Last Sunday I did not have to work. For a Pediatrician in flu season that is a big deal. On top of that I woke up early while the kids slept in. I let the puppy out, fed him, made coffee and let him out again. I got the papers from the driveway and proceeded to do the very, very uncommon thing for me, and go back to bed. I curled up with my coffee and started to read. Ah.

I heard the rustling but chose to ignore it.

So about the dog, it all starts about 2 years ago when a stray puppy poodlish thing showed up on our door step one night. Cute and without anyone to claim him he became ours. Now, I had never owned a dog before. I had owned mice, cats, gerbils, fish, an octopus, guinea pigs, many cats and 6 darn chickens. No dogs. They were nice but honestly, I did not understand them. Then “Percy” showed up. He was as much a pain as he was fabulous. Who knew how great a dog’s love could make you feel? It did not matter how hard the rest of life seemed, it did not matter how rough the day was, Percy was there at the door wagging, licking, sneezing in joy to greet us. He healed us and, one day, suddenly and wrenchingly he was gone.

Last summer a sweet friend offered us a chance to own a dog again. The financial cost was more than I was able to bite off. She arranged to have it lowered. The emotional risk felt huge. How could we love again? But, after much midnight thought and loads of dinnertime conversations with my kids we all decided to take the leap again. We now have wagging, licking, happy 4 month old  “Zeus”. He is jet black with soulful eyes and he is here teaching us all to trust again. Which brings this rubber band story back to the rustling sounds.

I was in bed enjoying some article about the terms “husband” and “wife” and looking forward to reading about the latest travel recommendations when I finally decided it was time to see what was going on below me. Good decision made too late. Zeus had by then devoured 1.5 pounds of dry rice with a side of corn meal.

The vet advised that I administer a chaser of hydrogen peroxide to induce vomiting. I did, Zeus didn’t. We looked at each other. He licked me. I threw the ball. We waited. Then the vomiting started. After an hour of cleaning up puppy-brewed risotto I heard my 13 year old wake up. She had been feeling ill the night before and now, suddenly felt rather queasy. So I ran a bowl up to her bedside while thinking to myself “Seriously?” She sleeps with one of the cats, a sweet, timid kitty who loves her more than Friskies. As I hugged my girlie and held the bowl, the tortoiseshell kitty on her bed started retching. I moved the cat to the floor just in time.

I mopped up the rice. The girl used her bowl. The dog? Well, he cleaned up after the cat.

The paper remained unread.