Last night was Elvis's first night of sleeping on the bed, instead of in his crate.
I fully expected to wake up this morning and find a hole chewed through the sheet, the blanket, the pillow, or any combination thereof.
What I did <span style="font-style: italic">not</span> expect was to wake up an hour and a half early to the sound of Elvis puking RIGHT BY MY EAR.
He threw up a large chunk of grass. I guess he ate it when hubby took him outside with him at 6:30 while getting the kid on the bus. I tossed the pillowcase in the laundry. He went back to sleep, I didn't.