Winston has been having a bad 24 hours. He woke up yesterday and seemed fine until I took him outside for my first cup of coffee and his morning constitutional. Yeah, that’s when my little fuzzy buddy became my own personal poop cannon. Not to be too graphic at this early hour, but he was getting some distance on that stuff. Repeat that every three hours or so through the early evening and you end up with one very obsessive Jeff… So, off we go to the open-all-weekend vet that my regular doc recommends. The official diagnosis was “We dunno – Sometimes it just happens.”

With my slight tendencies towards being a control freak and near-terminal need to resolve problems, this was not a terribly satisfying answer. On the up side, they gave my boy a shot of some kind and some pills that are supposed to help get the little fella’s stomach straightened out. So far this morning he seems to be doing pretty well… a little food, a little cottage cheese, and no explosive diarrhea. Fortunately I was already going to be home most of the day today, so we’ll see how it goes.