I wake up at 5:50 am. Willi had been perfectly normal since Monday evening until this morning at 5:50 am, at which point his stomach starts acting up again. The noises coming from his stomach are loud enough to wake me up out of a deep sleep. He stares at me in discomfort with that urgent look in his eyes. He’s nauseous and wants to go outside to eat some grass. I bundle up and we head out in the dark freezing cold. Within a few yards he is vomiting bile, his tiny body convulsing with each heave.
We are not having a good time.
We find a spot of long frozen grass and Willi eats a fair amount. I guess he knows what he’s doing. We don’t stay out for long because of the brutal cold. When we come back in he seems to be a bit more comfortable even though his stomach is still churning around. He falls back asleep again but I am wide awake. By 7:30 am he is up again vomiting in the backyard. Once the bile is all out of his system he starts to recover.
My life has become a dog’s life because my dog is as sick as a dog. Ssssh, I don’t want to hear any complaints about that last sentence. Four hours of sleep will make a person say strange things. I need a nap and it’s only 10 am. Yikes. And I promised myself that I would never again use the word "Yikes!" and I've just used it twice.
And so a new day begins…
I love that picture of little Willi!!
Precious little creature...
I do remember when you brought him the first time..he was so tiny and so vivacious.
I also remember your dad playing with him with the stick, the tennis ball sometimes two of them at the same time...funny Willi