Hey, does anybody remember me mentioning how adorable the dogs were in their garden foraging for cherry tomatoes? Well, suffice it to say that several bouts of explosive diarrhea later, their backyard shenanigans are, in retrospect, decidedly less adorable. The worst appears to be over and their stomachs have settled although is evidently still a bit queasy. The other night, I was sitting in bed reading, surrounded by the dogs, when, all of a sudden, Lulu started dry-heaving. Hunh! Hunh! Hunh! I scrambled up and looked around for the nearest impromptu barf-catcher. Rather than sacrifice my hardcover copy of Jeffrey Ford’s The Shadow Year (the only time within reach), I went with my only other option: my cupped hands.
If that wasn’t bad enough, Jelly was acting strange all night – shifting, pacing, barking at invisible threats. Something was up but I had not idea what. Unlike gorillas who make the perfect pets because their limited knowledge of sign language allows them to convey exactly what is bothering them at all times (ie. “My tooth hurts”, “You’re hogging the blanket”, “Tonight’s episode of House made me sad”), dogs are hard to read – especially when they’re in distress. A subsequent visit to the vet turned up nothing wrong with her and she’s been back to her usual, lazy self since. So, when all is said and done, I’m guessing it was either something she ate or a ghost.
And now I’m feeling under the weather – run down, congested, coughing. In my case, I seriously doubt it was something I ate or a ghost. Well, not something I ate anyway. My money’s on whatever bug it was that Fondy brought back with her from her latest trip. Fortunately, she is feeling much better, thank you – well enough to be heading off tomorrow for a weekend seminar, leaving me to fend for myself. Fortunately, the dogs and I have enough bottled water and dog food to last us until her return.
While she’s away, I’ll be catching up on my reading (presently finishing up Fast Forward 2, edited by our friend Lou Anders), writing (my fourth pilot), ruminating (on the SGA movie and a super, secret project), viewing (just started the fifth and final season of The Wire), and worrying (looks like our dog nanny will be unavailable for the Christmas holidays which puts us in a bit of a bind).
Seriously, I must be coming down with something. Right now, I’m feeling incredibly queasy, this despite the excellent platter of sizzling sissig (chopped pig ears) I had for dinner. What gives?