When I gotta wee, I go and lik mummy on the hand, if she is sitting on the couch. Daddy doesn’t always get it if i do it to him, but mummy does. So, last night my tummy wasn’t feeling well (I had thowed up earlier in the day) and I went and licked mummy’s face. She looked at the clock, said it was 3am and turned around. I don’t know why she didn’t get it. I really had to go. So I left. I try to hold it when I can’t go out and I’m really good at this. But finally I just couldn’t deal with it any longer. So I barked and barked. Something was going to come out whether I liked it or not. Mummy came down, cursing a bit under her breath. She told me she was a bit nervous as I was hovering around the back door. Did it mean someone was trying to break in? No, mummy, i just wanna go out. She let me out and I went immediately to the back and poo’d. It was not a nice poo. It was icky. Yuck. Mummy didn’t seem too happy about it either, though she did tell me I had been a good boy for letting her know I had the squirts.
I’m dealing with this still in the morning. Sigh. I went for a walkie with mum and when we got back I went to the back door again. I couldn’t help it. I had to go. Icky again. Mummy said that she’ll hang out with me for a while this morning just in case I have to go again before my dog walker comes. She has to go into work for a few things, but she can miss the morning. She lurves me lots. I think I’ll go have a lie down now. I don’t have much energy. Bye.
1 Comment so far
Leave a comment
Found your website by chance when our labradoodle was sick last weekend … and couldn’t resist a reply!
Hi Barney
Comment by Ali October 19, 2011 @ 9:17 amMy name’s Murphy and I’m a black doodle just like you. Hey, maybe we’re cousins or something!
I got sick last weekend. I was really poorly and my tummy felt all lumpy inside, and I was squirty in the garden. My hoomans didn’t feed me from Saturday breakfast till Sunday dinner – that was 3 meals I missed. SSOOOO long! I get hungry lots so I sniffed the kitchen bin but the hoomans shooed me away and said “No!” in a big loud voice.
I was still squirty on Monday and instead of breakfast Mum took me to the V-E-T. I knew it wasn’t good cos she spelt it out like she thinks I don’t know what she means. I know lots of words really and I can even speak French (OK, just kidding) so anyway she lifted me into the back of the car cos I just couldn’t manage it on my own and she moaned a bit cos I’m getting real big now and off we went. She was even trying to drive slow cos I wasn’t feeling great so that was good.
When we got there, she opened up the tailgate and I was feeling a bit better so I jumped out. Then I realised where we were so I jumped back in again and she had to lift me again, out this time. She said “oof!” bit like I do, but no “w” in front.
The girls at the V-E-Ts are always smiley and friendly but I just wanted to be at home in my bed really so I wasn’t very waggytail with them. But I did get lots of aaaaah strokes. Till I flopped under the chairs and Mummy couldn’t get me out so she and the N-U-R-S-E had to stack the chairs back until there I was, stretched out.
I let them drag me a bit on the slippy floor into the bright room with the shut door and the N-U-R-S-E felt my tummy and had to go and ask another hooman what he thought about me. When she came back, I hid behind the door near Mummy and the N-U-R-S-E dug a big pin in me which made me ow. I’m not going again. Never ever. Even when they give me a biscuit.
The N-U-R-S-E gave Mummy a special bag to take home, with red buttons in. I quite like buttons, especially the ones on Daddy’s shirts, but Mummy hid these inside some chicken for my dinner. For a game, she said. The chicken was yum but I spat the buttons out. These buttons were yucky. I don’t usually have buttons in my dinner bowl. Dunno why she did that. Then I had cheese with bits in but that was OK. I like cheese.
Anyway, that was lots of sleeps ago and I’m all better now doing proper ones not squirty ones but I don’t know where those buttons went. I can’t find them anywhere.
Love
Murphy