Hotel California?

Sonny and I left my daughter and traveled to the hotel. The name of the hotel will remain anonymous to protect ME. I left Sonny alone in the car in a box (I know, I'm already a terrible dog owner.) I checked into the hotel, rolled in my suitcase, then went to get Sonny.

I don't know what made me do it, but in hindsight it was brilliant. I asked the hotel to automatically check me out as I planned to leave really early in the morning. Little did I realize how true that statement was to become. At the time, it was just a ploy to get out of the hotel quickly and quietly.

Anyway, I stuck Sonny in a shopping bag with handles, swaddled in blankets. Is that a dangling participle? The bag wasn't swaddled in blankets. Sonny was! And she was whining a little. A foreshadowing of the future, maybe....

I walked quickly and determinedly past the front desk and into the room.

Now what? I didn't realize it, but I really was stressed out. Sonny, although she had started out the day as great as could be, suddenly took a dislike to the introduction of different puppy food. At least, that's what I thought. (Yes, again I'm terrible because I didn't ask the breeder what was being fed to the dogs so I could maintain continuity.)

Yes, she had diarrhea. Every twenty minutes. All night long.

Luckily the bathroom was tile.

But we didn't always make it to the bathroom floor in time.

She was sleeping on my neck. I was trying to sleep. When I felt her stir, we'd jump up and run to the bathroom. (Repeat every twenty minutes from 10:00 at night until 5:30 in the morning.) Clean up with newspapers and towels --yikes! -- on the carpet, the bed, the... You get the picture. And it isn't pretty. I was embarrassed and ashamed. If I had been thinking clearly, I would have left a nice tip. Hopefully they won't associate the room with the name if and when I go back. 

I was supposed to see my daughter that morning, but there was NO WAY! I felt that if I didn't get home with Sonny, get her in my house, where my husband was, where the vet was, where my soul needed to recharge, I'd have a nervous breakdown. I was just beginning to have second thoughts about her life expectancy. And, even though I had owned her for less than 24 hours, I was emotionally invested. 100%.


Oh, did I forget to mention that when I bought Sonny, the breeders were so concerned about her life expectancy that they offered me another boxer at half price? IN ADDITION TO SONNY? Silly me to forget such a small detail! They were willing to sell me the runt, but wanted me to buy an insurance dog. Half price! NO WAY!