Just when I was falling into a very deep, relaxing sleep, I heard that sound. That horrible retching from the toes sound. Like toddlers used to have with stomach viruses and you faintly hear the retch and usually made it down the hall and busted into the little one’s bedroom just in time to shove a waste basket under their chin while they let loose demonic liquid from the soul of Satan into the bucket. Yeah. That sound. Only all the babies have grown and left the nest.
Now it’s the dog. I found him retching into a corner of my bedroom and it sounded like he was dying a slow but extremely loud death. Why is it always the corner with this one? So, since the hubster was still snoring away into his C-pap machine and not stirring a muscle, I got up and followed the dog around the house as he tried desperately to vomit into all the corners of our apartment. I felt so bad for him. No idea what he’d eaten or gotten into, but it had to have been horrible. He couldn’t get anything to come up (love those dry heaves) so he began licking carpet and eating random floating tumbleweeds of dog hair. This must be like eating grass to get the devil juice to come out.
Finally! He pukes so loud that I am sure I heard my neighbor upstairs ask his wife “WTF was that”? Oh, did I tell you he is aggressively protective of his own vomit? Yep. He turns into Cujo from Pet Cemetery and growls while baring his teeth. It’s ok Cujo, I don’t want to touch it anyway. Time to wake up the hubster.
We entice the pup into another room so we can clean up. Hubster takes the dog out at 1am to make sure it’s all out of his system. He even sees his doggie girlfriend on his walk. All is well and we go back to sleep.
Honestly, I think babies and toddlers are easier to clean up after than our dear sweet Demon Dog.
Anywho, Peace Love and Margaritas!