Dillon, day 144 of my life in DC!

Thursday, 2 March 2017

Oops, I did it again! Yeah, Yeah, I know that’s some tooty fruity, teeny bopper song, but that’s what happened. I puked on Dad’s foot… again! In my defense though, it’s wasn’t my fault. I’m blaming Mom and her silly little heart worm pills, gotta be.
I really don’t have a sensitive stomach. I’ve been training with Micky, the best. As Dad says, she’s a garbage disposal with legs. She eats anything and everything. So, I follow her lead and munch on a little of everything. None of it ever seems to bother me, but yesterday, something was off. Every time I turned around, I was gacking up stuff.
When Dad got home yesterday, he somehow managed to get here before Mom. As soon as we went outside, my stomach started rumbling. So, I repainted the deck with a lovely shade of puke. Dad felt bad for me, but figured that was the end of it. He was wrong!
All night long, I was coughing up something. They made me sit on a blanket on the couch, in case I got sick, but I managed to miss the blanket almost every time. Mom said it’s a good thing we don’t have a cloth couch, but also added that “we’re gettin’ a new couch this summer.” Mom’s a hoot. When I puked on Dad’s leg, yeah, I got that too, Dad was gonna go change. Instead, Mom said, “was it a lot of puke?” Like it’s okay that he had a little puke on his pant leg. I guess you really know you’re a dog owner when you determine whether to change your clothes by the amount of puke on your leg.
So, getting back to bedtime last night. By the time we went to bed, Mom had pretty much figured out that the heart worm pills were the only thing that was different in my diet. Time to find a different medication. Anyway, I had basically stopped having issues by the time I went to bed, so I got to sleep in the bed. And by in the bed, I mean way under the blankets by Dad’s feet. This is where the problems started. Literally, as soon as Dad turned out the light and settled in, my stomach got upset. You can guess what happened next. I puked, then the lights came on, and the blankets got thrown back. So much for sleeping in the bed…
I spent the rest of the night cooped up in my bedroom crate. (We have lots of crates.) In the morning, Dad checked on me, but still didn’t let me out. I don’t really blame him. If he had let me out when he left for work and I puked on Mom, we’d all be in solitary confinement. Nope, don’t blame him at all. Fortunately, my “bug” seems to have subsided and I’m back to normal now. Thank goodness!

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