I am sick. Mom says I am really sick.
I am coughing. I am tired. It is hard to breathe.
Mom says she thinks I breathed something in. Into my lungs. Something that didn't belong there. Like peanut butter. Like Tessie's peanut butter. In her tiny Kong. That I stole. Two dark sleeps ago.
Mom says she got worried when she saw me watching television. She was worried because the television wasn't on. She says I was looking at it because I just trying to breathe.
Yes, Mom, I know. I am sick.
So Mom took me to the hospital. Tonight. Late tonight.
We waited for the doctor. We waited with other dogs. The other dogs wanted to say Hi to me. But I was too sick to sniff them.
We waited with some cats. The cats yowled with big eyes, but I was too sick to chase them.
Mom gave me a cookie, but I dropped it and was too sick to pick it up.
Finally we saw the doctor. He took my picture. A picture of my chest. He listened to my chest, too. With his chestoscope. He patted my head. He said I was beautiful. And sick.
He said I had something like New Moan. Mom says that means I am sick.
Yes, Mom, I know.
Someone did a pinchy thing on my neck and Mom gave me a cookie. I ate this cookie. It was better than the last one. It was worth eating. Even though I am sick.
We got home in the middle of the night. Mom said I was breathing easier. I said I was very tired.
Mom says I will be better tomorrow. I think I can sleep now. With my head on the floor.