Yesterday morning Alfie's morning routine had an extra step. Or two.
The usual - wake up, scoot downstairs, go outside for morning potty break, have breakfast, interfere with dad getting ready for work.
Yesterday - wake up, scoot downstairs, go outside for morning potty break, have breakfast, go sit on landing on stairs, puke, wait for dad to clean it up, watch dad clean it up, saunter back down to kitchen, puke again, wait for dad to clean it up.
Sure, puppies puke. Let's face it, they are basically walking garburators, eating anything and everything that crosses their path as they explore the world. And they can't exactly clean up after themselves.
My favourite part was when Alfie puked then calmly and sweetly looked up at me, as though saying"Okay, Dad, what are you going to do about this?". He is not going to clean it up, he is not going to eat it like a certain beagle would, so there I go, doing what needs to be done. And then following behind and cleaning up vomit number two...
At least one of us is well trained!