Oh, The Joy of Having Dogs

So, as we all know, my dog's are like my damn kids. Pretty much the same for all those who have a dog(s) and no kids yet. Things prob will change when I do have real kids, but until then, my dogs seem to be sufficing. This was their last week in life, with two lovely catastrophe's.
#1) Rob picks me up from class last Friday afternoon, and he has the dogs in the car with him, 'cuz he just picked them up from playing in the backyard at grandma's (his mom's) house. We bring them home and give Harley a bone and Diesel usually stands eagerly around her head trying to get the scraps. Well, today she is having nothing to do with the bone activity, and is simply sitting in the middle of the carpet staring off in a daze. Not totally unusual, but yes, a bit. Next, Rob calls her to jump on the couch with him, and she just looks at him, and then she begins to sort of tremor. At this point, I am involved in eating my lunch, and am not paying much attention. Rob, however, being the doting father of the little shit (a.k.a. Diesel), is very concerned. He asks me, "babe, is she okay? Isn't she acting funny?" To which I reply, "I don't know, why? What's she doing?" I look up from my sandwich and don't see anything too major, so I go back to eating. Next, Rob proceeds to see if she will jump up on his lap on the couch (this is usually her favorite thing while they watch football all Saturday). She just looks at him and then turns away. Now he's really concerned and gets on the floor with her, but she's just not into it. My sandwich is now consumed and I begin to observe. She's still shaking, but not siezuring, so I'm not sure what to think. Well, we haven't quite caught on yet, so she deems it necessary to make it very clear...
She promptly marches to the middle of the living room carpet and vomits. Rob is sort of in shock (myself as well, because in her three years of life she has never vomited. Harley, she vomits all the time, but not this one), and asks how to clean it. Well, being the veteran vomiting dog owner that I am, I simply get the dust pan (don't let the dog eat the vomit, it's gross, and they always seem to try) and begin to slide it under and get the big stuff (if you are ever in this situation, a flat edge under the mass is the best beginning step). Once the dust pan contents were flushed down the toilet (after observing them, of course, to make sure nothing is out of the ordinary), and the soaking up with just normal paper towels begins. Basically, we got it all cleaned up and she begins to heave again. At this point, I scream (always scares the dogs, but that's the idea, so that they suck it back in for a minute and you can grab them), and the pick-her up and take her to the tile where she can vomit and it is much easier to clean. Alright, two down, you might think that's it, but it's not...Two more times after each prior cleaning. Well, now that's weird and her tremoring has still not gone away, in fact it's worse. At this point, I'm thinking poison or something that she's gotten into in the backyard. However, she's out there quite frequently and usually nothing occurs. We take her to the vet anyway (at Rob's pushing), and he does the normal checks (Ya know, everything you do at home to make sure they're still alive like temperature taking, feeling the stomach and making sure it's soft, color in the gums comes back for dehydration, heart beat, etc.) Well, she checks out fine (surprise, as we already determined that before we went, but had to pay someone to confirm it). The vet asks if she's eaten anything. We say not that we know of. He asks what the vomit looked like. We respond nothing abnormal, just the normal digested food at the first and then into the foamy bile when there's not much left (that's the normal cycle). He gives us some anti-vomit stuff, says take it easy and $95 later, we're on our way having gotten really nothing except no more carpet stains out of the visit. Well, she doesn't want dinner or her treat in her crate, weird, but she's got an upset stomach, so prob normal. Well, next morning the tremors are back and I let her out of her crate and she's goes straight to her bed in the living room. This is NOT normal, as normal path involves a first stop in the kitchen for breakfast. Well, she won't eat breakfast and she hasn't drank anything in over 24 hours. At this point, I drain the tuna juice out of a tuna can to see if she wants that. Nope. Next, gatorade. Nope. Okay, so not any better, and pretty much looking worse.
At this point I call Rob to have him go check the backyard (obvs. It's not too poisonous whatever it is, because she is still alive after 24 hours, but perhaps it'd be good to know anyway). His response after he checks: "Well, nothing really odd or out of place but there is this purple liquid sort of stuff on the concrete." My response, "Well, what the F* is the "purple stuff" babe? (In my head, I prob would have figured it out prior to calling. At any rate, he goes back in to determine that it is Moonsand. For those of you not familiar, it is modern day play-doh (like wet sand feeling in different colors that you can mold, etc.). I get on the internet to see what it contains. I find it is non-toxic to kids on almost all sites, and that's good, but I also find a handful of sites saying that dog's love it (of course they would, it's nasty)and when they eat it they often end up getting intestinal blockage and have to have surgery. Well, that's great.
Okay, intestinal block. Doesn't seem like it, she's been pooping. Perhaps the block is farther up in her tract and she's clearing out what's below it. Still peeing, breathing, no eating. Well, let's give it a while. Call my mom, she's been scarred by the loss of too many dogs from random things and says go to the vet. Call the vet first to see if there is really any need for concern if she's still pooping, etc. Of course, they say better come in and make sure it's all good. So in we go five hours later, 'cuz she's still not normal, and this time she checks out good, but better do an x-ray for blockage potential. X-ray comes back pretty normal except there is quite a bit of something in her stomach (yes, prob moonsand, although unfortunately bright purple does not show up on x-rays)and she's hasn't eaten, so not really normal. Well, something else for laxative sort of stuff, and we're on our way to make sure she poops purple for the next couple of days, and we should be good. Well, two purple poops later that day, and we're golden. The little shit is just fine, but she'll never eat moonsand again. If she's stupid enough to try, I'm not stupid enough to let her.
#2) The day after Diesel feels better, we go to the park for our normal walk. They are off the leashes because Harley loves to run. Well, Harley makes her normal rounds along the duck pond and then I notice she is taking a while, at which point I look through the bushes to see she has found something (obvs. foul and god-awful) to roll in. I begin to yell at her and move closer...she's not moving...Up and roll one side, up and roll the other, roll, roll. Okay, now I'm pissed 'cuz the longer the roll, the nastier the shit must be. Well, at this point she has gotten enough of it, and comes back over near us. The cloud of stench that follows is indescribable. To the point where we are kicking at her to stay away, and fearing we may gag or vomit. Now the walks over and we have to put her in the car. I kid you not, windows all down, and sweatshirt covering my nose and mouth, my eyes are still watering and I'm dry heaving.
The discussion turns to who gets to wash her, and unfortunately I get the short straw (Rob is usually awesome and always does it, but seeing as how bad it was, and they are my dogs, I couldn't expect him to have to). Next, gameplan on how to get her upstairs and in the tub ASAP. Rob is going to take the dogs (harley not on a leash, as we can't fathom touching her), and lock her in the bathroom as soon as he gets in, after taking off her collar and soaking it. I will follow (the stench even in the open air stairway is quite apparent, even though I'm a good 50 yds. behind), get on my rubber gloves, and put on my nasty clothes to go put her in the tub and clean her. I am prepared and arrive to open the bathroom door, however, as I swing it open, I catch myself mid-dry-heaving and now need some sort of a mask (mind you we did have the fan on and she had only been in there less than a minute or two). After getting the mask (bandanna around my face) I am ready to face the beast and in I go. Well, we got it taken care of, and four shampoo/condition sessions later, she almost smells non-rancid again.
Oh the joy of having two lovely little life companions to keep my otherwise routine life just a little interesting!