treasure

Part One

I am awakened at three this morning by the sounds of my sweet little puppy vomitting all over our bed. I quickly scoop my beloved dog up and take him outside where I find that vomitting isn't the only thing he has to do. This little bout goes on for a solid twenty minuets.

Part Two

Histarics! That is the only emotion I can feel. Our neighbours just had to put their puppy down due to a similar attack. My husband finally calms me enough to call the emergency vet and off we go.

Part Three

Asshole dog. I told the nurse on the phone my dog was basically dying. "He's vomitting his guts out!" Is what I said. Now the little turd is bouncing off the wall, wagging that little stub he calls a tail. Bouncing that is until the time came to take his temperature....rectally. He squirms and growls (growling from a yorkie is quite comical). And then the tip of the thermometer penetrates his 'danger zone'. "YIPE YIPE YIPE!" What a pussy. He jumps straight into my arms, tail tucked so tight it seemed to have dissapeared.

Part Four

Rectal exam. Enough said. They took my little asshole into the 'back room of DOOM!' and noises came from my dog that I never knew an animal could make. When he returns, he gives me a look of absolute betrayal.

"How could you have let them do that to me bitch!" That's what he would have said.

Part Five

Negative. My little exocist dog is negative for everything.

"Here's some <insert highly expensive sounding medication here>" The nurse tells me in her most 'why-the-fuck-did-you-wake-us-up-voice'.

$230 dollars later the dog is now fine. Did we even need to go? I'll never know. All I do know is that this little prick decided to get sick at the worst time. You see my husband is a Marine and there is a vet on base. A free vet. Free. But no, we have to get sick in the middle of the night on a holiday weekend. Thank you Chewbacca.


Who could say no to this face?

~Treasure~