The Four Types of Dog Vomit

I received this on one of the email lists that I am on. It's too good to not pass on to you!

The Four Types of Dog Vomit--author unknown

YELLOW URKA-GURKAS Dog runs around the house and hides under furniture while making aprolonged “uuuurka-guuurka, uuurka-guuurka” noise. (This noise is the only thing guaranteed to wake up a true dog lover who is hung-over from a post dog show celebration at 3:30 am.) After mad scrambling to capture the dog and drag him outside the episode ends with an indelible ten yardline of slimy yellow froth from living room rug to back door.

BLAP DISEASE Dog exercises hard and a) eats large mouthfuls of snow (Winter BlapDisease), or, b) drinks a bucket of water (Summer Blap Disease). Within 2 minutes of returning inside the dog spews out large amounts of clear slimy liquid while making a distinctive 'blap' sound and sharp percussive noise as it hits the linoleum.

GARKS Dog suddenly clears his throat with loud and dramatic 'gggaark, gggark,' noises, generally followed by prolonged 'iiikssss' and then loud satisfied smacking noises. There is nothing on the rug. Don't investigate. You don't want to know.

RALFSA propos of nothing, the dog strolls into the dining room and waits 'til the innocent dinner guests are all watching him. Then with a single deep gut-wrenching 'raaaalfff' disgorges the entire week's contents of his stomach on the dining room rug.

VARIATION: then he eats it.

In all the above events, the dog is entirely healthy and, indeed, deeply pleased with himself.

Moron

My idiot cat decided to stretch by using the curtain. She had her paw stuck to the curtain for about twenty minutes. Cats are stoopid.

The Yellow Butterfly

Almost five years ago I got a frantic phone call that I needed to come pick up a family's dog "RIGHT NOW" or they were going to "take care of her in the backyard." This is one of the not fun parts of rescue. You really get involved in things that are none of your business - like messy divorces where the dog gets put in the middle.

This dog, the Sauce, as we called her, became what is referred to as my heart dog. She was my heart and soul. We were the same person. Me in human form. The Sauce in dog form. But the same.

She was as stubborn as me. As dedicated to cheese as I am. And as religious about sleep. We fell in love. And two years later, a tumor ruptured, poisoining her body and stopping her heart. It was fast, fairly painless, and in her time. We had been told that she had six months to live and she lived nearly two years more. Stubborn in all the right ways.

When she passed away, a friend told me I'd see her again. And I said, "I know." But she said, "No. When you see a yellow butterfly, you'll think of her."

Odd. How often does one see yellow butterflies? I'm not sure I ever noticed them before. But I started looking.

I have seen yellow butterflies three times in the two years that the Sauce has been gone. The first time was the very first walk I took without her. The second time was when we adopted another dog and brought her home. I was sad that I was somehow "replacing" the Sauce. But there she was, flittering past us as I walked our new dog. She approved.

The third time was today. I was walking out of Sams Club with a 40 pound bag of dog food. The Sauce's favorite thing in the whole wide world was eating. And there was the butterfly.

I thought it was odd. But there was food. So it was possible she was saying hello. But I found out later that a friend's dog had passed away today. I think the Sauce was telling me that he was with her.

RIP Sisko!

All Day Long...

It's the same thing....

"[Insert Toddler Name], STOP MESSING WITH THE DOG!"

We have three dogs here. Two are ours and one is a foster since we volunteer for a pet rescue group (if anyone wants a very oversized lap dog and major bed hog, let me know). All the dogs are so good with kids. They adore him.

One is especially obsessed with the toddler and would sleep in bed with him if only he would permit it. He can do no wrong to her. She even lets him ride her.

The other dog that is ours has less patience. They growl at each other - the toddler and the dog. He'll mess with her, she'll growl, he'll growl back, he laughs. Now repeat.

The foster dog was raised with four children. He has this low, "I'm annoyed by you" growl which isn't even remotely serious. But it's enough to tell you to leave him alone. At least if you are a normal person.

Since the toddler and the dogs have an agreement, it wouldn't be nearly as annoying to me as it is if the dogs didn't fart every time they growl. Growl out one end, gas out the other.

So not only do we have to hear the messing by the toddler and the growling by the dogs, we get fumigated out of the room after it happens. It is extremely frustrating. But then I realized, I will always know when the toddler has been annoying the dogs by the smell of the room when I come back in.

Now if only I could get the toddler to not like the smell of dog farts. But then again, this is the kid who likes to keep his poop in his Pull-Up as long as possible.

Why I Might Be A Bad Mom...

Will Smama mentioned her son winning a fish at the church picnic. It was a lovely Beta which he named Bubbles. I had flashbacks to my son's first Beta, which was red, and after a day, he decided to name "Ahhhred." Made sense to me.

Well, after a month, Ahhhred was found floating at the top of the tank. I hurried up and flushed him. Try explaining to a 2 year old how you can flush dead fish, but you can't flush live cats. I was not prepared to have that conversation. So I flushed him and when the lad mentioned that the fish was no longer in the tank, I told him that Ahhhred was at the pet store visiting his friends. He would call us when he was ready to come home and we could go get him.

Nice one, Mommy! This gave me time to clean the tank!

So we went to the pet store a week or two after Ahhhred bit the dust. We walked past the Beta section and I asked him to find Ahhhred, since he had called us to tell us he was ready to go home. Well, he swiped another red fish in its fragile plastic bowl off the shelf and exclaimed, "I found Murray Fish!" Murray Fish it is.

Since then, Murray Fish has died a number of times. Each time, I flush him (sans lad's help) and then clean the tank. If the lad asks, Murray Fish is asleep in his castle. Then, I sneak off to the pet store when the lad is at preschool and replace Murray Fish. Whoever said Betas are hardy has not been to my house.

So am I a bad parent because I have not had the death conversation with my son? I don't think so. I have said I would never lie to my sons. But, "asleep" could mean "eternal rest," right?