Faith ate something on Sunday, or maybe Saturday, or maybe Friday that has made her stomach, and the contents thereof, a living hell. (What does a dead hell look like, I do wonder?) The air has been noxious, our sleep schedules disturbed, my work schedule not so hot.
The upside of dogs is also their downside. They cannot talk, so when they are well, you can project just about anything onto them. And when they are not well, they cannot talk, and so you must guess, based on, well, what's coming out of them. Something came out of her yesterday that didn't look good. So I scooped it up after staring at it for a good long while, and walked over to the vet, who assured me that it was likely, nothing. We will know today.
I trudged home, wondering when I'm going to write my new section on dry vs. wet cat food, and knowing I'm too tired to go to my beloved book group, where I had dearly wanted to discuss The Kite Runner.
Faith trotted home happily (or so I project). So happy--she scarfed a cheese doodle!
posted by Martha @ 9:13 AM
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