Dogs Rule And Cats Drool? Today I Am On The Cats' Side

The dog. THE DOG! The furry creature who spends half his time stealing shoes out of the basket near the front door and making a bolt for the backyard and the other half trying to scam Scooby Snacks, decided to be sick last night. And when I say night, I mean ALL night.

I have not seen a sunrise since, I don't know, 2002 when Moo stopped waking at night. I did, however, break that record last night...

He started up at 2am (before I'd gone to bed - don't judge me! I got my just desserts, believe you me!) when he wouldn't go to bed. We're mean and shut him in the laundry room overnight - it's that or feet in wayward wee puddles in the kitchen first thing and I think I'd have a breakdown if that happened so into the laundry he goes. But he wouldn't bed down. He scratched grooves into the laundry door in an effort to extricate himself.

This went on for an hour. I naively thought each little outburst would be his last but alas, IT WAS NOT and I eventually got up, grumbling. I hadn't slept anyway but with Talented Hubby making annoyed sleepy noises in the bed next to me - he had to rise at 5:30 am for work - I took the high road. What followed is a nightmare only akin to the newborn stage. I'd forgotten what it's like to be so bone-crushingly exhausted and yet this needy, squawking thing continues to thwart your plans for sweet slumber.

Over the next several HOURS Charlie vomited the gross doggy-vomit (if you're a pet owner, you get what I mean...) every hour or so. In between, he'd scratch, chew and claw his way around the family room, making sure I never fully went to sleep from my position on the couch. When he started making awkward choking sounds I knew the inevitable was going to happen so I'd get up, get some paper towels, clean up, and return to the couch. The cycle would start again.

At 5:30 or so he finally started to settle down and my eyes closed. At approximately 5:33, Talented Hubby gently shook me awake before returning to the ensuite to shower up. At 6:00 I wrote notes explaining the night I'd had on about seventeen Post-Its in which I also threatened the children with the pain of a smashed computer if they woke me before 9am. Then I went to bed.

The kids were fairly good. TH had left for work at 6:30 after first feeding our 'dawn o'clock' child (Jay) but the others were getting (rightly) hungry by nine so with MUCH coaxing, I made it out to the kitchen.

I feel ROTTEN.

The dog, however, has SLEPT THE ENTIRE DAY. Thankfully he appears to have suffered no ill effects but it did take me until 1pm this afternoon to be able to look at him without wanting to take him to the pound (I'm kidding...he's here to stay...sigh).

Tell me again why we agreed to a fur-kid?