It has been HARD getting back into the swing of the things. The tree and decorations are down. The parties are over. And back to real work weeks. Blahhhhh. Oh, well... At least I get bank holidays. Martin Luther King Day is peeking right around the corner.
On a different note, had our first sick puppy incident. While Andrew was at the Cotton Bowl, Sugarbear bleched 3 times. I just thought she'd eaten too fast. I told her to slow down on the water. But did she listen? NO. The next noise I heard was... Unpleasant to say the least. But Saturday she seemed to be better. Until 4am on Sunday night (technically Monday morning).
I'm going to spare you the rest of the details.
You're welcome.
So Andrew took Sugarbear to the vet.
Side story: When we were kids, my sister, Beth, and I had gotten this brother/sister set of doggies. We named them Honey & Morgan and we loved them. (Morgan was mine. Named after Anne of Avonlea's love interest, Morgan Harris. You'd think be more of the Gilbert Blythe-type, wouldn't you? Well, Gilbert is a stupid name for a dog. And he was poor. So there.) Anyhoo, then they both got REALLY sick. One made it and one didn't.
So when Sugarbear got sick, all I could think about was those poor doggies. And maybe she'd eaten deer goop at my parents' house. And now she was going to come down with some deer-dog disease.
Crying.
Hugging the dog.
Treasuring each moment like it might be the last.
But the dog turned out to be fine.
They think it might be her digesting too much stuffing from her toys.
A.) My hypochondria carries over to my animals and B.) I'm going to appreciate things more.
It's so easy to be critical. And easily irritated, especially for me. Then one day your puppy gets a little pukey and you really start to think about how quickly things can change.
Man. I love that dog.
So love your pets (and people), Internet. And when you're falling asleep, and someone puts their sleepy head on your chest, don't forget to take a picture.
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