GRODY!!!

I realize that the vast majority of you will be reading this tomorrow - after a good night's rest. However, it is to be noted that it is currently well past my bedtime.

Steven is, conveniently, out-of-town tonight. (He's working, but oh how I wish he were here to help!)

I was just getting ready to settle in for the night. I had put on my PJs, brushed my teeth and was turning on my bedside lamp to do my Bible reading before going to sleep. Just as I pulled back the covers to climb into my nice, big, welcoming bed with white sheets and a white comforter, I notice something yellow. Bright yellow. Neon yellow. Highlighter yellow. Surely my eyes are deceiving me. What is it? Did I have a momentary relapse back to the days of childhood last night and wet my bed without realizing it? No, I think I would have remembered that. Besides, the spot is too high - next to the pillows. I haven't been in, on or near the bed since I left for work this morning. What is it?

MAGGIE! The dog! The dog is always to blame. She was lying in her bed in the corner of the bedroom. She knows she's not allowed on my bed. Did she actually crawl up there and pee? Surely not! She wouldn't do that. I called her name. She looked at me with the guilty face. But it wasn't the guilty face of someone who had wet my bed. It was the same look I had seen before - several years ago. The "I'm sick, and I'm sorry I puked on your bed" face. So I looked at her, and she looked at me. I called her to come to me, and she stayed put. I decided to go to her. She looked sad. I picked her up, and she snuggled. Not a typical reaction when she has been naughty. Oh dear! A sick dog! Yuck!

What to do? I called Steve! (Last time, I called Daddy.) I woke him up and told him all about it. His response - clean it up and sleep in the guest room. Thanks, Babe. So I have stripped the sheets, the duvet cover, the comforter, the matress pad. And I did something brave - I smelled it. I realize this is gross, but I had to know what made her sick. It smelled like chicken. No joke! It really did smell just exactly like chicken bouillon. We don't feed her table scraps (besides I didn't eat chicken today), so she had to have eaten something outside. I'm sure that she and the neighbor's cat shared a bird. So nasty!

For the record, I did consider taking pictures to show you wonderful people. But then I considered what I would think if someone else posted dog puke on their blog... And so I have forgone the puke pictures.

Maggie has only thrown up twice since I've had her. The first time was many years ago. I hadn't had her too long, and she and I were in my apartment (before I had even met Steve). It was about midnight or 1:00 a.m., and I heard heaving noises. I woke up in that foggy, dreamy state to reach over and pat my adorable dog who had just joined me in my bed. Just as I reached out to her, she threw up. IN MY BED. It smelled just like bacon grease. I knew exactly where and when she had eaten it (not at my house). Ugh! I didn't eat bacon for the longest time after that. At the time, I assumed that she puked in my bed because she was trying to wake me. And now, six or seven years later, when she's feeling ill again, she returned to my bed. Why does she puke on my bed? At least this time I wasn't in it.

So now my sweet sleep and visions of loveliness have been interrupted as I wait for the duvet cover to finish its wash cycle so that I can throw in the sheets.

For all of you out there in Blogland, I wish you sweet dreams and restful sleep. And may your beds be puke-free tonight.