Wee Wog Wasn't Well

Partly due to our fault, really. Prior to bedding down for the night (and early some more, for once we were gonna sleep before 2am) we needed to satiate our itchy mouth and slake off thirst. And as the Wee Wog normally sleeps in our room at night (unfortunately for her mum doesn't allow her to be Queen Of The Bed any more) she'll follow us around till we knock out in bed.

This means, the Wee Wog also gets supper (shush shush parents not suppose to know). Normally we'll give her a dog biscuit followed by some kibbles (a third to half her normal mealtime's size), but last night we happen to mooch on fruits. A chinese pear (lei), to be specific. And feeding pieces to the Wee Wog.

Unlike our earlier woggies, the Wee Wog just swallows fruits. Doesn't understand the concept of chewing. And we thinks, "Best we give her a much larger piece, force her to chew on it." Bloody vacuum cleaner just somehow scarves the piece! We gave up making her chew.

We were just done with The Golden Compass and was reading the 'Lantern Slides' bit (the trilogy we bought has extra bits!) when we hears the poor wog 'sort of' choking. Understood - she's prolly had trouble with one of the pieces and is trying to get it down or up. It's not blocking her breathing - but semacam a tablet that's lodge somewhere at your esophagus, kinda thing?

*pats Wee Wog on back, chest etc*...Wee Wog is now quiet.

When we leaves Wee Wog alone and lounges once again to finish the book, Wee Wog starts her gag reflex again. This time we're immediately off from the couch, grabbing the house keys and ushering the wog out unto the porch.

Poor miserable thing wasn't looking good (slightly troubled and semi-guilty), and so we took a look to see if the piece is visible. Nope. Then we decided to get her some water to drink. After filling her bowl with fresh water, we returns to see the doormat filled with some white foam. Nooooo idea what that foam was, not bile because it's white and there was no smell, but we can't place it.

It could be that this wog is much more...pampered, or that because Malteses are bred mainly for companionship, or that her puppy license hasn't expired, but we didn't get exasperated, just somewhere along the lines of, "Aww poor thing, better now that you've thrown up?" No "Hai-yar now we got to clean your mess!" but rather, "Good thing you did it outside and not in the bedroom."

No, it didn't occur to us to be horrified too. Somehow we didn't think the wog was in mortal danger.

We got kitchen tissues to clean her up, move her to another spot, takes the mat to the hose to rinse off. When we got back to the wog she'd thrown up again - this time there were the chunks of undigested lei in the foam. Good - she's done with the suffering. And the look on her face? No more misery, just pure guilt and shame and she wouldn't, just wouldn't look us in the face.

Cleaned up the wog again, scrubbed the doormat, hosed the porch, fed the wog some of her Nutra-Vite vitamin gel to get her perked up again, showered, propped her in her box...bed at 5am.

And ended up taking a couple of hours off work this morning - to sleep in the carpark because mum wouldn't let us sleep in peace at home.