Oy …

There I was, happy as a clam at high tide, not knowing that amongst the other birthday gifts someone had generously donated a case of stomach ‘flu.

Of course, as is the nature of that kind of thing, I didn’t discover this gift until about, oh, zero-bloody-dark-thirty in the Ay Em.

There I was — happily involved in an intricate little dream involving the Doublemint Twins, a large amount of marzipan frosting, several gum drops, and a ring-tailed lemur in a umpire’s uniform — and I’m suddenly sitting bolt upright in bed, cold sweat everywhere, absolutely certain that I’ve just heard HAL 9000‘s redneck cousin announce:

“Total, Ah say, total containment failure in fahv … fower…”

Somewhat confusingly, at the same time I was thinking that that sodding lemur needed his eyes checked, because I was clearly safe at third.

Come to think, there may have been some mild delirium issues.

“Ah ain’t kiddin’ none,” continued the voice of BUBBA 9000, “Ah’m talkin’ Biblical [deleted] now … three … two … seconds to total containment failure …”

Followed by an ominous bubbling rumble from somewhere betwixt my brisket and my fourth point of contact.

Bedclothes went one way, pillow went the other, and I’m high-stepping for the khazi quick, fast and in a hurry, snagging a handy trashcan on the way by.

Got there just in time to assume the position — and I’m here to tell you that BUBBA 9000 is a master of understatement.

An unknown length of time later, and I’m blearily trying to understand how it could be anatomically possible for one human being to jettison that much stuff — even using multiple exits — without tossing out a major organ or two in the process when, hey! I’m face down on the floor!

Not a clue as to how I got there. Or how the hell my leg wound up wedged across the top of the toilet tank.

My first thought was to decide that I had either 1) managed to evacuate my spinal column during the height of the performance … so to speak; or 2) I’d given myself a stroke.

Fortunately, my faithful feline companion, Ittycat, had followed me into the room and was sitting next to my head.

“Run, Ittycat! Get help!”

Ittycat sneezed sedately, rendering himself cross-eyed, and causing the painting of the bathing baby in the washtub mounted over the towel rack to crash to the floor.

“Go tell Chris I’m in trouble!”

Ittycat reached out and gently patted me on the face with a dainty paw. This is, I have discovered, Catspeak for: “Excuse me, but are you going to be much longer?”

Well, either that or, “Fall down again, funny human!”

I glare at Ittycat.

“Stupid cat.”

Ittycat blinked big (slightly crossed) gold eyes at me. Translation: “This floor is linoleum. It chills my toes. Ah, a handy ear to sit upon. Ta, ever so.”


Now, the LawDog Theory of Emergency Medicine states that the seriousness of your medical condition is directly related to how embarrassed you’re going to be when the paramedics tell the story of how they found you.

Face down on a bathroom floor? Check.

Cat sitting on head? Check.

Dancing yellow armadillo boxer shorts? Check.

Oh, yeah. We’re past stroke and well into Ebola territory here.

I feel around the general location of my temple, grab Ittycat gently and set him on the floor, where he curls his tail around his toes and burbles happily; then I drag myself up the front of the bathroom cabinet to stare woozily into the mirror. I stick out my tongue at my reflection. No deviation.


“She sells sea-shells down by the sea-shore.” No slurring, no more than the usual amount of spray.


I shade my left eye. It dilates and constricts as per usual. The right eye does likewise.


From the floor next to my left knee comes a sound somewhat like the detonation of a SCUBA tank, and I look to see Ittycat on his back, blinking at me in mild feline astonishment. His eyes, I note, are crossed yet again.

“We gotta do something about your allergies.”

Since I have obviously not given myself a stroke, I pull meself to my feet, hit the requisite lever on the khazi, stagger three steps, fall back into bed and pull my pillow over my face with a groan.

Ittycat, of course, promptly hops onto the pillow with a contented trill, curls up and goes to sleep.

This, Gentle Readers, is exactly why Lassie was a dog instead of a cat.


Joe Snow
Public Service Announcement

40 thoughts on “Oy …”

  1. Dear Officer Lawdog:

    Wonderful anecdote. Terribly sorry about the ‘flu. And as regards your observations upon the cat, it were ever so.

    I have but two questions in this context:

    1. What precisely were you drinking before your dream and your unfortunate mishap? and

    2. Where can I get some?

    Obviously, it was not kosher Coca-Cola.

  2. Lawdog,

    I apologize in advance for (possibly) hijacking the comments here, but the US just dodged a bullet regarding its sovereignty.

    Moreover, the news barely reported anything on this case. It could have happened right under our very noses.

    I wrote about it here. Thought you might be interested, seeing as how you follow these kinds of things. Besides, I want people to know about this and vote accordingly.

