I guess "The Great Lasagna Spill Cleanup of 2019" was the tipping point. Bobo cleaned up all three pounds, didn't throw it back up and didn't take a dump by the time we went to the car this morning.
I've been picking him up for years to get him in the front seat. He's about 50 pounds, less than a foot off the ground, and not too long.
Today he didn't want in. He avoided the routine of standing to my left and kept backing away from me. The lasagna slowed him, though, and I soon had him in the familiar grip with both hands on his chest.
I was just leaning him into the car when the dog made a whining sound and there was a ripping noise. I looked down to see Bobo's guts slide out of a split in his belly and splash on the floor of the garage.
A lot of it looked like lasagna.
Maybe Bobo died happy. He sure was a lot lighter.
I've been picking him up for years to get him in the front seat. He's about 50 pounds, less than a foot off the ground, and not too long.
Today he didn't want in. He avoided the routine of standing to my left and kept backing away from me. The lasagna slowed him, though, and I soon had him in the familiar grip with both hands on his chest.
I was just leaning him into the car when the dog made a whining sound and there was a ripping noise. I looked down to see Bobo's guts slide out of a split in his belly and splash on the floor of the garage.
A lot of it looked like lasagna.
Maybe Bobo died happy. He sure was a lot lighter.
