Dear Goddamned Beagle,
Whatever you ate, it seems this time you’ve been bested.
Far from your usual “one bad burp and we’re good” resolution to unwise noshing, you started off yesterday, my birthday, by getting sick at 5:00 am. Since then yucky, bloody, emergency potty runs, greasy, sick-dog fur, and, last night, an entire second or two before you noticed someone’s ice cream bowl on the floor have made it clear that this is not a one-burp kind of food hangover. I must commend you on running to the basement when your unfortunate bathroom emergencies occurred between times I let you out. It was nice to not have that take place near the living spaces. If you don’t mind me asking, how long have you known how to open the basement door?
You’ve even taken several long naps on my lap, clearly needing some… I was going to say Repentance Cuddling, but there is no repentance here. Just the practical understanding of the value of a good lap and blanket in front of the fire when feeling sickly.
Flagyl, boiled chicken and rice will be your medicine for the next few days. I realize this is reinforcing whatever you did with better-than-usual meals, but I have no choice.
Your vet asked once again if you could have eaten anything, and once again I laughed and said, “Of course.” Why, just three days ago on the way back from his office you were sniffing a few leaves beside a stone wall and came up chewing. I swear there was nothing there – these days I look pretty carefully at things I’d have never even considered looking at before you came along – yet you were chewing. You also shot me a look that proclaimed, “Yes, I’m chewing and you can’t have it.” Again, I really never want what you’re eating, Beagz. I’m just interested in sparing you days like this, and me the sanitizing, housekeeping and financial cost of them.
You’ll have to wait a few days until your next sidewalk buffet I’m afraid. For today you’re yard- and couch-bound. Why, you can barely yell at passing dogs today without looking exhausted. Their glances back through the window show far less respect for your powers than usual.
Rest up, Beagle.