So…the dog. Yea. What an incredible pain in the ass. As if having four kids wasn’t enough. Sometimes I wonder if the big guy upstairs laughs to hisself every once in awhile knowing he’s left all these beings in my charge. I’m so fucking laissze-faire. I’ve got this food allergy that could kill me, and I can’t even take the time to read ingredient labels properly. And I’ve got to care, look after and even raise these beings?!?!? Ha! Now that’s a larf! Well, maybe not so much a larf. Because, I guess, it’s quasi-true. Which brings me to the family mutt.
A few weeks ago, I went home to meet Kelly Marie for lunch. When I pulled up into the driveway, she was already there.
“Honey?” I called out opening the front door. “Daddy’s home.” Get it? See why it’s funny? We don’t live together. It’s the whole juxtaposition of the familiarity of living together with us really not living together. Get it? Look…if I gotta explain the joke to you, it ain’t funny anymore.
“Up here…” I heard her calling out from my bedroom. The way she trailed off, I knew something was up.
“Yea?” I questioned, at the foot of the steps.
“Something’s wrong with the dog.”
Great. This dog is killing me lately. I already had him to the vet a few weeks ago for his right eye. A couple of years ago the dog developed a cataract in the eye. Which over the last few months, looked like it was getting worse. A lot worse. What with the eye bulging out of his head and what looked like blood swirling around in it. That’s all I needed. For that eye to keep on expanding til it finally burst in a mess of blood, pus, eye juice and brain matter. Yea…explain that one to the kids. So…off to the vet we went for another easy 200 dollar visit.
Long story short, it turned out to be the beginning stages of glaucoma with a side of detached retina, just for fun. I won’t even mention the $100 drops I have to put in his eye every 15 seconds to make this whole thing better. Wait. What’s that you say? What’s that noise you hear? Oh…just ignore it. It’s only the big guy laughing at me.
But, back to our story…
“What is it?” I asked.
“Just come here.” Kelly Marie insisted.
I found her sitting on the floor, gently petting the dog’s head. Except for a quick look in my general direction, he wasn’t moving. “I was gonna let him out, when I got here. But, I couldn’t find him.” She explained. “I went through all the rooms.” She nodded to the dog. “This is where I found him. He hasn’t moved since I’ve been here.”
Ok…I’ve got to segue again for a sec. The thing about this dog is that he’s a fucking nut. He can sense you coming from a mile away. Talk about one with the force. And when he’s senses that disturbance in the force? He goes nuts. He just ping pongs between the sofa and love seat. Back and forth. Barking. And he won’t stop until you get in the house and pet him for a reasonable amount of time. And that even applies if you go outside and come back 10 minutes later. The same fucking reaction. So, needless to say…something was clearly wrong.
“What’s wrong, snowflake?” I asked, bending down next to Kelly Marie. Like the dog is gonna answer. (Editor's note: To make this next line more effective, read it using the Emperor's voice.) Oh…I seem to have broken both my front legs jumping off your bed, you stupid moron. What do you think is wrong?
I went to move him to see what was wrong, and he cried. Great. What the hell did he do now? I tried to roll him on his side, more crying. Ugh! What the fuck!
“You gotta take him to the vet.” Kelly Marie said, worried.
Carry on my wayward son, to Pt2
Carry on my wayward son, to Pt2