Friday, August 16, 2013

Craptastic week

When this girl doesn’t even touch food, 
you know there’s a problem!

 No, not me… her. 
Although, it could have been me! 
 Don’t be embarrassed for making that connection first! 

 I came home Tuesday to piles of dog vomit in the dining room; 
the largest with undigested food; 
then concentric smaller ones with just bile.  
(You DO read this blog for a touch of getting real, don’t you?) 

An interior, dog owner version of crap crop circles. 

 And when Oreo didn’t go near her food that night – 
or the next morning - 
I knew she was the culprit.

A quick trip to drop her off at the Vets for the day yesterday 
so they could diagnose her 
led to confirmation of my diagnosis – 
intestinal blockage. 

Visions of the doc 
pulling a pair of my granny panties 
out her gut 
had me temporarily mortified 
but a three hour surgery 
actually discovered 
pieces of a chew toy, 
fishing line, 
grass 
and animal bone. 
A bezoar of the bizarre – 
considering I don’t own any fishing tackle – 
where the hell did THAT come from? 

 It’s only money…
the refrain I keep hearing 
over and over again –  
and, of course, everyone is right; 
it is. 

Only, truth be told, 
I can think of a multitude of other ways 
I’d rather spend $2000.00!

 Almost 2000 other ways, in fact! 

Damn.

No comments: