Don't let that adorable mug fool you. I'm telling you that thing has backed one out every day, even multiple times a day for the last week or more. Can someone tell me what is up with a dog that is sick who makes himself sicker by eating his own shit?
Let me explain. It started the Monday before last. I got a text from Ty that said Fred had pooped in the house. Tyrone had just stopped by on his lunch break so I told him to leave it and I would clean it up when I got home. It was sort of my fault anyways. But when I got home there wasn't any poo to be found, so I thought maybe Tyrone ended up cleaning it. Later when Tyrone got home he asked me if I cleaned it up. I said no because I didn't find any so he showed me where he had left it and we could only guess that he ate it. The thing is I could smell it when I got home but I could smell it like every where in the house not just in one room. I thought it must have been bad since it was lingering so long.
If you're ready to bow out of here at this point in the story I don't blame you.
I leaned down and looked at Fred and asked him what he had done with it because I was certain this was going to be the time that he finally answers me back in English. I imagine his voice sounding a bit like Chris Kattan in Corky Ramano. You know when him and the German shepherd both get their faces covered in coke and his eyes are bugging out of his head and he is talking 90 miles an hour in front a group of kids? "Question? You got a question? Question? No. Yes. Question?" (haha so funny) Yep. Just like that. I see that face every time Frederick is happily jumping at my feet and dropping a stick or ball or dead bird wanting to play fetch for the 532 time in a total of about 10 minutes. He's persistent. Or maybe just always on coke? Hmmm. In our neighborhood I wouldn't be surprised if he had a dealer.
Now before I get into how smart of a career move that would be for dealers to expand their business to dogs and cats (because that is where my mind is going right now) I'll stop myself.
I waited for him to answer me but all I got was the precious back-and-forth head nod that he does when he pretends to understand what we say to him. As he followed me around the house the smell continued to linger. I sat down on the couch and Fred jumped up next to me and burped. OMFG! The smell that came out was awful. With the shit burps and all it was more than evident he did eat it.
It's been over a week since that day, another weekend of family members (brothers bday party) feeding him garbage and he is still sick. We do not feed Frederick a lot of "people" food. Every now and then he gets a treat but most of the time we do not let him do this no matter how much he begs. It depends on what it is. We don't treat him like a garbage disposal and let him eat our leftovers. As fine as this is for some dogs and their owners it doesn't work out for us because we know how sensitive his stomach is. Hence the diarrhea and our house inevitably being covered in shit and or vomit.
That has been the case all week long, no matter how much oatmeal he eats (Which usually helps - that and rice but he won't eat the rice any more. I think he's on to us.) It has also resulted in him going back in his kennel which breaks my heart because he thinks he's been bad when he has to go in there. Most of the time his kennel sits in the closet but this week it was needed. Poor little guy. If he is still sick when we get home I think we will need to take him to the vet. Which is super awesome because it's always so cheap and affordable. Ha.
Well, now that I've gone on and on about my dog like a natural born mommy blogger, I'm going to head out now to save you the story of me actually having to pull a feather out of his bum.