I was awoken by the little miniature pincher scratching on the front door, wanting to get out to go for a walk. Everyone else was dead asleep, so I decided that I could wake up and help the lil fella out. I know that if I was a dog and needed to take a walk I would want someone like me to wake up and take me out.
So I got up, got dressed and found the dog’s leash, noticing the wet carpet and soaked paper towels on the floor, but not paying them any attention. I attached his leash, opened the door and followed him as he sprinted out ahead of me.
It was still relatively cool outside and because of the early hour the campground was still pretty much unstirred. The only movement came from the hopping frogs and the early risers looking to catch the fish, who are more likely to be caught early in the morning. The sun was just peeking out, but couldnt be seen as the tall evergreens filtered out most of the light.
We started our ill-fated trek by turning left onto the campgrounds thoroughfare. He walked up to the first shrub, lifted his leg and squirted a little of his early morning tinkle to leave his scent. He put his leg back down and walked to the next shrub.
He looked at me
and then sniffed again.
He squatted his little doggy ass towards the ground and began to try to take his little doggy dump. He began a squat/walk that some dogs do as to not get poo on themselves. But all was not well.
Poor dog, nothing was coming out! He did his squat/walk for about 10 feet and still nothing came out. I finally tugged on his leash thinking that he might be more successful trying somewhere else. Maybe he wasnt comfortable doing his doggy business in this area. Maybe someone was watching him and he couldnt perform with all of the pressure.
We walked another 30 feet or so and were approaching the small fishing-hole lake when he tried again. He squatted and walked and still nothing came out. I let him go for about 15 feet before tugging on his leash again, asking him, "doggy, what's wrong?"
And just then hell broke loose. He started to heave, violently and uncontrollably. I have only seen this kind of heaving before from cats with fur balls. Unfortunately for this little dog, and similarly to his other end experience, nothing came out. He heaved for a good minute, while I was looking on dumbstruck wondering what to do and then he fell down on his side.
As I was kneeling over to see if he was breathing, curious about what just happened, and wondering if I just killed this poor dog, a blond haired, short and sloppy menace child skretched the breaks on his bike and stopped right in front of me and the dog:
"Is that dog yours?"
"Uh?" wondering what to say since the dog isnt mine. Im trying to take care of this dog and this child is giving me the 10th degree.
"IS THAT DOG YOURS?"
"Uh, yeah, I mean no, the dog isnt mine, I am just taking it for a walk." I felt the dog’s chest and noted that he was breathing, but only intermittingly. I turned away from the kid and picked up the dog thinking that I would have to carry him back to the house, wake everyone up and tell them that I killed their dog.
"Where's the bathroom?"
Wait, the kid hasnt left. "Not near here, use a tree."
"I cant use a tree! That's dirty!"
"I dont know what to tell you, Im busy, leave me alone." I put the dog on his stomach and just then, without warning or provocation, he stood up, licked his little doggie lips and started to talk back to the house.
As I walked back with the dog I could hear the kid still asking me questions, but I honestly couldnt tell you what they were since I was still flumished from my near dog death experience.
Apparently the night before the dog ate something that dogs shouldnt eat. He had doggie diarrhea all night long, which was cleaned up earlier in the morning with water and paper towels. I can only assume that the dog heaved so hard and for such an extended period of time that he made himself pass out. Obviously not the smartest dog in the world, but at least he is still a living dog. For the sake of my sanity, I wont be walking this dog again.