Having A Dog Is Basically Like Having A Kid

It's not.  I know that.

I personally don't have children.  But my friends do and they've told me the stories.  I've heard about the two a.m. feedings and the constant crying.  The smells.  The liquids... Excuse me while I gag.

That's nothing like having a dog, right?.  Especially when that dog is a chihuahua that weighs less than three pounds.  So why did I draw a correlation between pet ownership and having children?  Good question.  It started one night, a few weeks ago, when we were abruptly woken up by the sound of dry-heaving at Zero Dark Thirty. By the time we were awake enough to realize what was wrong, our aforementioned three pound chihuahua had thrown-up on our duvet.  Not a big deal, she's little, and her stomachs little, so her barf should be little.  I fumble for my phone (yes, despite my last post about airplane mode, I still keep my phone next to my bed), and flip on the flashlight.

Photo by Mike Wing, Wing Studios

I saw what I can only describe as a mountain of partly digested dog food in the centre of our black and purple space-themed duvet cover.  Seriously, I think there were tiny adventurers already reaching the summit!  I gave her a quick pat on the back to comfort her, but also to make sure she's not hurt anywhere.

I made my way out to the kitchen to grab the paper towel when I hear her dry-heaving again.  Seriously?  Like, how much do you even have in there?  I made my way back to the bedroom, paper towel and disinfectant wipes in hand just as another "large" glob of foamy bile and undigested dog kibble land on our duvet cover, adding a second peak to Mount Barf.  So there I am at two a.m., cleaning up vomit and thinking of my poor friends with kids who could be doing the exact thing at that exact moment.

Now, if you've made it this far in reading this post I bet you're either one of two things; disgusted about the barf chat, or starting wonder why we weren't rushing her to the after hours vet clinic.  Well, four years ago, we would have been out the door before I even attempted to clean our bed.  Much like our kid-having friends when they were new parents we would have wanted to get our little one to a doctor as fast as possible. 

The best part about sharing your space with something you need to care for such as a animal or a tiny human is that you get to learn and grow.  Over the course of the last five years of sharing our lives with this tiny creature we have come to learn all of her little quirks that make up her little personality.  The night she got sick, as I was cleaning up her mess, I thought back to what she had eaten that day:

• the same grain free dog food she's eaten since we got her (no issue there)
• her little bite treats (nope, not it)
• a piece of dehydrated beef liver (maybe, but doubtful)
• a chunk of hot dog bun (ding! we have a winner)

We've come to realize that this little Chihuahua has such a sensitive stomach that any tiny deviation in her diet results in an upset.  And this was quite an upset.  For those of you who are still concerned we didn't see a vet, don't worry, I kept a close eye on her over the weekend and within a day, she was back to being the yippy little cuddle factory that she is.

So, to all the parent's out there:  I may not fully know the horrors and joys you face with your kids, but I feel your pain in the middle of the night when you're trying to help a little creature who doesn't know what's happening.

Time to bounce,

D.S. Cannon