Yesterday, I let the dog eat the last little bit of cat food that had been spread out on the counter and a half an hour later, he puked in the living room and twice in his bed. He may have puked some more outside, but he also ate a bunch of grass, came in the house, and threw that up. And he had the hiccups!
I don’t know if it was the cat food or if it was just the weekend full of kids overstuffing him with treats and him getting into the garbage or what but he was not well. The thing about him, though, is that it’s really tough to tell how bad he might feel, because he’s just such a happy-go-lucky dog. He kept his dinner down, mostly. The Butcher found a little puke this morning, but nothing like the mounds from yesterday. And now he’s curled up on the couch around his bone, snoring away, so I hope we’re past the worst of it.
But we had a disconcertingly nice walk this morning, because he wasn’t pulling on me at all. That was the only clue I had that he was still feeling puny. Otherwise, he gave the hill a good wiggle down and he pooped, so everything is moving through him, which I take as a good sign.
So, I don’t know. I worry. But he seems to be on the mend.