where's my pillow?!?

we are on day 3 of doggie bombastic diarrhea. she won't eat the pumpkin. she won't eat the rice. she's good with the plain boiled chicken or hamburg though, and although it's bland, it goes through her like, well, shit through a tin horn, as grampa used to say. her poor bum is raw, and she spends much time sitting in the snow - nature's novacaine i suppose. we have been up (and out) hourly for 2 nights now. this morning we took a (very quick) trip to the ER Vet, where they loaded her up with IV fluids and antibiotics. so now she has to pee a lot, too. she is getting exhausted, as am I. when she comes in, she cuddles up next to me and makes a whimpering noise I've never heard from her. my heart breaks. the good news is that Youngblood is in the car with dad and on his way to Newark airport, where, should they make it on time, and should there not be a homicide along the way, he'll be heading to Amsterdam for 17 weeks. and the village sang and much dancing ensued. true to family genetics, they left an hour late and have no idea how to get there, other than vaguely east and a little south possibly, so i am changing the locks on the door just in case. except the garage door, which has broken and remains down & immobile. i am looking for suitable country-western music to soundtrack my weekend. oh - and the carpet cleaner died also, of course. i wish i drank.