Me to B: SURE YOU CAN GO TO INDY FOR A LIVE FANTASTY FOOTBALL DRAFT WITH THE GUYS AND I’LL JUST STAY HOME AND WARD OFF DRAGONS AND CLEAN UP POOP AND BLOOD AND MORE POOP ALL BY MYSELF… [SOB*sniffle*SOB] NOIMNOTMADJUSTGO! [SOB*sniffle*SOB]
No really, it’s fine… despite the inevitable disasters that only occur in his absence. Fortunately he was just home for an entire week, during which the only mishaps were a small flood in our hallway and a stray Oscar turd by the front door… Alas, Friday came and B went, and I was left with no lack of excitement, that’s for sure!
Friday night was fairly uneventful. We’d had a busy week and I was exhausted. The dogs were not… but it’s amazing what you’ll miss when you fall into a Benedryl coma. Judging by the number of toys strewn throughout the house when I woke the next morning, I’d say it’s highly probably they threw a doggy rave party and I slept through it all.
My intent was to take them to the park for a bit on Saturday, but it was ungodly hot and humid again so I opted out. And I had some wedding tasks I wanted to tackle with a friend, so… sorry dogs. I guess I should pause here and mention that B finally put a ring on it a couple of weeks ago. Even if it was supposed to be a total surprise
(which it wasn’t), Oscar somehow managed to find the ring receipt and eat it while I showered one morning. I’m not sure if he was trying to ensure the deal would be sealed and there was no way to return the ring, or if he was expressing his displeasure that he would be forever stuck competing with B for my love and affection, thus he ate the receipt in lieu of being able to find and eat the actual ring (which was with B, fortunately!) My money is on the latter…
When I got home on Saturday, I took the boys out to play fetch. Did you know that 74% of the world’s population of mosquitos lives in Charlotte, NC? More specifically, in my neighborhood. Fetch didn’t last long because I was literally being eaten alive by millions upon millions of mosquitos. By the time we reached the front door, I was
just one big, red, itchy welt. I’ll probably die from malaria by next Thursday. And of course I didn’t notice that Nugget’s paw was bleeding until I saw red paw prints all over my beige carpet. Super.
Later that evening, while tripping on some Benedryl, Nugget lost his dinner. Not once. Not twice. THREE times. I’m fairly certain that it actually multiplied in his stomach because what he threw up looked like a whole lot more than what he consumed. The smell was wretched. It took me like an eternity and a half to clean it up because I
couldn’t stop throwing up.
Sunday was Nugget’s birthday. I couldn’t think of a better way to enjoy the day than at the lake. Oh how I sorely regretted that decision. The lake level was down, so the “shore” was basically just mud. Gross, thick, red Carolina mud. I lost one of my favorite flip flops in it. Nugget left all of his tennis balls way out in the water and Oscar cut his paw. So he was bleeding like all over the place. I wrapped a towel around it when we got in the car and the bleeding had stopped by the time we got home. Dog first aid ninja, right here!
Later that night at home, I had some boxes out and was trying to get some things packed. (Oh, I forgot to mention that we’re moving to Boston for B’s work). We have a couple of months, but I wanted to get a start on things. This plan, however, backfired since any hint of foreseeable drastic change totally makes Oscar’s brain short circuit
and he begins peeing and pooping all over the house. I was all like, “Doodle, no! I’m saving a box for you! We’ll bring you with us, don’t worry… I’d never forget to pack you.” He just looked at me all confused … and then peed on the floor again.