Poop Fest

This was written last week but I didn't get to finish until today:

I haven't slept much for the past two days because Azuki came down with acute diarrhea. It started around 8pm in the evening, and every hour or so after that our poor pup would have to do a little watery business. She was obviously in great discomfort because in between her poop sessions, she would pace around all over the apartment---heading into our bathroom, our closet, the living room, lie down, get up, walk around some more...which meant that her tummy was probably feeling pretty aweful. But all that pooping and pacing around all night also meant that Matt and I did not get any sleep at all. Periodically she would run over to Matt's side of the bed and demand some love from her pa, which Matt, feeling sorry for the pup, would kindly oblige by hanging one arm over the side of the bed, and attempting to pet her while he tries to sleep.

My job was primarily to jump out of the bed every half an hour or so to check to see if she did poop, and to clean up and change out her potty pad if she did. This went on until 5am, when Matt had to get up and go to the airport for a "business trip" to Bermuda. This is going to be a slight digression, but I must exlain why I put business trip in "" parenthesis. It is not because I don't believe that he is really working there, or that traveling to a warm, exotic island that is only two hours away must totally suck because it takes him away from his females. But I know how much it bothers him when I say it like that with any hint that business traveling could be fun. I know for a fact that it is not, because in another life time when I used to be a "career woman" (that should be like """" career woman""") I did quite a bit of traveling myself, and it was probably the worst thing about the job, next to commuting for over an hour in the car to a client site. And the fact that I had to work like, really hard, for a living. To support myself. And do COMPUTER STUFF, that requires me to do more than just surf the web.

Anyhoo, so Matt left for the airport completely exhausted, while I took the pup to the vet promptly in the morning. I was given the lovely job of collecting a sample of her poop, in these glass vails that came with a spoon (does make things easier, let me tell you). Well, the pup didn't poop for the rest of the day, probably because she had absolutely exhausted every smidgen of waste in her intestines, and thus I had to wait for the next morning to do what I had to do. The next morning at 5am, I was again awoken by a pup who was now puking up a storm, her body convulsing as her entire body contracts and regurgitates stomach bile. Good thing that after a few times of doing that she went back to sleep and eventually she was back to her happy little self going through our trash canes, thrashing her toys around, and chasing squirrels outside.

Possibly due to the lack of sleep for two days I caught a cold myself, and spent much of the weekend in bed with congestion and fever. Matt, back from his brief "business trip", was kind enought to make me his special chicken soup (it's really good!) and take care of the pup, taking her to the park twice a day. During this father and pup bonding weekend they even napped together on the couch! I didn't get a picture of this (because I was sleeping and running a fever!) but I could just imagine how cute that must have been--master and dog, enjoying a lazy weekend afternoon siesta. As how life should be.