Graham’s BBQ Blunder: An Ode to Onions, Friends & Out of Hours Visits

Hi friends, it’s Graham the greyhound and I am back with a tail-wagging blog update you didn’t know you needed (but you’re welcome anyway)! I feel like so much has happened since we last spoke, so it’s only right I update you guys. Firstly, can we talk about that horrendous heatwave we had in the UK? What in the name of burnt paw pads was that all about?! It was so hot I swear I saw the devil in sunglasses wandering the streets.  And me? I was melting. MELTING. I'm a black greyhound, aka a walking solar panel. I sizzled just standing still. Thankfully, I’ve got short hair, unlike old Spag Bol, the Komondor mop dog I met in the park. That poor walking rag rug must’ve been roasting alive. Respect to the floofy legend. 

Anyway, Mum noticed I was practically stewing in my own fur and ordered one of those giant tower fans with next-day delivery. When that beast of a fan arrived, I lived in front of it like a royal. Full blast, roaching like a champ, airing out everything Mother Nature gave me. Life was GOOD. Dad was howling with laughter, taking photos every two seconds. What’s a dog got to do to get some peace around here? 

Ava and Danny are officially on Summer holidays. Six weeks of chaos, noise and snacks. We’ve been living the good life with some paddling pool action, ice cream for the humans, and custard creams for all.  Mum had to tell Ava and Danny to leave me alone during the heatwave because I was sprawled by the fan like a diva. Normally I’d be leaping around playing fetch like a lunatic, but I was ZONKED. That heat took me down. Honestly, I caught up on so much sleep I think I entered a new realm. 16 hours a day? Pfft, that’s nothing. Try 20! Elite greyhound snoozer status unlocked!! 

The main update I must tell you about is the big family BBQ that Mum and Dad hosted in our garden. I have re-named it ‘The BBQ Incident of Shame’ (yes, it's as dramatic as it sounds). It was on a Saturday afternoon and everyone was excited. I didn’t really know what to expect but I knew Nanny was coming with Grace, so I was mostly excited about that! Danny kept mentioning all the food... I wondered how much there would be?! 

The morning of the BBQ, I got kicked out the kitchen. Mum said I was “in the way.” I prefer “essential kitchen presence”, but fine. She shut the door and all I could do was sniff the chickeny, meaty goodness coming from within... torture, pure torture. 

By the time I had gotten over the rumble in my tummy from the constant sweet scent from the kitchen, people began to arrive. I was so excited. I met people I’d never met before, something along the lines of sisters and cousins? Whatever that meant, it meant there were more people to fuss me and more Ava’s here to play with. Ava introduced me as her bestie. That’s right people, Official Bestie Status. Put it on a medal. 

We were outside for most of the BBQ. I splashed about in the paddling pool with Grace while Nanny kept topping up the water bowls like the queen she is. Then Dad lit this metal barrel thing (a BBQ, for those unfamiliar with man-fire rituals) and the meat went on. It sizzled. It smelt like HEAVEN. Dad stood guard like it was the Crown Jewels, burger flipper in one hand, beer in the other, chatting away while I sat in the corner manifesting a sausage. 

Mum told Nanny to make sure Grace and I stayed away as there were nasties on there, and she didn’t want a trip to the vets... especially out of hours! I hadn’t seen the vet in a while, I thought, but I agreed there was no need for a check-up. Let's not make any unnecessary trips- I'm sure the vets can do without seeing us today! All the children were running around, screeching, and playing. I was trying my best to be a good boy despite the smells, the chaos, and the sheer BBQ drama wafting around me. 

And then... it happened. 

Suddenly, humans were sprinting to the corner of the garden. One of the kids (Ava’s cousin, I think) had gone down like a sack of potatoes. Blood. Screams. Panic. I instantly panicked in case it was Danny or Ava, I ran into the crowd of people and barged into people to make sure they were okay. To my relief Ava was cuddling Mum and Danny was stood around while their cousin was on the floor with blood pouring out his leg. He must have slipped over. Once I knew Ava and Danny were safe and sound, I had an idea. I must admit, I knew this was cheeky and most definitely “pushing the boundaries”, as Linda Biscuits would say. 

I sneaked out of the pack like a furry ninja. The metal barrel was UNGUARDED. Dad had left his post. The smell of meat was intoxicating. I followed my snout to salvation. I jumped up... HOT. HOT HOT HOT. Metal barrel = lava. Noted.  Then I spotted a plate of long white things, the smell was strong, and they looked delicious. I grabbed a pawful. Absolute HEAVEN. I couldn’t resist - I went back and pulled the whole plate down. Smash. Everyone turned... 

Busted. 

Dad sprinted towards me. I swallowed quickly and grabbed a burger, trying to wolf it down like I hadn’t eaten in three hours (which I hadn’t, so fair enough). Mid-munch, Dad yanked my collar. Mum screamed. Dad panicked. Something about onions? Apparently, I’d just scoffed a whole plate of fried onions and Mum went full code red. Mum was almost in tears and Dad phoned up the vet to ask what we should do. They asked if I was lethargic, had pale gums or was vomiting. They said I wasn’t showing any of these symptoms. I heard the vet on the phone say it was probably too early, it’s best to come in and avoid these symptoms occurring. Next thing I know, I’m being marched to the car for an emergency vet visit. I tried to act chill, but inside I was thinking, “Graham. You fool.” 

I then found myself in the boot of the car on the way to the dreaded vets. I knew at this point I had messed up badly. We soon arrived at the vets. It was a weekend so it was very quiet. Mum said something about "out of hours", it's giving expensive vibes. We went in, and the vet met us at the door immediately, ushering us into a consultation room. She seemed quite nice, with her hair scraped up into a bun and pale blue glasses, and she smelled faintly of vanilla... ooo, custard creams. She wore her vet scrubs and checked my heart rate with her necklace thing. I decided she needed a lick, so I kept licking her face. She giggled, asking me to stay still, while Mum knelt down beside me, stroking me. Oh, wow, all this fuss for me? Now I don’t mind if I do. She laughed. I tried to distract her from the whole poisoned-myself thing. 

However, the fun then stopped. The vet said something like she could hear a lot of gargling noises in my stomach as I was trying to digest to poisonous food I ate. The best thing for me was to sick the food up and this would need to be induced manually. Mum signed some paperwork, and the vet lady went off to another room for her stuff.  

I could sense fear from Mum and began to tremble; I didn’t like where this was heading. I backed up to mum's knees and when the vet came towards me with her potions, I was afraid. I wouldn’t let her near me; I hid behind mum and growled a little. Mum was shocked and the vet assured her that that is normal with fear, it’s a way of me telling her no. The lady vet sat by me and stroked me; it made me feel more at ease. Okay, maybe it wasn’t going to be that bad after all, she said she was trying to help me. 

I’m going to leave out the gory details, friends, you don’t need to know the ins and outs. Let’s just say the vet saw me in a very undignified position and I have wholeheartedly learnt my lesson. Mum cried. I felt AWFUL, but then she bought me a new toy so... guilt = forgiven. 

We went home, where I drank loads of water, napped for 14 hours straight and received a Get Well Soon card from Ava. Mum kept calling me her brave boy and Dad mumbled something about onions costing him £300. Oops. 

That was a few weeks ago now and I’m back to my usual long-legged mischief. I’m happy to report I am officially an onion SURVIVOR. (Maybe a bit dramatic, but I deserve it.) 

Thanks for reading my tale of BBQ betrayal and onion-based regret. Catch you next time with a less traumatic update! 

Love and licks, Graham x