Friday, February 6, 2009

This guy....

So....our dog, Duke, decided it was high time to try something new this week. Tuesday, I came home from work to find the kitchen trash can scattered all over the floor. I did my usual, "Duke, what did you do?" in my disappointed voice...he felt bad, put the ears back, looked very sorry. So I clean it up and head to the bedroom to get changed for our daily walk. I step into the bedroom and find more evidence of his shenanigans all over the bed. I take a look closer look and what I see are the remnants of 7 bones from the baby back ribs we had the night before. Thats right, he ate 7 bones! Not to mention, our white bedspread from our wedding was ruined--covered in grease, bbq sauce, and some blood from his poor gums.
So I proceed to call his "daddy" who was out of town to tell him his son's deeds. We both decided he was probably fine, dogs do this sort of thing all the time. I took Duke for the usual walk-he pooped like normal so I felt that was a good sign. I called the vet anyways just to make sure we were in the clear. Of course they tell me that I can bring him in so they can run a $300 test to see if anything is lodged in his big body or I could wait it out and see if he vomits or has diarrhea. What do you think I chose? Thats right, the see and wait option.
Duke was doing great that evening, normal behavior. We're sitting there watching The Biggest Loser and he slowly gets up from the couch and inches to the floor, where he began heaving. Up came a pile of pieces of bones. Naturally I think, ooh, this is what the vet said to watch for. I watched him for a few minutes and he seemed fine, in fact he ate his food. I'm thinking we're all good.

We go to bed only to wake up at 3:15am to his vomiting. I clean it all up let him outside to use the restroom and we go back to bed. Keep in mind, I'm a little more nervous now that he has thrown up twice. An hour later--4am--he's at it again. Poor guy. I'm getting more and more nervous at this point. I get it cleaned up and we lay back down. But I can't sleep now because all I can do is listen to his breathing and movements to make sure he is okay. I call Dusty...because now I'm wondering what to do. I just can't leave him alone all day--he's our child. (Dog people understand this!) So about 5am I make the decision to call in sick to work to take care of my dog. You would have done it too! Of course, he was FINE the rest of the day; he had gotten it all out of his system by 4 am.