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Saturday, July 13, 2013

Sick as a Dog- I thought these days were over!


“Did you and Scotto have a fight last night or sumpin, Mum?” enquired my nonchalant twenty year old son, Hagar, this morning in the kitchen.

“No… why?” I replied squinting at him, bloodshot and bleary-eyed.

“Why’d he sleep on the couch then?” he continued.

“Because Pablo is sick,” I croaked, “and he kept us up all night so Scotto brought him downstairs.”

We had been startled from our slumber on Thursday night by the sound of Pablo heaving and retching. Acting out of natural instinct and a decade of managing barfing children in my bed at night, I scooped him up with military precision and allowed him to chuck his guts up on the bathroom tiles.

Since then, alarming amounts of disagreeable fluid have been squirted from both his ends and last night at three o’clock in the morning he was so restless Scotto put him in the bathroom. After a while the sound of his determined, undersized body launching itself at the bathroom door in protest became too much to bear and Scotto carried him downstairs away from the carpeted areas and attempted to get a wink of sleep before his golf game this morning.

If he’s not better by tomorrow I’ll take him to the Vet but I’m using the exact same verification factors I used with the kids when determining whether or not they needed professional attention.

Does he still have energy?

Yes he does. This is what I discovered after I left him in the bathroom (with newspaper neatly laid out on the floor in case of poo spurts) for one hour.





Is he still eating and drinking? Yes, a bit of boiled rice and water to bind his little bottom.
Is he still responsive? Yes… and judging by the attention he’s getting I think he may be secretly milking his doggy day in the sun.

                                Kisses from Dad.


                                               
                                         Cootchy-Coo from Mama


What we really don't want is for our German Shepherd, Borat, to catch Pablo's gastro bug! I can only begin to imagine that!


Pablo the Chihuahua