Valentine's Weekend: What I had planned vs. what actually happened

Sam works on Valentine's Day and has had a really rough 2013 thus far. So I told him that Valentine's Day was on me and I'd take care of everything. I really hate the expectations women put on men every year on February 14th. Get over yourself and work together on that day for the plans. I once asked a lesbian friend what her and her partner do every year since in heterosexual couples the "norm" is that the man does everything. She said that they work together every year and if one is busier than the other, the less busy one handles the logistics. I thought that was brilliant and an awesome way to go about things. So my plan was on Saturday, Sam would come in that morning from working overnight and go to bed immediately. While he was sleeping, I'd clean the kitchen and go buy his favorite beer, favorite candy, and maybe a couple of other odds and ends. Once he woke up, I'd take a long shower and go grab some greasy comfort food. We'd eat, drink some Guinness, and while I was wearing something sexy, we'd play Halo. That's not what happened. Friday night, I was extra sleepy so I started to put the dogs up an hour early. They were both napping on the couch so I figured this would be easy. Normally, as soon as they hear me getting a treat, they put themselves up in their crate. This time, Bruce put himself up. Willa didn't. She stayed where she was and didn't look all that great. I can barely pick her up so I nudged/pulled her off the couch to lead her into the crate. She planted herself on the ground and wouldn't move for me. I couldn't figure out why she was behaving this way. I finally got her into the crate but she immediately began whining pitifully. I tried to let her whine it out but she didn't let up. I wanted to sleep. She didn't want to be in her crate. So I broke a rule and put her in my bed. Well Bruce didn't like being left out so he started whining. Fine. I then had both dogs in the bed with me. Twice, Willa jumped down to throw up on our carpet and that's when it clicked why she didn't want to be in her crate. If you properly crate train dogs, they think of their crate as their bedroom. She knew her stomach hurt and didn't want to puke in her bedroom...so she puked in mine instead. Oh well. I let them both out to go to the bathroom in the morning and watched as she tried to defecate. I saw that it was a struggle for her and then I really understood what was going on and knew that this was serious. Willa eats everything. E.V.E.R.Y.T.H.I.N.G. I've pulled kleenix, trash, sticks, rocks, socks, shoes, you-name-it out of her mouth. She's no longer allowed to have a pillow in her crate because she'll eat it. I put a gray scratchy blanket in there, thinking she wouldn't like the texture of it in her mouth. Nope, she liked it fine enough to destroy it/consume it. So more than likely, her stomach issues are a result of a blockage in her intestines which means surgery. As soon as Sam came home I told him of the situation and while he assessed her, I took a quick shower (not the long, shave everything Valentine-prep shower if you know what I'm talking about *wink* that I had planned on). Sam had taken off work from the day clinic he works at but after getting approval from the vet there to take her in, he went and changed from his overnight, ER clinic scrubs to the day clinic scrubs. We packed her up and took off to the vet. She got X-rays taken which showed that she fortunately only had minor blockages that she could pass on through her and a lot of poop. Willa was full of shit. So she was given fluids and something else (I can't remember) and we took her back home to rest and hopefully to shit. (Funny side comment: while one of the vets was petting her he said in one of those voices you use to talk to animals and babies, "Did you shit a wicker basket? Yes, you did. You shit a wicker basket" It was hilarious and so flippin true)
Sam looked at me while we were all sitting on the couch and asked me what I wanted to do that day. It was almost noon at this point and Sam hadn't slept since 8pm the night before. But he had also downed a caffeine pill and a Mountain Dew so his choices were to either comedown off the caffeine high and pass out for the remainder of the day or stay awake. He chose the stay awake option and then asked me what I had planned for the day. I told him I was going to buy him lots of Guinness and greasy food of his choice. He loved that idea so we went and got all of those things. Then he cleaned the kitchen, which was awesome because I hate cleaning the kitchen. We settled down with our Chinese food, he had a beer in his hand, I had a glass of cheap champagne in mine, and we watched movies. It wasn't the Valentines day that I had planned but we spent it together and we didn't have to do surgery on our dog...all in all a success!!!

Now for photos:

Willa looking like a camel while Sam gave her fluids. It was really weird looking but normal.

Bruce wasn't getting enough attention so he chose to sit on his sister until he got petted and loved on. 

The fluids are cold so I wrapped her in a fleece. She looks like the puppy version of Mother Theresa. 

Saint Willa Theresa. Patron Saint of Animals who shit wicker baskets. 

My poor pitiful girl! 

Once again, Bruce wasn't getting enough attention so he managed to  pull the couch cushion completely off and then sat on it like he did nothing wrong.