I interrupt the regularly scheduled Travels with Tommy trip update with a view from the morning:
Out on the still chilly deck, I watch the predawn sky transform from gray to opalescent pink. Red-winged blackbirds begin to trill and robins sing out their early greetings.
The sound that drew me out here, however, was not that of spring but of the unmistakable heaving of a dog about to vomit. The sight interrupting this pastel scene is of a neon yellow streak of bile across the deck. It’s the color of a highlighter, the shape of a slash underlining something important.
Among the bits I’m learning about life with a Dane is that this gentle giant has a giant stomach. If it goes too long without food – as long as from dinner to breakfast, sometimes – it gets upset. I suspect it is akin to the churning that can happen when humans take meds with only water, nothing to eat. It is what I do every morning so I can relate to how Tommy feels.
He leads me inside. I give him a stomach-settling biscuit. There is, indeed, something important highlighted in this exchange. We take care of each other.