  3. Dancing yellow armadillo boxer shorts? Check.

    I’m sorry, Lawdog, I just couldn’t get past this visual.

    Hope you’re feeling much better!

  4. I sure hope you are feeling better – but – OMG this was hysterical! I can totally relate to the cat on your head!! The armadillo boxers – not so much, but the cat antics… do you think our cats might be related?
    Feel better!!

  5. LawDog… So that’s where the nearsighted lemur umpire and the dancing armadillo in Joe Boxers went when I stopped taking the vicodin!!!

    Well, that’s one mystery solved.

  6. He neglected to mention that he acquired a nice little black eye as a result of his bathroom adventures.


  7. You should try that with 3 cats. There’s nothing like having a 17 pund cat falling asleep in your drawers.

  8. Not a bad nuero check for a LD. Of course your report did almost precipatate eleptiform activity that almost threw me off the couch.

  9. Sometimes I wish I blogged. I’ve got a really good story that occurred on a trip I didn’t take to a place I never went with people who don’t exist. I didn’t make it to the crapper. It hit that fast.

  10. Good news/bad news: yes, we canines would probably have gone to find another human to help; no, you would never live it down and your roommate/SO/spouse would be tellin’ the tale for free drinks at the local waterin’ hole for life. Glad you’re better now.

  11. Heres hoping for a quick recovery.
    I can relate to the cat part.As we have 6 of them

  12. Q: What’s worse than sitting down on the toilet in a hurry with a really, really bad dose of the runs?

    A: When your squadmates have decided that tonight would be a good night to Klingwrap all the toilets. Particularly when the Klingwrap has been applied beneath the toilet seat so that you can’t detect it until . . . well . . . you get the idea.

    How do I know this?

    Trust me.

    I know this.


  13. I’m betting at least one of the kitty’s messages was “hurry up and flush the Magic Fountain.”

    I’ve had to hurriedly toss cats out of the bathroom one-handed while trying to get de-pantsed and onto the seat with the other more than once.

  14. So sorry to hear about the stomach flu. When I’ve woken up with it, I’ve invariably had a dream which involved being on water; I specifically remember a canoe one time.

    Cats are never helpful except on really cold nights when they can often be induced to crawl beneath the covers to act as non-cooling hot water bottles.

    You also have my condolences on Ittycat’s allergies. Our current model, Sextus, has sneezed since we took him in four and a half years ago. It got very bad last year, to the point that you just had to walk in the door and listen to tell where in the entire house the poor beast was. So the vet has him on half a little yellow generic chlortrimeton twice a day. I can really tell when I forget, from the horrid burbling snorkling sounds emitating from beneath the bed. Makes it really hard to sleep for everyone concerned.

  15. The good thing about stomach flu is it’s short lived so I hope you are back to your old self now Mr. Dog.
    As for the Ittycat – sounds like the twin of my Lilycat.

    Ky Person

  16. With friends like that, who needs enemas…..

    Thank you, thank you… I’ll be here all week… Try the veal…

  17. Mr. ‘Dog,

    Please, don’t confuse the tears in my eyes for laughter at your suffering. I offer my sympathy…and then crack up at the way you wrote it.

    Hope you get better soon!


  18. A cat is an arrogant, entitled creature of limited intelligence who has somehow developed the ability to domesticate humans. A dog, however,is a friend and companion. As my old grandaddy used to say, “the only good cat is one drying on the highway”.

  19. Stupid Humans.

    First, the poke was to see if you were still alive.

    She sat on your head for several reasons:

    (1) To be sure noone else tried to take away her meal.
    (2) To wait until you were completely disabled before beginning to feed.

    The position on your head allowed easier hearing of your breath sounds, not to mention access to the soft, juicy bits such as eyes and tongue.

    Felines are smart enough to know that if the human who imprisons them dies, starvation will follow. They’re ALSO smart enough to recognize that an average-size human can keep a cat alive for a long time — certainly long enough for other humans to show up and effect their kitteh-escape.



    PS: My word-verification is “X-Ream”. Relevant? You be the judge…

  20. You make me feel so lucky that mine hit me when I was awake.
    However you know those fluffy toilet seat covers that some women insist on, like my land lady. Just as I was hovering down the lid flopped a micro second before containment failure. If the dog or one of the cats had been handy I would have used it for the wipe up.

  21. What the Dog left out was that his head landed, not on the floor, but in Ittycat’s litterbox, whereupon said cat promptly tried to bury it. Gives new meaning to shit-for-brains.
    And Dog worries about the paramedics telling the story of the circumstances? LOLOLOL!!!!!

  22. Rule 65: If I must have computer systems with publically available terminals, the maps they display of my complex will have a room clearly marked as the Main Control Room. That room will be the Execution Chamber. The actual main control room will be marked as Sewage Overflow Containment.

