Whoever said having pets is similar to having children, hit the nail square on the head. Last night was a horrible experience. Well I guess I should say this morning was a horrible experience. I slept great most of the night. At 4:45, I awoke to a whimpering dog by the side of the bed. "Ah man, my husband was right." Or so I thought.
Let me start from the beginning. Yesterday after work my husband gave our dog his full daily helping of food for dinner. I tried to give him a half cup in the morning before I left for work but he freaked out and spilled most of it on the bathroom floor. I made him clean up his mess and then I took the rest of his food away and left for work.
That evening after I got home, my husband tells me that he's already fed the dog. "Cool," I said. So I head upstairs to get the bowl of remaining food from that morning. Usually our dog won't eat more than it takes to get full so I didn't think it was a problem to put the remaining food on the floor. Mistake #1. To both of our surprise our dog scarfed down the rest of the soggy morning food. As he's eating, my husband looks down and says "I don't know. That's an awful lot of food he's eating. The poop train is going to roll through town pretty early." I shrug my shoulders and say, "Nah, he'll be fine".
4:45 the whimpering starts. Crap. He probably has to poop. I probably shouldn't ignore this. So I roll out of bed and take him outside. As we head back up to bed I hear a faint, "burp, gurgle, gurgle". I pause for a second and contemplate if I should let him back outside. "Nahhh, he was just out there for ten minutes." Mistake #2.
No sooner does my head hit the pillow, I hear that same "burp, gurgle, gurgle," but this time with a little more force. "Nooooooooo!" I know that sound all too well. I grab my headlamp from the nightstand and shine it on the floor. "Nooooooooo! Are you kidding me right now? You couldn't have done that thirty seconds ago while you were outside?!" A big, strike that, HUGE, pile of mushy dog food vomit all over the floor. Like half the size of my dog, kind of huge. How did that even come out of him? Even with the two bowls of food, that was way more that came out than we put in. Grumbling under my breath I head downstairs for the roll of paper towels, trash can and carpet cleaner. Trying to be considerate of my sleeping husband I start scrubbing the floor with just the light from my headlamp. All clean. I decide I should probably let him outside again but he won't go. "Go Albert, Go!" Of course he won't go. What else could possibly come out of him? I let him back inside and we head to bed. Mistake #3.
Literally five seconds after I lay down he's at it again. "Burp, gurgle, gurgle". I lay there and shake my head. There's no possible way he's thrown up again. Its just not possible. As I lay there for a few seconds listening to him smack his lips I know I'm in for it again. I grab my headlamp and "OH. MY. FREAKING! SERIOUSLY?!?! SERIOUSLY?!?!" This one is bigger than the last! And of course, he couldn't have thrown up directly on the spot I just cleaned. He had to throw up one inch from the last pile creating a foot wide circumference of vomit stain. I make the trek downstairs for the cleaning supplies and start scrubbing.....again. At this point I am so frustrated that all consideration for my sleeping husband is out the window. How is he sleeping through all of this? Finally, without moving an inch, he opens one eye and asks "Everything okay?" Sigh. "Uh huh. Go back to sleep." Without any hesitation he's out cold. A little preview of what my nights will look like in the future I guess. Just kidding. Sort of. (Love you babe!) Needless to say, Albert and I spent the rest of the night on the couch so we could be close to the door in case any more "burp, gurgle, gurgle" noises were made.