Does “unconditional” go both ways?

i love my dog.  Nearly 100 lbs of pure heart, slobber, fur and love… delighted to see me, hear my voice, sense my movement in the morning before i’m fully awake. He’s a fellow refugee – a rescued pup – and we are truly companions. He couldn’t be happier than when he’s riding shotgun in the backseat of my old jeep or playing endless games of “catch” with a smelly, chewed up old basketball in the backyard.  i know what it feels like to be loved unconditionally.

But he has some bad habits and this creates issues…

For example, he is a complete gastro-whore.  He will eat just about anything that smells interesting to him.  As a result, he’s is always hacking up steaming piles which are not very interesting to me*.  Something he ate or drank from the backyard last week** did not agree with him, so beginning on Friday night he began to regurgitate, and re-regurgitate small gooey puddles all over my house.  i ran out of paper towels, and resorted to putting down newspaper in the kitchen in hopes of catching the overnight spew.

it worked, for the most part – he’s pretty good about using paper when necessary.  i got it cleaned up, and was headed out the front door to retrieve the Saturday morning paper – looking forward to a quiet morning.  There is nothing like the feel of cold, gooey dog-spew between your toes.  On the teak parquet.  Fuck!

And we followed the same pattern throughout the morning.  Him hoarking up a pile, me chasing him with towels – and tapping into the reserves of my patience.  i had to head out to The Park to visit Mom late in the afternoon.  Coming home at 9 pm, i discovered somewhere between 6-10 discrete ‘splats’.  Trying hard not to be angry – he really couldn’t help it.  And he’d done a fantastic job of nailing just hardwood or tile surfaces.  Or so i thought until i stepped on the carpet in my bedroom as i prepared for bed.  Blechh…

He’s better today – and i’m hopeful that it’s run it’s course.  He’s eaten his breakfast and dinner, no “dog chow curtain call”, and he seems to be feeling fine.  Perhaps no need to take him to the vet tomorrow. 

But i am reminded of a worse situation.  You see, he is also one of those special dogs who eats poo.  Not endearing.  A couple years ago, i hit my limit.  If i had easy access to a baseball bat, i might be dogless today.  Fighting mono, still feverish and exhausted, i was awakened by the sound of Mr. Pickles hacking up something beside my bed.  Groggily standing up to deal with it, i quickly identified what it was that he had hacked onto my rug…

The kids were home – fortunately – and came to his rescue when they heard me screaming at the top of my lungs:  “i will clean up puke!  i will clean up shit!  but i will NOT clean up puked-up shit!”

* When he eats his food too fast, it will occasionally return for an encore shortly after he’s wolfed it down.  Being efficient, we’ve learned that if we just look the other way, leave the room, or put our head back down under the covers, the pile magically disappears.  We can then simply mop the wet spot.

** We had torrential rains last week, and there was still standing water in the back yard.  i believe he may have ingested a bit of stagnant water, which triggered the latest round of regurge…