The Best Laid Plans

It’s Saturday morning and I’m currently blogging from my couch which is not where I was supposed to be this morning. I was supposed to be cheering Marty on at his triathlon and providing my professional amateur photography skills.

Instead, I’m sitting next to this (sick) squish.

Cute, even when sick.

Cute, even when sick.

I had a group conference call/assignment for class last night (I know, on a Friday night) and a 4:30 a.m. wakeup call. I managed to get in bed by 9:45 and fell asleep at…11 p.m. And was then awake at 4:10 a.m. I gave in, got up and came downstairs to the distinct smell of poop.

For the first time since she was 10 weeks old, Lucy crapped in the house. I took her outside where she proceeded to have projectile diarrhea. Honest to goodness, first time I’ve ever seen that.

Not feeling well at all.

Not feeling well at all.

I quickly cooked up some bouillon and rice (my go-to for upset doggie tummies) to see how she’d handle it. Not well because a few minutes later I was cleaning up puke. My travel to the race was a no-go. šŸ˜¦

Lucy had a hard time keeping down just bouillon but a half hour ago managed to keep down a teeny tiny scoop of rice so I’m crossing my fingers it continues to stay down. I hate when she’s sick and I hate that I couldn’t be at Marty’s race but there just wasn’t any way I felt comfortable leaving Lucy alone.

I adore having a dog, especially one as cute and fun as Lucy, but man, dog ownership is stressful and on days like this, it’s also really, really disgusting.

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