I woke this morn to the sound of heaving
"Please not on the bed," I lay there pleading
Detected a scent rather like poo
Ain't it funny how the tummy moves
Always when you have sleep to lose
Strange how Charlie's tummy moves



(extra points if you can figure out the tune this is supposed to accompany.)

It's 5:38 right now, and I've been up almost an hour. I didn't intend to be, I was sleeping well for the first time in several nights.

I was still on the pull-out bed in the front room, and in front of the open door last night. The temp broke a little; it actually got down to 69 degrees. Comfortable.

But then, that sound. That gagging, barfing sound that only dogs can make.

Right on the corner of the bed. Where I was sleeping.

Gross.

(And as an aside? He just lost his cookies again, this time on the bathroom floor, which as far as cleaning up, is the best choice. Still, I just took care of that).

I jumped up, and grabbed the sheet, folding it in on itself, hoping I contained the mess before it soaked through to the mattress/cushion. Which I did. Until I didn't. So yeah, a pile of it dropped back onto the pristine white of the underside of my couch. Yech.

The cleaning commenced, and upon investigation, it appears the wonder dog first regurgitated his dinner in the bedroom, ate it back up and repeated his performance for me on the bed. So, Big stain in the bedroom, one on the couch cushion and a small one on the carpet under the couch (overflow). At least the bathroom is already cleaned up.

Why does this always happen when I can't call the vet?

Poor little guy, I know he's feeling crummy.

And now, for those of you still with me... a little known fact. Horses can't throw up. If they do, it's through their noses, and it's a "terminal event." Meaning they die. Wow. Good thing to remember if Trigger or Mr. Ed want to tie one on Saturday night.