dooce: Death to Ed

I was reading the above entry (yes, I’m behind again in my blog reading) and the part where she asked her doctor if she could keep the removed cancer spot reminded me about the time we had our dog neutered.

One of his nuts was genetically deformed and hadn’t dropped completely, so they had to go in and surgically remove it, which created a slightly more complicated procedure than your average neuter. He had to wear a cone to keep him from licking the wound and it got all inflamed and red and was really bothering him.

I mean red to the point that, while home alone with him that night, I actually thought I was seeing blood puddle below his skin and became convinced that he was bleeding internally (ignore the part where I thought the blood would be red under the skin instead of blue…my dog’s life was in danger, I wasn’t thinking clearly). So I (gently) threw him in the car and rushed him to the nearest Pet Emergency Clinic where the on-duty vet laughed at me with his European accent and informed me that I was too stupid to own a dog, that there was nothing wrong with this perfectly normal sewn-up gash in my child’s dog’s rear. He then charged me $75 for the service and sent me home poor and humiliated. I didn’t tell J about that night (and I tell J EVERYTHING), and I didn’t intend to, until he was going through some papers on the desk and wanted to know why we had a receipt for $75 at the Emergency Vet Care Clinic.

But my humiliation really wasn’t the point of this story when I embarked on it. I hate getting distracted like that - why does it always end up with my discussing something embarassing?

Probably because I have a lot of embarassing moments. When I was in 6th grade, I came up with a coping mechanism for all those times I suffered the complete mortification of watching my entire life melt before my eyes. It seems I was habitually finding myself in the situation of having just done something incredibly dumb that would follow me the rest of my life and ensure that I would be home alone watching Saved by the Bell re-runs on Prom night.

When I found the entire world flogging me with the STARE in the aftermath of one of those moments, I would mentally spell “Embarassing” three times and by the time I got through the third spelling, the moment had usually passed enough that I could pull myself up off the ground and continue on my way, stopping every once in a while to pick up the pieces of my shattered self esteem.

About a year later, I came to the realization that I had actually been misspelling the word.

But I’m getting distracted again.

So when we went to pick up our poor, wounded, decapacitated puppy from the clinic after his surgery, they explained the procedure and why he had stitches and a cone and what we needed to do to care for him.

Then they held up his testacle in a plastic bag and asked us if we wanted to keep it.

And we’re like, are you NUTS? (Ba-dum-ching!)

Thank you, thank you very much. I’ll be here all week.

Something I’m Enjoying Right Now
Wendy’s Frosty

Something I’m Resenting Right Now
Calories in said Wendy’s Frosty

Something I’m Realizing Right Now
The cat’s claws need trimming.  As I think about it, they have needed trimming for some time now.  I have vague recollections of the dog yelping and dragging the cat around by his paw, due to a claw lodged firmly in his lip.  And we did come home a couple of times over the past several days to find the cat hanging from his scratching post, stuck in limbo half-way up the cat-tree.  But now…now the true realization that the cat must have his claws trimmed today has really hit me.  Because now…NOW these very long, sharp needle-like claws are digging themselves into my leg.  With the utmost of affection, of course.  But if I were to get up and walk away right now, the cat would come with me whether he meant to or not.

Something That’s Worrying Me Right Now
Button is growing out of her car seat.  This concerns me greatly because the next size of car seat does not physically fit inside our 2-door coupe.  Actually, the current car seat only sort of fits - the passenger seat must be moved forward as far as it can go…fortunately I’m relatively short but I’m the only person who can fit in the passenger seat when the car seat is installed.

So…in the near future if we plan to take our daughter anywhere, we will have to purchase a new car…which means a car payment.  We don’t currently have a car payment and are having a hard time figuring out exactly how the logistics of that are going to work.

Some Advice I Can Give Right Now
You know how sometimes you’re walking around the house and get a little piece of dirt or something stuck to the bottom of your foot…and then you just wipe it off on the back of your leg or the top of your other foot?

Make sure you check first to be sure it’s not a random shard of GLASS.  Because ouch.

My daughter has a massaging lounge chair.  I’m not kidding, it actually has little massage nodes that go up and down her back while it vibrates and plays soothing music.

I don’t have a massaging lounge chair.  I have a rocking chair that squeaks when it rocks.  I have a lawn chair that capsizes when I breath on it, which I can’t use anyway because it’s approximately 450° outside.  And I have something that vibrates, but it’s not quite the same.

My dog went to the spa today.  They bathed him, groomed him, manicured his nails and dressed him up for a night on the town in a sharp blue bandana.  Then they shined his teeth up and spritzed him with “Timmy Holedigger Dog Cologne.”* He’s totally ready for the red carpet.

I went to work today.  I sat hunched over a computer for eight hours without a lunch break.  I worked on a tedious project that required reviewing the same 5 minutes of material OVER. And OVER. And OVER.  My makeup has faded off, my shoulders are cramped and my head hurts.

And I just got another call on my cell phone, thanks to a CERTAIN BOSS WHO THINKS IT’S APPROPRIATE TO GIVE OUT EMPLOYEES’ PERSONAL PHONE NUMBERS TO RANDOM CUSTOMERS.

Sigh.  If there are any masseuses out there who want to join my pity party, admission is free.

Fortunately, thanks to J, that particular person will probably never call my cell phone again.  Heh.

*Get it?  Like Tommy Hilfiger?  Ha.  I don’t even want to know how long they sat around thinking THAT one up.  

Now that she’s crawling, Button has more of a propensity to play with the dog.  He’s not quite sure what to do about it.

She will make her way over to him while he’s napping and attack his tail.  He jumps up like somebody just stuck a shock rod in his butt.  Knowing that if he even thinks about being malicious toward her that we will string him up by his tail and pull every piece of fur from his body one-by-one, his only recourse is to take his frustrations out by licking her face VERY ENTHUSIASTICALLY.

Which, of course, she loves. 

He keeps wanting her to play tug with him though.  He’ll bring the toy over and try to put it in her mouth.  When she finally grabs it with her hand, he starts to tug but gets a “warning” from me.  So he pouts and plays gently until she drops the toy and goes after his ears…at which point he looks at me like “I can’t teach it ANYTHING!”  and runs away.  She watches him retreat with great disappointment.

I think this is going to be a lifelong friendship.

So…five minutes before we really need to leave, we let the dog outside for ONE LAST QUICK TRIP just to make sure we don’t come home to any unfortunate surprises.

And he decides that THIS is the right time for sunbathing.  It’s like 400° outside but he absolutely refuses to come back in.

Did you know terds have 4 legs and fur?