June 25, 2008

White Dog came into the computer room with a "I don't feel so well" look on her face. I distractedly reached down and rubbed her ears; but she captured my full attention when she leaned over and vomited on the rug. Before I could reassure her, White Dog ran for the dog door and just made it outside before another wave hit. I was cleaning up when she came in, ears flat, apologetic. I stopped to hold and pet her and to soothe her. I do not know if it was what something White Dog ate (outside?) or the heat, but after purging she seemed more comfortable. She shared a bit of lunch when Steve came home and slept a good portion of the afternoon.