Well, yesterday we got an errand out of the way and returned home, intending to grab a couple of items, walk the dog and go grab a bite to eat.
Um. Yes. About the dog. The elderly, stressed by the boxes and confusion dog.
The dog I put into his crate before we left to run the errand because he's stressed and clingy and crate=den=good in dog tribe parlance.
The dog who apparently had soothed himself at some point yesterday by eating a wodge of my LUSH brand handmade soap.
I will leave the details to your entirely too vivid imaginations, but suffice it to say by the time we had cleaned things up and reassured the unhappy dog neither of us felt up to going out to eat.
So the dog, he got no supper last night and I got no sleep as someone needed to be within earshot in the event of further disaster. The dog he got Peptobismol, but Do. Not. Want. So he got cuddled and apologised to and then had a tricksy mean TwoLegs shove a baby medication syringe in his mouth and force the issue.
And the dog, he got no breakfast. And more Pepto. And he was very sad. Plus, the boxes and the confusion are still around.
This evening, since symptoms had been under control for almost 24 hours, the dog he got plain cooked white rice. Jest a leetle bit, you know, and some careful watching. And then-
And then the dog he got plain cooked white rice and canned PUMPKIN. Which dogs thought was pretty damn fine.
He's mostly back to normal, and the bland diet will continue for a few days just in case.
But, CANNED PUMPKIN, yay, says the dog. Tomorrow there will be rice and pumpkin and some plain canned chicken. He will think he's in heaven. Despite the boxes and the confusion and stuff.