Pavlov's Dog

Watching my family pass The Cold around for 4 months has made me nothing if not hyper-vigilant. Yes, the boys still have It, but one is now almost well while one is newly sick. I am very much in tune with their every sniff, snort, sigh, cough, moan and rustle. I know when it is time to go upstairs and administer love or medicine, and I know when I can sit downstairs - muscles clenched - to wait it out. Snotty Snotterson and Stuffy McStufferstein have earned their weight in Mother-lesson gold. In fact, I am so in tune with symptoms that I drooled when Pavlov rang his bell tonight.

I was talking to my sister on the phone this evening - after a particulary snotty episode with Foster who was trying (?) to go to sleep - when I realized that Annie was drooling. Not just a little bit either. A lot of drool. Which, even though I basically suck snot out of noses all day long (and feel triumphant about it), totally grossed me out. Then it freaked me out. Yancey had just walked in the back door, so I started motioning to him (while talking on the phone to Katie).....pointing to the dog.....mouthing (sotto voce) "she's drooling....she's Drooling!" Can't you see, man? She's DROOLING! Something is wrong - she's been stung, she's had a stroke, she's going blind! Yancey dutifully walked over, accepted the paper towel I had on standby (I am nothing if not prepared for a symptom), and pronounced Annie........hungry. The two bison burgers he had recently deposited on the counter seemed to have accounted for her drool. Ummmmm. OK. But, if she *had* been suffering from a malady, I would have been ready!