TheBanyanTree: My dog has diarrhea

[Monique Young]

That is such a disgusting word as it is. Whether it's the word itself or the
visions it brings to mind, it is definitely not something to be used
lightly. It is messy and smelly and unpredictable. It's much like life, I
suppose. 

So at 3 am my dog, the inestimable Honey, decided to let me know she was
having a situation. She did this by coming to my side of the bed and whining
in a most unattractive manner. This had the result of waking up Ash, who was
sleeping rather peacefully on my feet, and he took this turn of events as a
sign that morning was at hand and it was time to play, so he immediately
jumped off the bed and onto Honey's back. That's what he does every day. 

The other one of us, the one who does not awaken easily, kept sleeping. So I
got up, there seeming to be no other choice, as I have difficulty falling
asleep when dogs are whining inches away from me, put on my pink bathrobe
(yes, it is pink), and opened the bedroom door so both dogs could race
downstairs at what might have been the speed of light. It's hard to say. It
was dark and I was asleep. At least they got out of my way. 

Once downstairs, they both clamored to go out on the deck. This is often
Ash's emergency choice, him being young still, but never Honey's. I tried
anyway, and opened the door to the deck. They shoved each other out the door
and then stood there, and looked at me, and it was obvious that Honey didn't
know what she was supposed to do out there. She is, after all, the civilized
dog, the one who will relieve herself, no matter the circumstances, only on
soft green grass. 

Did I mention it was raining? Yes. It's been raining. 

So they came back in, and they both raced down the stairs to the front door.
For some reason, the light at the bottom of the stairs is out and it's dark
down there, but I managed to find Honey's leash and put it on her. I also
managed, and this was no small feat, to make Ash stay behind while Honey and
I went out. He was quite adamant about coming along, but let's get real. At
3 am I barely have enough energy to take out an old sickly dog in my pink
bathrobe and loafers (wait, that was me in the pink bathrobe, not the dog),
and absolutely no energy for a year old bundle of energy who sees the great
outdoors as one giant racing track. 

So we went out and we went across the way where the grass is and she did her
best to relieve herself, somewhat successfully, but there is obviously
distress. I stood in the rain in my pink bathrobe and loafers, not overly
concerned about being underdressed in public since 3 am is typically a
pretty slow time around here. 

We came back in. The dogs calmed down. I sat down. Did some reading on my
laptop. Slate. Salon. The usual suspects. After about an hour we all headed
back upstairs to climb back into bed. It's amazing that when we do so, the
three of us, we don't wake anyone else up. We're certainly not quiet about
it. Must be the extra doses of Nyquil he's been taking.

A couple of hours later there was Honey, whining again. Her distress was
back, and she wanted me to attend to it. We went through the routine again.
We came back in. She relaxed for a little while. 

Then she started whining again. We went outside again. At this time of the
morning I'm starting to feel a tad conspicuous in my pink bathrobe since
there are now two new factors emerging: the sun is coming up, and people are
more likely to be out. Honey decided this was not the trip to do anything,
as she saw a dog she'd rather go play with, or beat up, or something, and
she didn't want the other dog to see her having diarrhea. So we came back
in, where she promptly realized she'd made a mistake and needed to go back
out. 

I made her wait. I went upstairs and put on a sweatshirt and jeans, and out
we went again. What amazes me is that I managed to make Ash wait inside on
each occasion. He didn't like it much, but when we come back in he's just
glad to see us again. As if we wouldn't be right back. Where else are we
going to go?

So when the next attacks come, I'm ready. Just slip on my shoes, slip on the
leash, out we go, plastic bag in hand. 

I'm ready. Here I sit. Of course, now the dogs are both sound asleep, but
I'm ready.