On Monday morning, Mommis woke up very early and left to go visit RIley in Utah. This was not fair. Monti knew it.
We took a pair of her unders out on the back patio and played with them for a while, and then we took a bunch of shoes out of her closet, too.
Jerry found the shoes when he came home from work, and put them back in her closet. By that time, it was too late for the unders.
Tuesday afternoon, Mommis looked out on the back patio and saw half a pair of unders. She blamed me. She should know I only like to take them out there and hug them and smell them. Maybe I put a little hole in them, but I never really eat them.
Wednesday morning Monti started barfing wildly. We thought he was hung over from the election. But then he started throwing up everything we gave him. One of the reversals had a big piece of under in it.
Mommis guess it. She apologized to me. Jamie called the vet, who said to keep Monti off food and water for 24 hours. Monti was really miz anyway; he was barfing everything up that he ate. Auntie Belle diagnosed it as pancreatitis from eating a piece of cheese. Everybody got in on the doctor act.
Now it’s Thursday morning. Monti is finally given a little water.
Five minutes later, he poops on the Oriental rug. And out comes — the rest of the unders!