I love the smell of vomit in the morning.

Good grief y’all. This morning I rolled over and realized Johnny was already up and in the shower. Per usual, I rolled back over because I’m unemployed and I can. Suddenly I hear this revving sound. A kind of growly revving sound. Then I realized it was actually a heaving sound. Mr. Cooper had to barf.

I immediately leapt up and yelled to Mr. C, “C’mon, Coop! Outside!” He started barreling up the stairs but stopped short at the landing. I put my hands under his rump and shoved him forward, but it was too late. A big gob of foamy puke flew out onto the one part of our house that has carpet instead of hardwoods. Ewww.
Whilst this is not totally uncommon, it kept up for the remainder of the morning. I’d hear the heaving and we’d both dash to the door that leads to the backyard. Sometimes we’d make it, other times, notsomuch. My poor pooch was having a time of it.
I finally darted into the bathroom and while doing my thing, heard him out in the hallway, starting once again to do his. “Mr. Cooper! Go outside! OUTSIDE!”. I heard the sharp crescendo of his hack and I knew he hadn’t made it. I didn’t think too much about it and dashed into the kitchen for more paper towels. When I came back to the scene of the crime I cringed. Well, when I say I cringed I meant my heart sank and fell weightless into the dark empty pit of my stomach.
There was a splatter of crimson on the floor. No vomit, just blood.
Let me back up here for a sec. If you’ve read this little blog since its inception, you know there’s been plenty of posts about ole Mr. C. Some serious, some funny, some just dumb. Mr. Cooper has been by my side, literally, for over 5 years now. He’s the only thing that has remained constant and consistent in my life, especially during these last challenging two years. I don’t want to come across as one of those folks who cover their cars in ” I heart my dog” bumper-stickers or refer to their pet as their “child”. I’m not of that lot. What I am is someone who took in a dog. He needed a home and I gave him one. For the first two weeks he crawled into every corner of my house and hid himself. He did not eat. He wouldn’t really even let me pet him. I’m sure this was from the trauma of switching homes, but it was very difficult. I wanted a happy go lucky dog that would stick his head out of the car window and play ball with me. Instead, I got a moody shaky dog that shed more than I thought possible.
Well, that was then and this is now. Mr. Cooper has become my confidante, my best friend and quite the comic. He’s always by my side and trusts me implicitly. Is he perfect? Hell to the no. In fact, he recently douched out and ripped up a screen door in our home just to be an asshole. Bad dog.
But he’s my dog. My dog.
He’s a huge part of my life. He’s my buddy and my devoted furry friend. My mixed up mutt that protects our family and lies at the foot of my bed every night and jumps up every morning as excited to see me as if I’ve returned from war. His scruffy head will light upon my knee when he senses any sadness or discontent on my part.
So, I immediately called the Vet and made an afternoon appointment. I was panicked. I was reminded of that episode of Breaking Bad when poor Walt realizes the rules have changed when he coughs blood into his own hand. Oh, God, please not my dog. For the love of Pete, I’m the one that smoked for over twenty years – it should be me!
Well, all drama aside, they ran some tests and gave us some drugs and did some blood work. The Vet was very reassuring that it’s probably a case of gastroenteritis or a sensitive esophagus due to vomiting. They even suggested he could have a mild ulcer, due to the stress of a new house and surroundings. This made me laugh because if you’ve ever met Mr. Cooper, you’d know that you almost have to hold a mirror under his cold wet nose just to check if he’s breathing. One could say he is low key.
I’m sure he’s going to be just dandy and he’s even acting better this evening. What I’m not sure of is how I’m going to handle this dog’s aging and eventual decline. His mortality hit me like a nail gun to the face today. I guess the only thing you can do is look into those sorrowful brown eyes and promise to make every day he’s with me the best it can be. More ear rubs and walks. More belly scratches. And more squash casserole.*
* Mr. Cooper has been known to spit out bacon and bologna, but absolutely loves my yellow squash casserole. I think it’s the dill. Don’t judge, he’s got a sophisticated palate.

5 thoughts on “I love the smell of vomit in the morning.

  1. Sheri says:

    I'm really really glad he's okay.

  2. Anonymous says:

    I'm glad to hear he's okay! From the stories I've heard, Mr. C. is one tough guy.Not to be a downer, but Mac passed away two weeks ago. He was happy, wild, and full of energy right up until the last few days. (RM)

  3. Jen says:

    Thanks! I appreciate your kind words. RM, I'm stunned and saddened to hear of Mac's passing. What a fun and sweet soul. I still can see him with a big ole log in his mouth swimming towards shore, unstoppable! I have many pictures of his big furry butt if you'd like me to send any. Thanks for commenting. Hope you're well, my friend.

  4. Daisy says:

    okay, I just shed a tear for Mr. Cooper. He is such a handsome baby!Also, note that he loves half of a bagel, hidden nice and neat in the side of the couch and behind all cushions. Also, if you would allow him to rip up some blinds every now and again he might recover sooner.Damn dog 🙂 I miss him!

  5. Anonymous says:

    Thanks. I'd like to get the pictures, but perhaps a little later if that's okay. Time, you know.Cooper the couch squirrel, ha.

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