a cute little parasite

The other day Hubby was giving the kids a bath upstairs and I was enjoying quiet computer time when Max the Pug walked over and quietly puked at my feet.  Hubby is the one who is better able to tolerate cleaning up puke without gagging on the fumes, but since I tolerate the dog more than he, I took it upon myself to pick up the chunks and disinfect the area.  But I waited a few minutes.  Because while I can barely handle puke, I certainly can’t handle warm puke, even if I am only touching it through a paper towel.

After a few more minutes of blog reading I went to the kitchen and came back to the living room armed with paper towels, a plastic bag, and carpet cleaner.  I got down on the floor to begin when I noticed a white, spiral something in the dog’s puke.  With the corner of a paper towel I poked it and it moved.  Not from the force of the paper towel, but of its own volition.  I called Hubby downstairs.

Our little pug had worms.  Luckily for us, the very next day he was already scheduled for time with Hubby’s dad The Vet to become a pug eunuch.  So Max got more treatment than expected this weekend.

I fretted that the kids could get worms, too.  They obviously haven’t been outside in bare feet since we got the dog, and I won’t let them play in the yard in bare feet even when it’s warmer, but Little Missy is always all over that dog — giving him hugs and kisses and lying in his dog bed with him before we find her and yell at her to get out.  The Internet, which is never wrong, said that unless they’re eating dirt in his pooping-area they shouldn’t get the worms.  We all know Little Missy doesn’t eat anything, and I’m not worried about G, so hopefully we’ll all remain worm-free.