The Improvement

So on Friday, I came home to find the house covered in brown pawprints, the dog with no appetite but otherwise fine and several bloody stools that hadn't been left by Boyfriend or me on the floor.

I had been planning on cleaning everything a day later, but Iggy made sure I did it faster.

Boyfriend took Iggy out, came back, and I cleaned. First to get the stains off. Dried diarrhea, even with hot soapy water and microfibre cloth, doesn't come off easily. I rubbed and scrubbed and soaked, and eventually there was no more poop on the floor. Then Boyfriend rinsed out my bucket and cloth, got me fresh water, and I went over it again to make sure it was clean.

We'd spilled some poo water on the bathroom mats, so those got washed again.

Then I prepared the shower, and Boyfriend and I washed Iggy. The spite factor in this was relatively minor. I'm not saying I wasn't partially thinking 'Ha! Serves you right!' at a sick puppy who doesn't like showers, but the main part of my brain was thinking 'blood in poo isn't usually a good thing' and that Iggy licks his paws and butt, which were covered in anything he pooped out. If the poop was infected, it was a vicious cycle and washing would, at the very least, lower the dose he got.

He predictably did not like the shower, nor that his usual ally seemed to have teamed up with me to rain down more misery on his already considerably bleak day. Then we took the blanket he'd spent all week breaking in, gave him a new one and put him in his basket. He stayed in there until long after he got dry. Either he was sulking, either he was scared, or he was simply exhausted. I'm guessing a combination of the three.

Then I washed all the towels we used, Iggy's blanket and the mop on a hot cycle. Die, bacteria, die.

Iggy continued pooping until deep into the night.

I eventually decided he'd pooped more than he'd eaten, since we somehow have a dog that is not interested in anything that isn't the dog equivalent of candy, and made him some rice. I know this is a valid dog thing to eat, since my host family's dog has a diet consisting for a large part out of rice. If his stomach was upset, this could go up to 100% rice for a few days.

To tempt him into actually trying some, I made sure the rice, when served, was warm, moist and smelled of beef. He'd never had beef before, but he's fascinated about the smell each time I make beef stock in soup or risotto. So I cooked the rice in beef stock and gave him a few spoonfuls on a small plate. He ate about a third before seeing through my deceit, but he'd gotten some calories in him, at least.

I wasn't looking forward to the morning, since we'd decided that any more liquid brown stuff meant a trip to the vet.

But he was clean. The house was clean. He'd peed in his litter box, but that was it. Outside, he knew he had to do something, so he walked around until he managed to squeeze out a trickle of pee. Then he walked over to me at the door and looked from me to the doorway until I gave in and let him in.

The dry streak has continued the entire day. He's eating. He's drinking. All that comes out is pee. No more or less than is caninely acceptable. He's turned downright adventurous, following me around as I do laundry (One week's laundry in one day!), dishes (All the dishes are done!) and cook (Finally made spaghetti sauce!) and reorganise the freezer. He comes very close to my chair, only fleeing when I move in his direction or stare too long.

Boyfriend is even less of a threat to him. Iggy comes to beg for cuddles or play time with him (Iggy's PLAYING), and he's even learned a trick. Now, I wish for tricks like 'sit' and 'down' and 'stay', but if Iggy wants to stand up on his hind legs and climb a hand at Boyfriend's whim, who am I to poke at a good thing?

So my scared, sick puppy has been healthy for a full twenty-four hours and is starting to learn that my sounding angry doesn't mean I'll do so for next six hours. Our home is clean and filled with the smell of basil and garlic and cooked tomato. I have groceries for fresh food for the rest of the weekend. I have most Christmas gifts planned out. Oh, and J. gave me a laundry basket full of mystery yarn. Yay.