Squirt

We've had a nickname for Brady the past 48 hours ... Squirt. And it's not a term of endearment, but rather a description of his unfortunate bowel problem. Thursday evening he started with diarrhea, which, unfortunately, presented itself every two hours, all night long. As we live in a condo on the second floor, urgent dog poo requires a special regiment of slip-on shoes and sleeping in one's clothes. Not fun. Especially when it's 37 degrees with 50mph Santa Ana wind gusts. That was a LOOOOONG night. For supper last night, Brady enjoyed half a can of pumpkin with two Immodium tabs. Sweet relief. For all of us.