Things That Make Me Heave

There’s never a boring moment around here.

Yesterday, our senior Golden Retriever was extra whiny. She seemed to want water. My husband gave her a full bowl. Not knowing he’d already supplied her, I gave her another full bowl. A few hours later, my littlest gave her another full bowl and shut her in the laundry room, which is her little space in our hectic house.

Immediately after lunch, I heard her whining in the laundry room and thought she might need to go out. Um, no. She’d puked allllllllll ooooooovvvvveeeer.

No puke is good puke. Dog puke is particularly bad. There’s no way to direct it to a toilet or a bowl. And, our pup is basically a canine vacuum, snuffling up whatever she can kind find on the floor. (Might be why she’s sick??) Needless to say, objects identified or unidentified in dog vomit aren’t very pleasant.

While I was attending to our sick dog and cleaning up copious amounts of hellacious fluids, my littlest went to the bathroom. I think she must’ve had a little problem, which she tried to clean up herself, making it a HUGE problem… of the poop variety.

I had just walked out of the laundry room, anxious to jump in the shower, when I heard her wee voice yelling, “Mooooooommmmmmyyy” from her bathroom.

Dry heave city. Let me tell you.

KJ came home from lunch to find the washer and dryer going, another mountain of disgustingly dirty clothes waiting their turn by the washer and me lying prostrate and nauseous on the couch.

It took me two hours of recovery time and several White Barn candles before I felt semi-normal again.

That was yesterday.

Today’s challenge is to get H. and A. through two separate dentist appointments without tranquilizers. Already, it is HIGH drama over here.

PS – if they can’t have sedation, can I get some?

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