Le sigh. It was probably a little naive to think that this road to feeding a completely raw diet wouldn't have some bumps along the way.
When I picked the kids up from daycare (AKA Grammie's house) yesterday, I was informed by an unimpressed mom that Elli had just vomited on the living room rug. She was acting just fine -- doing the mom's home dance, grabbing a toy and tossing it, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, etc. -- and upon further probing I learned that she had only vomited the foamy yellow bile stuff. No big, she was just over-hungry. Which I suppose makes sense when she's been accustomed to having slow-to-digest kibble in the morning rather than the quick-to-digest chicken thigh that she got. Easy solution: give her two cookies, or a larger cookie, at lunch time to tide her over until dinner.
Said dinner last night consisted of chicken hearts, gizzards, and some beef liver. I will 'fess up here that I do brown the beef liver a little -- not cooked through, just the outside browned before I cut it up for them, because... um, eww. (Comment from hubby: "That's not OUR dinner, right?")The dogs have been getting the occasional liver anyway, so that's not a change for them. So, a couple chicken hearts a piece, some gizzards that I cut into manageable size pieces, and maybe 4 oz. of liver apiece. This was a big hit, especially with Ian. So much so that I don't think he even stopped to chew any of it.
Wait: actually, I can attest to the fact that he didn't chew it. Because about 20 minutes later, he PROJECTILE VOMITED it across my living room carpet.
I mean really, have you seen The Exorcist? Yeah, like that. But without the head-spinning. Well, maybe MY head spun around a little, but anywho... We're talking a good 2.5 to 3-foot arc, because maximum coverage is important when vomiting on wall-to-wall carpet. (It's in the Rules for Dogs to Live By book.) And yeah, it looked pretty much the same as it had 20 minutes before, with the addition of a little added moisture. No, Joanna, I did not let him clean it up himself. Seriously, there are limits.
I know there wasn't a problem with WHAT I fed them; Elli was fine, and none of the components were anything they've never eaten before. I therefore conclude that either: a) Ian just bolted it too fast; b) I fed him a little too much; or c) the post-dinner rough-housing was a little much immediately following the meal.
On the upside, I saved the $20 on obedience class last night. :-/
I am deeply concerned that, suddenly, a raw fricking chicken thigh seems the lesser of the evils to me.
Dog people are not normal.
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