Warning: unhealthy deuces in the middle of the night may cause unnecessary alarm

This morning at 3:30 AM I was reminded of a very important lesson about expecting the worst. Where there’s smoke, there’s fire. And whatnot. You’re about to read a post about my dog’s shadoobies, so if you have a soft stomach, stop reading.

Murphy woke me up shrieking crying in his kennel at that ungodly hour, which usually means he’s thrown up. We’ve endured a process of elimination as to what causes Murphy to hurl in the witching hour – bones, anxiety, depression, treats, food, water, the time he eats – and then I came to the brilliant conclusion that it was the tennis balls, which he had recently taken an interest in. Right about the time he starting being sick in his kennel. Every night for two weeks. The fuzz on the tennis balls makes him sick, which was sad to forbid them from him because boyfriend really enjoyed his balls. But we found rubber tennis balls and now he drives us batshit crazy wanting to play fetch every single second of every single day.

Upon investigation of his kennel I discovered that it was not throw up, it was a deuce, and a very unhealthy one at that. I’m one of those Oprah followers who believes that your outputs indicate your health, and that goes for children, babies and animals. So I check the outputs of my children when something seems suspicious, and of the dog. This wasn’t good. Plus, he’s never, in one year and one month of life, dropped one in his kennel. Clearly the situation was dire.

I let him out on the back patio and he ran in panicked circles to all the grassy areas to make deposits. He was having a moving meltdown, in distress. And then it stopped and he came back inside, retrieved one of the aforementioned rubber balls and tried to give it to the cat. Curious as to what the deposits that caused us all so much alarm looked like, I grabbed my Maglite flashlight (gift from my husband) and went outside to inspect all the places I saw him pause.

In those areas, the deposits had HEADS and ANTENNAS and they were moving. I called the pet emergency hospital and the woman on the phone was audibly irritated with my repetitive need to describe the creatures to her. She told me that intestinal worms are common because they step on other dogs’ poop and then lick their feet and they pass worms to each other. He spent the night at the pet hotel the night before, so it wasn’t a stretch. I could either pay $169 for the ER to look at him, plus additional costs of treatment, or I could wait until my vet opened this morning. She assured me he was not going to perish so I decided to wait.

He played for 45 minutes, while I sat up and searched photos of dog worms. I also went outside and poured bleach on every one of those fat suckers I could find with my Maglite. He was happy as he could be, up playing in the middle of the night. I was a wreck. I wouldn’t be able to fall back asleep thinking he could crap more worms on my floor or in his kennel. I called my sister, who didn’t answer. I called and left Corey’s Skype a voicemail. Finally I decided that it wasn’t a tapeworm or a roundworm, which are the only worms you can see, so we were going back to bed. All I could see when I closed my eyes were those worms, slithering with their little antennas.

Then it occurred to me. What if it was purely coincidence that these creatures happened to be in the vicinity of Murphy’s little piles of mess around the yard? Come to think of it, those antennas reminded me of the ones on snails….but they didn’t have shells….wait….isn’t there a species of creepy crawlies that are snails without shells? SLUGS?!

Google images confirmed for me that what I thought were crawling dog turds were actually big fat happy slugs invading my yard. I thought the dog was dying and we were going to the hospital. Why didn’t the girl who answered the phone at the ER know that I was not describing any parasite that comes out of the hind ends of canines? When did I become a person who first assumes life-threatening illness or injury? Why did I go first to parasitic infestation and not unhappy coincidence of perimeter of nasty garden creepy crawlies? What in the hell would I have done if the boys had been with me and Murphy needed emergency medicine at 4 AM?

(The mystery of Murphy’s illness has not yet been solved. He is fine this morning and he ate his breakfast like a champion, but we are going to take a sample to the vet to check for any unwanted guests in his colon area.)

I also feel the need to call to attention the fact that Corey has been away from our home for the last four months, save two weeks and three days. Murphy only has illnesses of the gastrointestinal variety when Corey is gone. Never has Corey awoke in the night to the sounds of retching or the crying of a puppy who wants out of his filth. Never has he had to put said puppy in the bathtub at 4:10 AM. I think this is an unfortunate coincidence, though there is some evidence that I make my animals neurotic and they engage in obsessive and unhealthy behaviors. I reject this theory and instead add this to the joys of deployment.

Happy Cinco de Mayo friends. I don't do tequila (anymore) but in the spirited interest of being festive, I may pop a lime slice in my white wine spritzer this evening.