Breakfast In Bed
Our new dog, Sammy, likes to sleep in bed with us. That’s usually not a problem. Usually. This morning: problem. Gross problem.
Sometime in the night last night, Sammy puked in our bed, right up at head level. And while that might sound disgusting, it’s disgusting on a level above and beyond the disgustingly gross grossness of waking up to a face full of dog puke. Because it wasn’t just random dog puke — it was kitty-litter-snackin’ cat poop dog puke.
Gooooooooood morning!
I’m sorry… I know it makes me a bad person… but I let out a big belly laugh when I read this.
Years ago our dear older cat had to be sequestered to keep her from killing younger daughter’s new kitten. Occasionally we had to let the kitten out from where _she_ was sequestered, just to give the little thing some exercise and the two had to be kept quite separate. I thought that the older cat would be happiest in my room since she was my cat. Ha! She decided that since I put her there, and she was pissed off, that . . .
I found out when I went to bed, and lay down on a soaking wet pillow. Late at night. And my husband was away on a business trip.
I sympathize. Deeply.