Just after I tell how to live with 8 dogs, my son is offering to buy a gun and start shooting them, starting with the little one. I know he is joking. The dogs seem to be passing an intestinal virus around. Penny, the older Boston Terrier, barfed on my son and DIL’s bed the other day. The little one, Hamburger, was vomiting yesterday and last night. I got up this morning and found vomit in the pen where she slept. The Boston’s were exiled to the dog bedroom after the first vomit on the bed. When I saw the runny bowel movement on the floor, I dropped my papertowels and knocked on the Master bedroom door. “She is your dog and I can’t handle all of this shit” was what I woke them with.
My son had his t-shirt up over his nose like a mask when I left to return to my room. Shortly after that he called me on the intercom to find out the location of our latex gloves. It seems one of the dogs had been pooping in a blanket on the floor and covering it like a cat. I couldn’t help but laugh. I quit laughing when I found a laundry basket containing the poopy blankets.
Well another of the dogs has started vomiting. Here we go again.
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