Puppies + Blowouts

Cooper tore his paw open somehow. He has this circular chunk that has completely taken the padding off the bottom of his paw, and all he does is limp and lick it. Yesterday I went all naturopath on him and slathered on this herbal concoction.

Bad idea.

He apparently licked it all off and proceeded to poo his guts out. He tried to wake up/ warn Tessa, but she didn't understand his act of desperation. Regardless, somewhere around 6 this morning the ripe smell of diarrhea choked Tessa to life.

So, naturally, she woke us up with, "uh, guys. Cooper took a giant s**t on his bed, and it smells TERRIBLE."

Sweet.

Chris, being the decision maker/ man of the house, took control and said, "right, I'll take him out and you take care of the bed."

Sure.

Wait? I should really stop agreeing go things when I'm half asleep! So, I tried to unzip the bed cover, but I couldn't hold my breath long enough to be successful. After dry heaving twice (to which Tessa yelled, don't throw up; you'll just have to clean that too), I tied the poo bed up in a trash bag and threw it out my 5th story window.

Yep. I really did that.

I, then, crawled back into bed with the smell of deuces to tuck me in.

Awesome.

So tonight we've applied medicine and an ace bandage to our fur baby's leg in hopes of preventing a repeat of last night's antics.

Cooper Pooper, you have officially earned your nickname. And you're lucky we still love you.