My new least-favorite sound is that of a dog about to throw up. That horrible heaving noise has been heard much too often in our house this week. Vegas is either sick or is making herself sick by eating too fast. I keep walking into the living room to find her sitting in front of a pile of puke, looking up at me with sweet, confused eyes. It always happens when Matt is at work, so I have cleaned up puke seven times since Monday. Yuck. Each time she gets sick, she runs for the red shag rug of course—the hardest rug to clean.
Vomit does not readily come out of shag. I did half-ass try to clean it but kept putting off lugging the carpet cleaner upstairs to do it right. Instead, we got it acceptably clean (acceptably clean meaning if it’s dark, you won’t notice it) and flipped the rug in half. Now she still runs to the rug…and pukes on the underside. The rug is a goner I’m afraid. I love it, but it has been through too much. It saw her through potty training successfully, but I think this week of vomit has killed it.
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