Poor little guy.

Sullivan survived his first major illness last week. Dave was off work for the week, which meant I signed up to work a couple of shifts. Fortunately, Dave was home to snuggle and love on him as much as he needed. He had a high fever and threw up a hand full of times, mostly at night. We would go to him and find him on fire and in a crib of vomit. Poor little peanut. His temp was as high as 103.1. We had planned to hit the road on Sunday for the Black Hills, but were talking about postponing unless he felt better. Fortunately, he snapped out of it on Saturday afternoon. Although he was under the weather, he still managed a few smiles for us.

Here is Sully, just as he was starting to feel better.