Dog Tired (my cheesiest title yet!)

It's been a looooong night - and those of you who have seen my 5am FB post are way ahead of the game in knowing what THIS blog is about. But when you can't sleep.... eh.... may as well have something to show for it other than varying alternate popsicle recipes you've made up while staring at the ceiling and the eight different creative budget cuts you came up with at 3am .... (It's easier to get excited about making your own bread and laundry soaps.... and that new No-Poo hairwashing method - clean your hair for pennies, I tell ya! pennies!- when you're laying in bed.

On with the plot.
12:00am Cat with purple peg leg bandages gets mad that she can't get off the bed on her own and yowls until I help her into the bathroom - wait, she's hungry - wait, she just wants to yowl now to let me know how mad she is at me.

1am. Enter 1 sick dog. Bringing new meaning to sick as a dog. (Har-dee-har-har). He literally has to go out every 2 hours... I won't go into detail but let's just say I'm glad the grass is taking the beating and not my carpet. I can tell what he's doing even though I can't see him - because my other four senses prevent me from being blind to it. Blech. Definitely should have just tossed that leftover pot roast.

1:30am Cue crying baby.

3am. Somehow my dog is still sound asleep. But I'm not. Can't decide if it's my fear that Higgins will unleash on the carpet or my husband's loud snoring - which usually doesn't bother me... If I fall asleep before it commences.

4am. DH decides to wake me up - I am so foggy from just having fallen asleep, I can't even remember what he said or why. When your that tired, you can only think in emotions. Blind fury. Yup I blacked out after that.

5am. Husband leaps out of bed to dash off to work. I could make this a funny story, but it's still dark outside and my wit hasn't kicked in yet.

5:15am. Big Dog graduates to vomiting.

Now, my little dog will give you at least an 8-second 'hock' - giving me precious little- but doable - time to shove him out the door. I will spare you my top ten list of amazing things this dog's stomach has rejected, but not without saying I have literally seen this dog puke an entire turd. It was completely recognizable and yeah, cleaning up turd-smelling puke is definitely up there with one of the worst things I've ever had to clean up. So you can understand my desperation to keep him from puking on the carpet.

No such luck with Big Dog. He is an efficient hock-er. And it stains.

Thankfully, while I'm staring stupified at the carpet I so desperately tried to protect, he gives me another few warning hocks and I manage to sprint, herding him out the door, onto the lawn - with only one thing in mind: Making it to a surface I don't have to clean up. Now instead of completing his delegated task, he dashes off into the night. Yeah, leashing him had been the furthest thing from my mind 3.5 seconds ago... but now my sleepy brain surfaces with that genius idea. Way to go brain. Where have you been? You're late!

It's 5:30am. It's dark. I'm barefooted. And I'm in a nighty I wouldn't want my dad to see me in. We live in a retirement community neighborhood. Our neighbors have been up for an hour at least.  With no other choice, I head inside to get my robe, the lysol, and the carpet cleaner, propping the door open on the wild hair that he will find his way back.

Murphy is on my side tonight, because he is back in his bed before I'm even on my knees over the first pile of dog bile. It's nice when at least one thing goes right. BooBoo and I were trying to get our stories straight for what to tell the kids. So far, carried off by a vomit-hungry chicken hawk seemed to be the winner.

So while everything is finally quiet in the house  (and on facebook....and on pinterest...and on Words with Friends), my brain is not.

Thank God my one useful purchase yesterday was coffee.Of course, Higgins will be able to sleep all day to recover from his night of adventure. So at least I won't have to share my coffee with him.

Please enjoy this picture of my cat. Yes, isn't she cute? Not so cute meowing in the middle of the night. But at least she didn't puke a turd.


Amendment:
Decided to go ahead and remove the bandages (since it's finally Saturday morning) on Dinah, and I should have let her get that last bit of gauze herself. Instead, I'm cleaning cat blood out of my sheets. And while I was finishing that, Noah just walked in to inform me that he woke up because he pooped in his sleep. "But it's ok, Mom. I cleaned it up." Yikes. Good thing my other useful purchase yesterday was more bleach.