I’ve been feeling so smug about Dionne’s apparently new capacity to root around in the compost out back, chew on some of it, and NOT throw up. We’ve been testing this out for maybe two weeks, and she’s been great. So I’ve been allowing her to spend a little time (maybe a maximum of 10-15 minutes a day) in the yard, unsupervised. Steve’s been skeptical, but the theory I’ve been advancing is that she needs to do this in order to get tired of eating things that will irritate her stomach. I.e., in order to become a normal adult dog.

But this morning, I found this tableau under our dining table:

Surely you don’t think I deposited that nasty mess.  Not moi!

It pretty much all looked like undigested dog kibble, with a few dog treat bits mixed in.  Closer inspection revealed one of my earplugs, which she must have snatched from my bedside. But surely that wouldn’t have made her throw up. God only knows what did.

What’s most obnoxious about this turn of events is not cleaning it up. We’ve become inured to that. But deciding what to feed her for the rest of the day is a pain. I’m leaning toward giving her some well-boiled rice for dinner (though I may live to regret not making her fast for 24 hours).

Even worse is that we now feel we need, once again, to cut her back to no time alone in the yard. At least for a while. That’s a sad turn of events.

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