The Daily Derenger

8/06/2003

I haven't written something here in over a week and what better way to break that streak than with an entry about the dog puking up spicy Italian sausage and cookies. And I'm serious.

I was surfing the net and heard this obnoxiously loud noise come from the hallway. There was Pepper walking away from a huge pile of puke firmly planted against the base of the front door.

With my overly sensitive stomach, I almost dropped a pile right next to hers. I covered my head with my shirt and walked back to the computer. Then it happened again.

As I was yelling at whomever would listen to me about whatever they fed the dog, Pepper was puking again in the living room. This pile was doubly-stacked although I didn't mean to look at it. I simply looked to where I heard the second round of vomit-laden noise coming from and there it was, the light from the lone lit lamp in the living room showcasing the fresh heave.

Again I tucked my head inside my shirt as my dry-heaving began. Just the sight of her puke was enough to send me into dry-heaving spasms.

Just then my sister came home and began selling my mom and step-dad on her getting a new queen-sized bed. She stopped long enough to come check-out the puke for herself.

"Oh look, now she's eating it," announced Lauren, whose room I am stuck typing in while my laptop gets fixed.

That sent me into dry-heaves again, both the re-eating of the puke and the typing in my 17-year-old sister's room.

Welcome to another experience in my life.