Sometime over the Christmas holidays I got a bad case of the bed yaks. I didn’t write about it because at Christmas there is a lot of other tunes to sing, and Hollywood is releasing their Oscar material, so I decided to wait until after the New Year when the spotlight can be shining where it belongs, on me.
As I was saying one night we were all snuggled in our bed. I was under the covers licking my paws ignoring my parents who were talking about The Bridge knows what when I felt food rising up from my stomach. I came out from under the covers took two steps then upchucked all over the blanket. Now this is a huge no no. You do not desecrate the bed. That is the number two rule of the bed. The number one rule is don’t talk about the bed.
I was picked up by Mommy and Daddy pulled the blanket off the bed and took it to the laundry room. Mommy held me and asked “are you all right?”
Now let me back up and explain that when Daddy went to the grocer they were out of treats. and he bought a different type of treats. They tasted like cardboard. Now sure. I ate them. I’m a dog. I eat poo. There isn’t much I turn down. But the cardboard made me sick which made me have the yaks.
If a human has another human over for dinner, they eat the shrimp scamp; and they run into the bathroom and upchuck it all, does the host run in the bathroom, take their head in their hands and ask “Are you all right?” The answer is “Hey lady I just upchucked all over your floor, you tell me.”
Daddy came back with the only other queen sized blanket in the house (which is the only one I will sleep under.) I hacked up some more of those horrible treats on the floor and Mommy cleaned it. They put a new blanket on the bed and put me on it. Now, if a human has just womited twice in five minutes, would you lay them down upon your only blanket? Make them comfy in your bed? Well, if the bipeds are going to be stupid I am going to let nature take it’s course.
I went back under the new blanket, licked my paw, felt the bad biscuit coming back up and made it three steps before I womited on the only clean blanket. Mommy made a tisking sound. Daddy pulled up the blanket and brought that to wash too. Then he panicked. He kept rubbing my head and asking me what was wrong. Hey look buddy, if you did this to a female dinner guest it would be sexual harassment. so watch it.
Then Daddy got two smaller blankets and put them on the bed, and then put towels over them in case I yakked again, so there we were, in bed with a crazy quilt of blankets over us, sleeping like hobos. Pocket, who has sense, didn’t want to be anywhere near me and sat on Daddy’s chest. After about five minutes I felt more of the bad cookies coming up. This time I jumped off the bed before I yakked.
This is when Daddy had the great brain storm of taking me outside. Now, if you have a human in your house who has yakked a half dozen times do you put a rope around their neck and walk them up and down the street in the dark and the cold?
If you do you are going to be taken to the cukoo house or be charged with cruelty to womiters. Strangely enough, after the work, I felt fine, and we all snuggled together under our make shift blankets like the homeless on a freight train. Once my sick stomach was cleaned out I was fine. Some time during the night one of the Bridge angels must have come to Mommy or Daddy and informed them it was the cheap treats. Mommy threw them out in the morning and forbid Daddy to buy them again.
The point of this blog is for humans to treat us dogs like human friends. Don’t assume we only have one yak in us, and start looking for the reason the the most likely point, crappy treats.
And, if you do have a yakky human, put a rope around their neck and take them for a walk. Worked for me.