It's just gross . . .

Last night (Friday night) we took my brother's dog to keep for the weekend while they were away on vacation. Candy is a good, sweet-natured golden retriever. Very obedient, and very responsive to human emotion. She watches your behaviors to anticipate what is coming next: food, play, walks, lying around. She is mostly a lot of fun.

She was a bit restless last night, and I couldn't figure out why. We had gone on a long walk. She had been fed, maybe a little too much. We had played plenty. The dog mostly stays on an area rug or in the kitchen. I went to bed late, and was watching a movie - and Candy whined some. I don't know why I didn't heed it. We had just taken her out to go the bathroom. When she continued to whine, I should have investigated, but I didn't thinking she was just begging to sleep in our room. When I finally did investigate . . . oh the trouble.

I first took her straight outside, and she ran to go the bathroom. It was dark, and I wasn't venturing far out as our driveway is definitely not very private, but I could see the outline of her body hunched over struggling to go poop, while continually checking in my direction. When she finally returned, I brought her in and went up the split entry to our apartment, and she stayed at the bottom of the stairs. I'm sure I heard the dog moan. I turned around and let her back out and she shakily walked out the front step, her body heaving a couple times before she vomited. She came back in, her eyes looking warily up at me, only changing their glance when her stomach gurgled. She came upstairs with me and I investigated what had happened. In short, one soft stool, two vomit piles and some of it tracked around the kitchen.

I don't know if I was able to clean it all up, I dread the thought that I missed even the slightest spot of our formerly perfect carpet. I mopped, I scrubbed, ugh . . .

The dog curled up on her rug and fell into a guilty sleep. I finally went to bed at five am, and she woke me up an hour later - snuffling my arm after having left a small pile of stomach bile on the carpet. I let her out, watching her, debating whether she was okay. I went to sleep, only to be woken in the same manner an hour-and-a-half later - let her out, came back in and cleaned up two more small vomits of stomach bile.

I know this is all very gross, but it wasn't nearly as gross as cleaning it all up.

At this point, I woke up Tolga and he walked the dog back to my brother's house where she could stay in the back yard.

I'm torn between "poor dog" and "ugh, I don't ever want to hand out in the living room again".