Wednesday, 31. March
I'd forgotten about that what-appyred-to-be-a-dead-bird that Zeetz had found and finally dropped the day before. On yesterday morning's run, my little angel wolfed it down. And then, much to her thrill, she ran away from me, laughing hahaha, when she found yet another unidentified dead creature and wolfed that down, too. Both on the same run. How much disgust can a dog's stomach take.
I arrived home from work yesterday afternoon. She was standing up, tail at half-mast, with slow movement back and forth. No barks of excitement. I let her out of the cage, and still no excitement. She walked slowly up the stairs behind me and, with great effort, climbed onto the couch and lay there. I'm sure I heard her whimper strain ever so softly, 'Oh, woe is me'.
I took her out for her walk but she wasn't much interested in anything. She did give short chase to a squirrel but then quickly gave up. She snarled at her play buddy, Gus the Boxer. Whenever we stopped, she just lay there.
She appyred to be a little livelier this morning. She ate her breakfast. I kept her on-leash for a lot of the run because dogs can be stupid. When we feel sick to our stomachs, we think back to what we ate. Not dogs because they don't make the connection. The more crap they keep eating, the better, no matter how bad they feel. I'm considering a muzzle for her. Clara loved garbage and she loved human feces the best.
The little mouse is squeaking as I type this. She is back in fine form.
I know, she is filthy. That is dirt that remains from her play date at Sue's. So far, she doesn't have a typical Pyr coat whereby the dirt will fall out and the Pyr appyrs clean. Not her. You can see how grey/brown looking she is. Bath time soon.