I've been poorly and Mum nearly choked.

That's me looking a bit sorry for myself. I'm alright now.

I’ve been vomiting. Well, I’m a dog, so it happens from time to time. We dogs tend to eat stuff that we shouldn’t. In fact, when we vomit we even eat that – sorry folks. Too much info, I know. But eating stuff we shouldn’t is what we do best. Mum always says “DROP!” in her very firm Alpha Bitch voice if she sees me eating stuff that I find when we’re out walking, but I’ve worked out that when she says, “DROP!” if I swallow at that point, she simply sighs and says, “You little bugger.” So, I tend to get away with it unless it’s too big to swallow, then I have to drop it. Then I get praise but she doesn’t give me a treat to compensate for dropping the tasty morsel, so I sometimes wonder if it’s worth doing as I’m told.

Anyway, as I said, I’ve been vomiting because I found some really old stuff that smelled quite strong and made me think of very dead things.

Luckily, mum’s house has tiled floors.

So, I ate lots of grass and vomited that up too. Uncle Hugh said “Yuk!” Mum said “Fook!” Mum cleaned it up. Mum always does.

Then mum nearly choked. Uncle Hugh gave her a piece of ham and she started chewing then all of a sudden, she stood up and said, “I’ve got a problem”.

Don’t tell her, but I laughed my socks off. I know it wasn’t supposed to be funny but her face went all red and she started shaking and panicking and flapping her hands around like something injured whilst saying to Uncle Hugh
“It’s stuck, it’s stuck. It feels as if it’s hovering between my ossofoguss and my windpipe (what’s an ossofoguss?) if it goes the wrong way do you know the highmlick manoover?” (what’s that?) I think mum’s been Googling stuff again. She tends to have stuff wrong with her after a session of Googling.

Anyway, Uncle Hugh says, “Of course I do, stop panicking. Here, eat some bread.” And I’m wondering why eating bread would help. So she starts eating bread and drinking water and her hands are shaking and she’s saying, in a rather screechy strangled voice, “It’s still there, it’s not going, it’s getting worse….” Then she coughed and this great big lump of ham shot out of her mouth and onto the floor, and I thought “Yum!” so I ate it.

They both looked at me as if I were some kind of grotesque monster and I’m thinking “What?” I mean, I reckon it was fair game. She didn’t want it, did she? It had been upsetting her. She seemed glad to have got rid of it.

The Law According to Henry – if it falls on the floor, it’s fair game, unless mum says, “LEAVE!” first in her Alpha Bitch voice.

Now for a cute video of me trying to get mum’s attention whilst she was on the computer yesterday morning. I was hungry after all that vomiting.