Actually, I'm doing very much better. Thank you, dear readers, for pulling for me. While I was recuperating, A. Alpha was trying all day to put goofy sunglasses on me so I could look like her friend Margene in this picture.
But I wouldn't allow it.
Anyway, we don't really know what happened to my tummy, but I threw up a lot of grass Sunday morning and I could not eat or drink even one drop of chicken broth for a good 24 hours or more. And then she gave me some boiled rice, boiled chicken, and cottage cheese, and it was good and I ate it, but about three hours later I threw it all up, completely undigested. A. Alpha said she was very frightened for me because I'm so small. I don't know about frightened, but I know I sure didn't feel good.
But yesterday morning when I got up, I was feeling a teeny-tiny bit better and I drank some water. And then A. Alpha made me some brown rice and plain yogurt, and I liked that. All day long she and David fed me about two teaspoons of that every hour, and you know what? I didn't throw it up! And then A. Alpha made some scrambled egg and gave me a bite, and I didn't throw that up either! And I drank some more water.
And then we took a walk, and I felt a lot better. My tail was up in the air like usual, and I peed a few times. So we didn't go to the doctor, but we still might today, she says, if I don't poop.
She's been humiliating me all day by saying that she is on poop watch, because she says that once I've pooped, then she'll know that I'm really OK. She said she was even wishing FOR THE FIRST TIME EVER (she said it real loud) that there might even be poop on the floor when she got home from work last night.
Gawd. Is nothing sacred?
A. Alpha's note: Poop is not a dirty word! Everybody poops, Mr. Jefferies! Just not on the carpet.