Sometimes I am a fast learner, other times I am not, but I do try.
I had learnt very quickly that I am not to do my toilet business inside the house – took about two weeks after I arrived at my forever home. In the first days, I used to dutifully empty my bowels in the hallway right after I had breakfast … much to Mummy’s dismay. I didn’t know better but I soon learnt that she didn’t want me to do that. I guess Darcy showed me too.
I still have a few things to perfect. I know my name but I do not necessarily do recall every time – not when I am distracted, I chose not to listen. I am a little stubborn like that. Can you blame me? But one thing I have learnt is when I can’t see Mummy means I am lost. So I go in search for her in familiar places. It took me about three years to realise I belong to Mummy and Darcy – and I need to find them.
But when I am not well, if I have an upset tummy in the middle of the night, I know this much – to jump off the bed. Unlike Darcy who always went straight to the bathroom and dutifully jumped into the bathtub, I released myself – on the carpet. Sometimes I made it to the hallway. That, it seemed, still wasn’t good enough for Mummy. I haven’t figured out yet what I should do.
When I get sick in the night, I become consumed in the act. I can’t even think to jump off the bed. I start to retch while still on the bed. When Mummy is half-conscious and hears my retching, she would sit up abruptly in trying to rush me to the bathroom but her sudden movement always made me run away. I would jump off the bed, run into the study and project on the wooden floors – which was better than on the bed, or worse, on the hallway runner.
Two nights ago, I think I must have had a bug – like Jaffa did. I deposited a pile of regurgitation on the bed spread in the middle of the night. Mummy didn’t hear me retching but she is almost always attuned to what we’re doing even when she’s asleep. She opened her eyes just after I had done the deed, and on seeing my silhouette – standing on all fours at the end of the bed, she feared the worst. She fumbled with the light switch and when the light came on, sure enough she saw a pile of soft brown sick on the covers. She groaned, “Oh, George!” Yes, she was very annoyed with me.
The next night, Mummy was on the alert. The minute I sat up in bed, she sat up too. I waited and waited for the projection but it didn’t happen. Mummy took me to the bathroom but I wasn’t ready. We went back to bed. But I didn’t settle, and Mummy thought she would be ready and held two Kleenexes in her hand. And then it started. As I retched, Mummy put the tissues to my muzzle, grabbed me and ran to the bathroom. The tissues were completely soaked by the time she ran out of the bedroom. Her hand cupping the bile-covered tissue as it began to drip, she threw them straight into the toilet while dropping me to the floor. And there was more to come. I faced a corner and let it all out. Mummy was already lathering up her hands with soap, getting rid of the stench. However, the consequence of that act smeared the bile all over my muzzle! All of the next day I was pongy, even after a wash with a fragrant shampoo, it didn’t go away. She had to take me to have a proper wash!
Well, I supposed there was one good thing that came out of it. I might have just been clued in on what I needed to do. This morning when Mummy had a lie-in, way past our usual breakfast time, I started to feel sick. I jumped off the bed and ran to the bathroom. There behind the door – I aimed at the doorstop and deposited the bile.But when I heard Mummy calling my name, I ran to hide in shame – having committed a crime. Some bile was caught in my beard and I dripped all the way to the living room – but they were only small drops.
I was afraid – did I do the right thing? She came to get me an told me I was a good boy. She didn’t scold me. I think she was pleased.
And then we had breakfast but I still felt bad for having done so.
May’s comment: Little George, the once upon a time street dog is the most sensitive to any bugs, stress and has a high metabolism rate. Though weighing at 5.5 kg, he eats the same amount as Darcy does and she weighs 10 kg. While she is perfect in weight, he seems a little on the thin side!!!
After a crazed week of running around with projects, even on Saturday I had a meeting to go to, Sunday was the only day I could have a lie-in. But alas, George’s empty stomach (he also pooed on our last walk) – meant he started to get sick. When I am in bed and awake to discover one dog is missing, it is either they are having a sulk and decided to take themselves to sleep next door (seldom) or they are sick. When Darcy isn’t in bed, I know immediately she’s in the bathtub. She takes herself there every time. She learnt it since she was about 18 months old. Let’s say she’s very observant. 🙂
George knows how to get off the bed if he needed to poo but not out of the room. When he barfs, he loses all sense of himself and just do what he has to do – a lot of times on the bed. He did this three days in a row on the ferry when we were travelling. At home, sometimes he made it to the study – I have since removed the cowhide rug so it’s wooden floorboards that he puke on. Other times he did it on the hallway runner. But for the first time, this morning he ran to the bathroom and was sick with bile. Then he ran to hide in shame in the living room as he heard me coming. I had to coax him to come to me. I carried him to the bathroom and told him he was a good boy. I hope he understood what I was trying to tell him. But was so proud of him. We are one step closer to him doing it right.But he went and curled up in the study – almost as if he was ashamed of what he had done.
The funny thing is whenever he does something wrong, Darcy runs and hide too – as if to say – uh-oh! There’s trouble!
And ahem, no lie-ins!