I Am Sick

Jib here.

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.