I got home from EFRC Sunday less tired that sometimes lately (I didn't have trouble finishing the drive home), but after I ate some dinner, checked email and LJ, and started writing my report, fatigue hit. I decided I wanted to take a nap. And then I realized that Meg was looking fat and seemed slightly distressed, which had me just starting to worry that she might be bloated, when I realized that Windy was also looking unnaturally fat. I suspected they'd gotten into some illicit food. I went out in the yard and discovered a pile of dog food in the corner that's convenient to Don and Shirley's house. I haven't had a chance to talk to them, but I had noticed late last week that Gus' (their rottweiler) run was standing open, with no sign of Gus around. I have a bad feeling that something bad happened to Gus, and that Don "helpfully" got rid of the excess dog food by dumping it where mine could eat it. Unfortunately, while Gus, in a most un-dog-like fashion, would only eat as much food as he actually needed when confronted with a pile of food, my mals (like most dogs) will eat unto distress. I didn't think their conditions were serious, but they did keep me from actually getting the nap that I was trying to take.
I finally got to sleep around 4 AM, and slept until after noon, and managed to get up but felt completely listless. Around midafternoon, I realized that Windy was having a bloody, snotty discharge from his nose and was going to have to see the vet. I couldn't get him there today (that is Monday), but I will have to get him to someone who can, at least, get him on a regimen of antibiotics tomorrow. I really hope that will help him, because I really don't need a big expensive vet bill right now.
I also need to talk to my neighbors and (a) find out about Gus and probably express my condolences, and (b) explain that it is Not Cool to dump half a bag of dog food into my yard where my guys will eat themselves sick. And I suspect that I'll have to leave my guys with Jim and Robin (the breeder) this weekend, rather than having the neighbors feed them, because (a) if they just lost their dog it would be cruel to ask them to take care of mine, and (b) if Windy's on meds I need someone who will be a little more conscientious about getting them to him.
All of this stuff, combined with what I need to admit is depression, kept me from writing my EFRC report or the book review I'm about to post until now.