I have to share the latest Duncan story (and yes, I will try not to be one of those annoying people who do nothing but talk about their puppy).
First, let me begin by saying we have been having a hard time keeping Duncan from eating the grass. He has been chowing down on the grass like we have not been feeding him real puppy food. I've heard from several sources this indicates an upset stomach, but I think with everything we've been trying it is simply a legitimate like for the feel of the grass in his mouth.
The other night Jeff awoke to the sound of Duncan puking. Yes, puking. Grass makes you puke. He quickly woke me up to tag team the cleaning/removal of Duncan from the puke (which he was at this point standing/rolling in). Jeff released him and I began attempting to get him to down the 2 flights of stairs to the safety of outside. He ran from me, trailing puke down the hall. By the time he got outside, there was a definite trail leading to the backdoor in a zigzag pattern of puke on the floor.
I went outside with Duncan to console him and clean him off as best I could while Jeff took care of the mess inside. The door closed and locked behind me. Welcome to 4 am at 40 degrees in our new backyard. Without a sweater or jacket. In my pajamas.
Jeff finished cleaning before letting us back inside. Apparently the cleaning supplies were not enough to get rid of the stench, so Jeff used the next best thing: FeBreeze. Now, I like FeBreeze as much as the next person, but the potency of this stuff left us coughing (seriously, he must have poured it on instead of using the spray nozzle).
I opened some windows to make sure we did not die of chemical inhalation when trying to go back to sleep. Of course, with it being 4 in the morning and 40 degrees outside, it was a bit chilly. Never fear, though, because we have blankets... somewhere... somewhere in the midst of boxes surrounding us (because we just moved and have not unpacked everything yet), there were blankets. I was sure of it.
... But as it was 4 in the morning, Jeff and I spent the remaining time fighting for the comfort of the sheets and thin blanket covering us.
We spent the next day going over the backyard with a fine-tooth comb (again) to rid as much as we could that may be a danger to Duncan. I was convinced everything that could pose a problem was removed, so imagine my surprise when we were outside playing and he came up to me with several large paint chips in his mouth. Who knows where they could have come from, but I am guessing we still have our work cut out for us.
Hope all is well with you and yours and that this post makes you smile a little. :)