So last night was fun.
I had been home from work for about an hour, and was watching Sabrina Goes To Rome, which is totally awesome and has lots of sparkly magic and lulz and talking animals, when I heard Gabriel and Ma shrieking.
Gabriel was yelling, “Monty! No! NO no no no no no! NO! Ughhhh Monty!” while mum was trying not to laugh but failing miserably. I ran out of my room, arms waving crazily, saying “What? What’s going on? What did he do? Where’s my baby?”.
Ma was still laughing, and informed me that Monty had vomited on the rug in the hall. My poor baby dog was sick. She locked him outside on the deck, where he stared at me forlornly. Gabriel had already run off so she didn’t have to clean up the massive brown and white, shit shaped vomit.
Ma instructed me to get some toilet paper and start cleaning. I sighed and shuffled to the toilet, grabbed a wad of paper and went back to the vomit. I stood over it gagging for a few minutes, while Ma laughed at me and told me to hurry up and stop being a pussy. After delivering a few death stares to Ma, I grabbed a chunk of the vomit and ran to the toilet to drop it in.
Ma stood around watching me, and yelling instructions. “Get more toilet paper. No, that’s not enough. Oh, that’s probably too much. Rub it around for a while. Okay, that’s enough! Now get the disinfectant wipes.”
In between gagging, death staring and general whining, I managed to get the vomit cleaned up. Then I rushed out to rescue my baby dog from the back deck. He was still feeling ill because he just curled up on my bed and slept, when usually he’s running around the house like a maniac with a ball or rope in his mouth and running into walls.
He seemed okay at about nine o’clock, so I decided to go to bed. Yeah, yeah I know I go to bed early.
Fast forward to 3am and I was having a delightful dream about people from Twitter (shut up, I totally have a life. Asshole), when I was woken up by a gluggy retching noise. I knew Monty was about to vomit again, so I tried to turn the lamp on and move him off the bed before he did. I failed. I was smashing my hand on the bedside table, hitting everything but the lamp when I heard Monty hurl.
I was repeatedly yelling fuck and getting incredibly frustrated when I finally found the stupid ass lamp (which is the biggest thing on the bedside table). When I could actually see, Monty had his tail between his legs and was shaking in front of a slimy puddle of vomit on the side of my bed.
I got up to look at it from the other side, and it had dripped down the mattress onto the floor, where a bigger pile of vomit was. The poor little guy had tried to vomit onto the floor instead of the bed. He’s so considerate. I did the gagging, whining, cleaning thing again and grabbed a towel that I could throw over the vomit stain so I didn’t have to strip my sheets until the morning. I was half asleep, okay?! Fuck that. Monty came and curled up on my pillow and we went back to sleep.
An hour later it was on again. I woke up earlier this time, but still couldn’t find the lamp so Monty had vomited again before I could move him onto the floor. I cleaned up the vomit the best I could and threw the towel over both of the stains and went back to bed.
I got another hour of sleep before mum came barging in, and told me to get up. I tried telling her about the events of the night before but she thought I was asking her to let me sleep for longer.
“Monty was sick twice again last night.”
“No, get up now Saam. It’s ten past five.”
“Ughhhh. No, I said Monty was sick again last night.”
Finally mum got what I was saying. Monty hadn’t bothered moving which worried me, as he is usually out the door and jumping on Ma’s legs as soon as a light turns on. She called his name and he slowly got up and jumped off the bed to greet her, then started perking up.
As I left for work an hour later, he was back to normal. Gabriel promised to keep an eye on him today, and if he’s sick again he’ll be off to the vet. Honestly, that dog...
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