. Then her eyes focused. Then she lifted her head and looked at me like she was confused about why I was crying on the floor next to her. I ugly-cried into her fur for a solid ten minutes. She let me. She always lets me. --- After that night, I became a little obsessed. I'm not someone who panics easily. I'm not someone who goes down research rabbit holes. But I spent the next three days reading everything I could find about what to actually do when a dog ingests something toxic — because the hydrogen peroxide worked, but it was also traumatic for her, and I kept thinking: is that really the best option we have? The answer, apparently, is complicated. Inducing vomiting has a window. If you miss it, or if the substance has already moved past the stomach, it doesn't help. And for certain toxins, it can actually make things worse. What vets often use instead — what's considered a front-line response in a lot of emergency situations — is activated charcoal. It binds to toxins in the digestive system before they can be absorbed into the bloodstream. I'd heard of activated charcoal vaguely. Knew it existed. Had no idea it was something you could actually keep at home for exactly this kind of situation. I found Pet+ Activated Charcoal Gel after reading through a long thread on a German Shepherd owners forum. Someone had posted about their dog getting into rat poison, and the responses kept coming back to the same thing — having activated charcoal on hand, being able to administer it quickly, not losing the window while you're waiting for a vet callback at midnight. The same product came up in three different threads over two days of reading. Pet+ is formulated specifically for dogs. It comes in a gel form, which means you can actually get it into a panicking animal without a fight. It's designed to be administered at home in the critical window before you can get to a vet — not as a replacement for veterinary care, but as something you can do immediately while you're making the calls and figuring out next steps. I thought about that night. About standing in the hallway. About the thirty seconds between hearing the sound and getting to her. I ordered it that afternoon. --- I want to be honest: I ordered it hoping I'd never need it. That's the whole point, isn't it? You buy the fire extinguisher and you hope it sits under your sink for ten years collecting dust. You buy the first aid kit and you hope it stays sealed. But I also knew — after that night, after six hours on the floor — that I couldn't be the person who didn't have it. The gel arrived two days later. I read through the instructions carefully. Looked up the dosing guidelines for Reya's weight. Put it in the cabinet where I keep her other emergency supplies, right next to the vet's number and the pet poison hotline. And then I felt something I hadn't felt since that night. A little bit of control. A little bit of ready. --- Reya is completely fine now. She's back to being herself — demanding, dramatic, convinced that every meal I eat should be shared with her. She has no memory of that night. She holds no grudges. I think about it every time I look at her. I think about the thirty seconds. The dark hallway. The sound of crunching. I think about all the things that can happen in a house with a dog who is curious and fast and utterly without self-preservation instinct. The medications on the counter. The grapes someone left on the coffee table. The next thing she finds before I realize what's happening. I can't prevent all of it. I know that. But I can be ready in a way I wasn't before. --- If you have a dog — especially a big one, especially a young one, especially one who treats the world like a buffet — please look up Pet+ Activated Charcoal Gel. It's not expensive. It takes up almost no space. And it gives you something to do in the worst moments, when waiting feels like the only option and every second counts. I'm not a vet. I'm not giving medical advice. I'm just someone who sat on a floor for six hours and came out the other side wanting to be more prepared than I was. Hug your dogs tonight. Check your bags. And maybe order the thing you hope you never need. Because the thirty seconds matter. And you want to be ready for them.

Where the ad sends people

petplus.co

Read this if your dog ate something toxic 👆

Pet+ Activated Charcoal Gel — the first-aid kit essential for dogs & cats. Ready-to-use oral syringe, no mixing. Keep one on hand for the unexpected.