Stop Mooching!

I bet he thinks his real name is “Fucking Dog”!

Every time we sit to eat, he’s at your feet, anticipating dropped crumbs. Ready in an instant to lick ‘em up.

I hate the way he sounds when he’s scrounging on the floor for crumbs.

Like he’s going to town. Slurp, slurp, suck, slurp, sip, grunt, harumph, burp.

He’s always there when a drop falls. Milk, oil, water, acid. Like he never gets fed. Or given fresh water every few farking minutes.

He farts. Smelly, dog food farts.

He humps everything in site. We call it ’schweening’. It creeps me out. He’s fixed by the way.

He’s started stealing Fa’s toys and running away with them so we chase him around the house screaming bloody murder.

I hate it.

Fa loves it. I think he does too.

I call him “The Mooch”. And I yell “Stop Mooching!” at him and she keels over laughing.

Cracks up. Hysterical.

She loves this dog.

He makes her so happy. Even when he’s annoying the crap out of her.

He potty trained her. Remember that?

He’s teaching her how to write too.

He loves this kid.

He protects her and growls when anyone comes near her. Especially me.

Whenever we are playing with Fa, wrestling, attacking her with smooches and she starts to yell…He goes nuts!

He is a pretty good watch dog when he wants to be. Anytime someone comes to the door or even walks past the house, he barks and growls, letting me know.

He hates the firehouse and when it goes off, he howls. His pendulous lips actually forming a little ‘O’.

I hate when he mooches the most. It aggravates me. I think he may be the reason I am so stressed. I’m constantly yelling at him.

But they love each other. A girl and her dog.

How could I ever take that away from her?

Loogit the way he sleeps with his tongue hanging out. He needs dental work.

Now if only he would calm down like this when we try to pet him.

Whaddya think?

IF and I mean IF I were to dress up the dog for Halloween…which one should I chose?

‘Skunk RT’…He does have stinky ass glands that need to be drained tri-monthly.
Skunk!

‘Pumpkin RT’…He may just wear this.
Looks comfy enough?

‘Rock Lobster RT’…I could throw him in a pot afterwards…
Who’d eat that?

‘Jailbird RT’…he’s usually locked up anyways…He may feel at home.
(Oh, stop…he’s not ALWAYS locked up….you should see the drool covered couches as proof)

‘Farmer Ted RT’…Too cute.
I love the suspenders!

‘Bessie the Cow RT’…He’d be color coordinated.
All the while, running from Fa who’d be wanting to ‘milk’ him.

‘Carney Caller RT’…he does have a loud yap.
And he is annoying enough.

‘Here Comes the Bride RT’…Nuthin’ like a cross-dressin’ dawg.
He’d look mahvelous.

‘Biker Dude RT’…My all time fave.
Ruff and tuff.

‘Asian RT’…love the braid!
And look at that face? How come RT doesn’t sit this long?

Who am I kiddin’ I ain’t dressin’ up no dog for Halloween.

These are cute ideas though.
But I better not, he’s already depressed about the idea! C’mon out boy, I’m only kidding.

Update on the dog

He’s got a skin rash/allergy.

We got our couches cleaned a few weeks ago and I think the chemicals they used effected him and his sensitive skin…He has little red bumps all over his body, neck to tail. He’s literally jumping out of his skin.

He bit Fa today because she went to go pet his back. That was the last straw.

We took him to the vet.

He’s on an antihistamine and antibiotic. 3x a day.

I fucking love having a dog.

