Our dog eats things.
Things we don't even know about.
Around this time of year, she get a hold of sticks, leaves, and a ridiculous amount of her own fur.
Then she throws it up.
Our dog doesn't just throw up.
She makes this horrific noise when she throws up (or even feels like she's going to throw up, leading to lots of false alarms).
It's a cross between the cry of a hawk and Jurassic Park.
It sounds like something is living in her throat.
We have to withhold food and water from her until it subsides.
She is a gigantic pain in the ass.
She had me up multiple times last night with her hacking.
She had me on the floor at 1:23 AM cleaning up puke and bile and dog drool that smelled so disgusting, I could barely deal.
Not my finest moment.
Then she went and sat by the front door so that my scantily clad ass could freeze my nerps off holding her leash while she spent 15 minutes trying to take her dump.
Did I mention that Matt had already had 2 night terrors? Not sure if I can attribute those to the 5 minute nap he took in the car (changes in his sleep routine always cause night terrors, but 5 minutes???) or the Velociraptor we have living downstairs.
Husband briefly came downstairs to make sure everything was okay, let me know that he too felt nauseous, and tell me the dog was a mistake.
She kept hacking.
Matt had another night terror.
Hailey woke up scared out of her mind from one of the hacks.
I decided that I wouldn't go downstairs again until Dog was walking around. If she was just on her pillow hacking away, why should I traipse my ass down those stairs? To watch her? She just looked at me like I was a dumbass when I appeared, so I'll just lay there until I hear a gross splash on my floor or until it sounds like she's in real distress.
We finally got some quiet from 2:30 until my alarm went off at 6:00. At 6:13, Matt decides that he wants to get up and "be vewy vewy quiet downstairs." Ain't gonna happen, kid.
So, he lit his room up like Las Vegas with his singing Puppy, his owl, and his starry ladybug.
I stumble downstairs hoping there isn't an errant puddle of puke at the bottom of the stairs.
Dog is looking at me expectantly.
I let her outside to pee.
She comes back in and starts stalking me for food...with her annoying claws clicking on the floor.
She is not getting food.
My jaw is clenched. I tell her to "be quiet and go lay down!"
She stares at me.
I feel bad...she's sick, she's scared, she's sad. If it were one of my children (sorry...I'm not one of those "my dog is my child" people), I wouldn't be acting like this, would I?
We made a commitment to take care of her and we do a good job. Maybe she doesn't get her walks every day anymore, but she is fed, loved, and sheltered. She gets great medical attention and the kids adore her.
She eventually went back to her pillow to sleep it off and I got on the computer only to come across this post. It made me remember when we first got her. It made me remember how much time we spent training her and making sure she was happy. It made me remember how important it was that we walked her every single day even if that did involve me literally getting dragged down an icy sidewalk screaming for her to stop.
She's our Dog and even if she is a huge pain in the ass with this random Sick, she's a part of our family and we love her (even if her stomach is still turning and I can hear it and her farts are beyond horrendous).
Have I mentioned I'm exhausted today?