One day I was at home alone. I lived with a few roommates and they were at work. As a medic my hours are not always banker hours, so it was like some random wednesday afternoon at about 1:00 in the summer. I notice at one point that my roommates pit bull is making a weird hacking/gagging sound. I go into the room where the dog is and see that he has vomited and has gone diarrhea on himself in his own little doggie bed. I call my roommate and he says basically 'Okay, well, I'll be home as soon as I can." I decide that the dog can't just lay in it's own shit so I lead him to the bath and clean him. I was never a dog owner so it was my first time ever having to lift a dog tail and clean a dog asshole with my bare hands. I tossed his doggie bed into a large plastic bag and set it outside. I fashioned a new one out of blankets. The whole thing was as gross as imagined, but afterwards I felt better and I am certain that he did as well. He clearly was weak and still felt like shit but at least he was clean.
Cut to 2 days later and it has now officially been two days since he has eaten anything at all. I call my sister who is a vet tech and she says to try to feed him anything at all. Imagine a perfect dog-meal and make it, she says. So we made the dog a warm bowl of rice with baked chicken shredded into it and then drizzled with warm beef broth. When we placed it in front of him as he laid in his bed, he literally (I was paying close attention) did not even so much as raise an eyebrow or twitch his nose. No fucks were given about that bowl of rice. I knew right then and there....
I am looking at a dead dog.
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