Let’s do this mathematically, in 15 months I have spent:

$1500.00 for initial purchase of the dog on July 9, 2006
$15.00 Pet Tracking System Yearly fee
$80.00 Initial pet visit 7/31 2006
$166.70 First round vaccines/antibitotics for Giardia/Vet Visit 8/7/06
$200.00 Second round vaccines/Giardia Vaccine/Vet Visit 9/11/06
$500.00 for three months of last option Giardia regiment/New Vet Visit 10/2/06
$300.00 Vaccines and vomiting and diarrhea treatment 12/15/07
$330.00 Vet Follow up after Giardia Treatment/Vaccines 1/2/07
$270.00 Vet visit on 4/17 (1st full yearly vaccines and check up)
$670.00 Emergency ass drainage 7/22/07
$174.00 Vacation Boarding 9/4/07
$215.00 Allergy visit and meds 10/22/07
$65.00 every three months for flea and tick and heartworm meds

Go ahead…add it up…I just can’t find it in me to actually do the calculations…I may vomit.

Wonder Woman and Sickly Dog

My bloggin’ bud Chelle is making my head swell.

She gave me this:“The Wonder Woman Award”

All that, after she gave me these:
I mean, c’mon…How much more can a gal take?

I’m gonna go and help her move to Canada myself if she keeps this up!

I actually thought about being Wonder Woman for Halloween…But I have no place to go this year. Just taking Fa to trick or treat…Amazing how the years have mellowed. And I am far from Wonder~ous these days.

I think I’m supposed to tag a bunch of people for this..but I am a little distraught today..(yet again) so I am gonna just give this award to “The Shake Shake Queen” because she is a true Wonder Woman in my eyes.

***

Saturday night was yummy. Sushi. And Asahi. My two favorite things. It couldn’t be a MNO because I was the only M.

This Saturday, the M’s are gonna try again. Wish us luck and pray for a crisp, cool, inclement weather free night!

***

RT is sick. Again.

This time, it’s not his bunghole. It seems to be his back. We were out all day yesterday and when we got home at night he was breathing funny and lethargic. The vet said to give him aspirin and see if he feels better. He’s still not himself this morning.

Fucking Puppy Mill…I swear I just found out the place we got him is a puppy mill and I truly think he’s defective…I’m sick to death over the poor research skills I implemented to find a dog. I admit. I am an ass. And I don’t feel like “Wonder Woman” when it comes to the dog.

Animal Rights, keep your comments to yourself…If anything, I rescued him from that shit-hole and now my guilt is pouring out of my wallet, so you can all just shut the fuck up.

I have to take him to the vet…again…ca~ching…and see what he thinks.

I hate to sound so concerned for my wallet here, but I am in a single income home and we paid an initial fortune for a dog that was supposed to be a healthy, pure breed. I have spent thousands in sick vet bills alone…forget his yearly and his shots and his food and his vitamins and his tick and flea regiment…I mean, c’mon already.

I may have to go back to work just to take care of the dog.

Again, bite me, animal rights…I’m not in the mood.

I may be back, I may not. Don’t wait around for me…I may be at work.

For Terri

This post is especially for Terri.
She is always asking how the mutt is doing so I snapped some pictures for her…
If any of you know the saga of the asshole dog. You’ll know he’s one wild and crazy guy.

Well, he’s officially 18 months old now. And I think the tales of ‘calm dog at 18 months’ are true.

This is mostly what he does all day. This and drool.

Unless of course, Fa is trying to pry his orifices open with something long and preferably sharp.

Yeouch!

Did you call me?
Leave me alone. Please.

Aw, man. Not again.

Can’t a guy get some rest around here?

Can we please get rid of this pain in the bunghole of a 3+ year old?
Please? Pretty Please?

Oh! And most importantly, Happy National Coffee Day!
I’ll drink an extra 19 cups just for the special occasion.

Bored much?

I’m having a ball on FaceBook.

I gave out drinks, tattoos, all sorts of crazy stuff. Can you tell I’m looking for some fun?

I’m bored.

***

I changed RT’s food. The pet store (hmmm) claimed that this new “natural” stuff will make his crap harder and more manageable (read: easier to pick up)…and less, uhm less…of it. Yeah right. He’s shitting all over my house again. Like a fucking over caffeinated horse! Ugh. What the hell happened?

