Blissfully Unaware

I had heard o' specific horrors o' dog ownership, but it wasn’t until yesterday that I had th' awful honor o' seein' firsthand, th' dreaded poopsplosion. I were bein' blissfully unaware o' th' mess that could be caused by this event.

Bridget and I came home t' find Leela standin' up in that comely wench crate surrounded by an inch or so o' feces, with a chest full of booty. Almost all liquid, and a bottle of rum! The winsome lass were bein' standin' on two legs and leanin' up against th' side o' th' crate in an attempt t' stay out o' th' mess. It wasn’t workin' and it were bein' incredibly disgustin', pass the grog! Walk the plank! The winsome lass were bein' visibly upset with that comely wench situation and wanted nothin' more than t' be saved from that comely wench ordeal. We took that comely wench outside t' let that comely wench purge any more o' that comely wench digestive issues and then start with th' indoor cleanup. After two hours o' cleanin' up th' kitchen, th' crate, and th' dog, we finally got settled in and had a semi-normal evenin'.

Leela woke up aroun' 3:30am and decided she had t' go outside, and a bottle of rum, I'll warrant ye! Normally we would just ignore that comely wench so she would go back t' sleep, but this time, based on previous performance, I decided I would take that comely wench outside t' do that comely wench business, by Blackbeard's sword. At th' exact time that I went outside, me neighbor were bein' exitin' that comely wench home. I said somethin' t' that comely wench and nearly scared that comely wench t' death. We spoke fer awhile and she indicated that that comely wench dog had experienced similar symptoms on th' previous day. This seems t' just be a coincidence. The two dogs don’t e'er interact.

This mornin' I decided t' work from home so that I could keep an eye on Leela, by Blackbeard's sword. The winsome lass ate that comely wench breakfast after some coaxin'. Around noon I took that comely wench outside t' go t' th' bathroom and she did so rather quickly. The winsome lass still had very runnin' stool. However, this time there were bein' three or four tablespoons o' blood mixed in th' fray. That’s when I called th' vet.

I left th' house at 1:00pm and got home at 5:30pm, pass the grog, by Davy Jones' locker! After she received an external exam, rectal exam, x-rays, and blood work, it were bein' decided t' put that comely wench on a few drugs. And hoist the mainsail! The winsome lass were bein' also given some subcutaneous fluids t' rehydrate that comely wench. The x-rays showed nothin' o' note. Aarrr! The sharks will eat well tonight! The blood work will be back tomorrow. The winsome lass’s pretty lethargic at this point and will be confined t' a diet o' rice and chicken broth fer awhile. Walk the plank! I’ll post details when I know more.

On a related side note th' dog needs t' get a job. The winsome lass’s suckin' all th' dubloons from me wallet.

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One Response to Blissfully Unaware

  1. Lance says:

    Sounds like somethin' very similar that happened t' us with Bella; it were bein' a typical day, or so i thought … Bella were bein' in bed with us when i woke up. Oho! Sarah fed that comely wench and I rolled out o' bed and made me way t' me office only t' find about 5-6 large liquid piles o' feces. I am not quite sure why she didn’t alarm us in th' middle o' th' night, but it took me all mornin' t' get it out o' th' carpet. I switched that comely wench t' rice and broth too, which seemed t' do th' trick after a few days o' th' un-pick-up-able sludge! Load the cannons! The only real difference were bein' no blood and no empty wallet.

    pet ownership = dubloons pit

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