2 a.m., Bangkok: The Night We Raced a Neighbour's Puppy to a 24-Hour Vet

The knock on my door came at ten to two. It was Khun Pim from the flat across the hall, still in her pyjamas, holding a trembling Pomeranian puppy wrapped in a towel. She had left a small bag of chocolate biscuits on the sofa, and the puppy, three months old, had eaten most of the packet. She had Googled it and was already crying. I said the only sensible thing I could think of: we call a vet now.

I grabbed my keys, left my corgi Crumpet half asleep and deeply offended on the sofa, and we ordered a taxi. At that hour, even Sukhumvit is almost empty, and the driver understood within two seconds and took us through three back sois I have never seen. I phoned the clinic on the way, a 24-hour animal hospital near Asok that I had saved in my contacts weeks before. They asked how big the puppy was, what he had eaten, roughly how much and when. We could answer only two of the three questions. Khun Pim had not kept the empty packet. We found it later under a cushion.

At the clinic, a calm young vet took over. She weighed him, checked his heart and gave him treatment right away. She explained that chocolate can be dangerous for dogs, depending on the type and amount, and that she would keep him for observation overnight. She told us not to try to make him vomit at home, as it can cause more problems unless a vet says so. Khun Pim sat in the waiting room with a cup of tea she did not drink while I watched a gecko on the wall and tried not to panic on her behalf.

By five in the morning the puppy was awake, wobbly and demanding food. The vet said he would be fine and would go home later that day, and that we had done exactly the right thing by coming quickly. Khun Pim hugged me in the taxi and said it was the worst and most useful night of her life.

Here is the checklist I now keep on my fridge, and have shared with the whole floor. The address and opening hours of the nearest 24-hour clinic. A photo of any packet, label or plant. A small carrier or a large towel. A phone number saved under "VET NIGHT". And cash, just in case.

Crumpet, by the way, slept through all of it and woke me at seven with a shoe in her mouth.