    Sadly Mr. Lawdog, you appear to have failed to incorporate said Sewage Overflow Containment facility properly else Bubba9000, your computer in the Lawdog Fortress of Solitude and other fun stuff, wouldn’t have had to inform you of the said failure.

    Fortunately, we do have a fine team of specialist that can fix this problem for the paltry sum of *mumble mumble* and one left or right arm, depending on which hand you use least.

    You have to keep the cat however, going cross eyed when you sneeze would prevent the accurate attachment via the four claws in the air manuever of our normal targets.

    *hehe…hope you get to feeling better bud*

  23. The stomach flu is awful. It hits you like a freight train. You’ll be feeling fine, feeling fine, then at some later point (often the oh-dark-thirty) you’ll wake up to gurgling in the tummy. Unlike normal indigestion, that gurgling is increasing. You can see the needles in the control room of your mind go from green, right through yellow, blow past the red and head all the way for the stops.

    Then you hurl. Everything you ate for the past five days. The first time. That phase tends to last for about 3 hours for me.

    Then comes phase two. Fits right in with “number two.” That lasts another few hours.

    Then you just feel like hell for another 24-36 hours or so. From fine to crap back to fine in about 48 hours. It’s one funky sickness.

  24. cats… we’ve just taken in two male kittens that were about to be put down for the “crime” of being homeless at 8 weeks old. “frodo” and “romeo”. its amusing to watch a full grown female pit bull back off when a fluffy little kitten spits and hisses at her. now we’ve got to teach her not to steal from the kitten’s food dishes and all will be well.
    (p.s. the verification word reads like something you might see in a pill bottle… “pyvavoxi”).

  25. Had a similar experience with food poisoning. I remember being literally in awe of the amount the human body can evac and with the force behind it, when the next thing I know is my wife is standing over me saying “I have 911 on the phone!”

    Can you say Vasovagal syncope?


  26. Oh yeah. The recoil from projectile vomiting blew me right off my knees, and left a vertical pattern that started in the bowl and ended on the ceiling. The next couple days are a bit blurry. I was expecting to find an imprint of a license plate across my gut, I hurt so bad.
    Fortunately, that wasn’t the time the cat mis-landed, and took the seat and lid with her as she fell into the bowl. Clean TidyBowl Blue water in it. I had to lift her out and rinse and shampoo her. She seemed to be in shock, as she didn’t fight my ministrations at all. Good object lesson on why the lid should be down at all times: Kitty might not be so accommodating next time!

  27. That cat was guarding all the meat!

    Seriously, I hope you’re feeling better. The worst parts of stomach flu pass quickly, but it can leave you feeling oogy for days.

    We would hear more of the dancing aramdillo boxers, my precious, o yes….

  28. Ittycat sitting on LD’s head? Where is a camera when you need one? It would’ve been the perfect LOLcat!

  29. Uggh. Though when you said “multiple points of exit”, the image brought to mind was one time when I was at my aunt’s place, I woke up from a deep sleep in similar condition and all I can say is, thanks be to Great Ghu the cat’s litter box was in front of the toilet because I was spewing from both ends simultaneously. I thought you’d passed out in a puddle of vomit, as well, so I couldn’t understand why the cat would be willing to be anywhere near your head.


  30. You realize I will have the image of a pink gorilla wearing yellow armadillo boxers in my head for a long time.

  31. My sympathies……….. limited only by the fact that reading this while eating & drinking means I now need a new keyboard………. I think I can salvage my monitor with careful application of alcowipes…..

    Get well soon!

    Cats? We have one that used to herd four young Alsatians into a corner for sport….. and all gods have mercy on the pup that tried to eat from her dish!

  32. I had a bout with flu many years ago. My bedroom was on the second floor, the bathroom on the first. I did a thundering herd run down the stairs and across the short hall to the bathroom and nearly made it. I lost everything in the first projectile vomit more or less in the direction of the hall rug. After heaving my toenails into the commode, I re-entered the hallway to survey the damages. Standing spraddle-legged on the rug was our Siamese Tomcat, festooned with the products of my focused heave. He was absolutely horrified and frozen in place. He did not object in the least to the indignity of that bath but never looked at me quite the same.

  33. I read this while eating lunch at my desk (bad habit, I know). You owe my employer a new keyboard.

    Hope you feeling better now.

  34. LD and Maxdrive I’ll let the two of you slpit the cost of a new keyboard, please mail it to

    p.o. box 1315
    fulton, Tx 78358


  35. Dog, you gotta talk to your mother about umm.. filling in? the details of your adventures in the comments. I’m glad I read this first, then ate, because scraping turkey sammich off the walls is kind of a drag 😉

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