I followed the switch-over rule:
70% Old food mixed with 30% new food for the first two days.
50/50 for the next two days.
30% old food mixed with 70% new food for the next two days.
and 100% new food from then on out…

He’s a crap machine.

(But it is easier to pick up …. IN the HOUSE)

What do I do?

***

I can’t stop singing and thinking RENT. I am obsessed. How do I get it outta my head? Any suggestions?

***

Fa’s been waking up in the middle of the night because she “doesn’t want to be alone”! I am so tired. She’s afraid of the dark. This has been an issue for a while now, but she’s been sleeping. Now, it’s a screetching call for me in the middle of the night and I lay with her for a ’song’ then go back to bed. Sounds simple enough…But it’s happening 3-4 times a night.

I need a nap.

I’m not good on limited sleep.

Plus I’m still off from Saturday’s adventures.

***

Fa’s been dry in the daytime for a month now. She’s got this potty thing down. At night it’s a different story, but she rocks the daytime man!

Go Fa!

Gotta love dry panties!

***

I go for my sonohysterogram tomorrow. Wish me luck. I’ll need it. I’m very nervous. Catheters and my cervix don’t mix well.

Never have, never will.

And I hate the table…oh! and don’t even get me started on the probe! Gah. I wanna vomit every time I think about it.

I still haven’t heard about my Lumpy Boob yet. Maybe I should call the gyno today? hmm. Ya think?

***

We’re going out to dinner tonight because The Pro’s cousin is in from Australia. That should be fun. I like his cousin. He’s so nice. He sounds like these guys. And Fa likes him because of that.

I have to really strain to listen to him talk…but he says the same thing about me. Hmmm. I don’t have a New Yawk accent! (*snort*)

***

I’m stressed. Over everything. Can you tell?

Wanna come over for a drink? I had the best margarita on Saturday..I’m in the mood for another.

If you made it this far, you are invited.

Anal Bunghole Blah Blah Blah….

He’s home, poor boy.

He’s topped off with his cone/lampshade. He’s still sedated.
Yes, that’s my lap he’s delirious on. Yes, I am a little relieved. Yes, Fa is happy once again. Yes, this will happen again. And Yes, the only way to prevent it going this far is to bring him in every 3-6 moths for a “draining”!

Apparently, BT’s are prone to anal abcesses in their anal glands. Yummy. And…Figures.

So poor Tartsie needs to rest tonight and I’m sure by tomorrow he’ll be his regular pain in the ass…pardon the pun.

I have to say, I hated seeing Fa sad. All day long. And I felt terribly guilty for wishing bad things on the furniture eater/floor shitter/shit eater.

I have a newfound admiration for the way this kid loves this dog and for the joy he brings her.

I do appreciate him. I really do understand how important he is to her.

I have to deal now.

And no more threatening to get rid of him…It makes her anxious. And now that I saw it almost happen…I don’t want to do that to her again. I felt horrible.

Plus, she’s potty trained. Now, his turn.

If he can get his anal sacs outta the way.

Damn Bunghole.

You see…Be careful for what you wish for people.

R.T. is in the hospital.

He has bunghole issues. Damnit all to hell!

And it’s not even from being poked at…

Actually, it’s not all that serious but who am I to say really…? If I had hangin’ outta my butt what he has hangin’ outta his butt…I might disagree…I might think this was pretty farking serious!

And since it was a Sunday evening, the “ER” was staffed with the vet and….me.
I had to hold the dog while he was examined and put under sedation. What a friggin’ trippy feeling to feel the life leave your pup. Right in your hands. Gah.

I may never yell at him for shitting on my hardwoods again.

I won’t share gory details because really, it’s fucking gross…

Just sayin’. All this time of threatening to get rid of the dog…has backfired.

Fa is beside herself.

She is reeling with anger and frustration and sadness. All because the dog is “sleeping over the Doctor’s Shop”.

And I, dear friends…am riddled with guilt.

She thinks I am evil for letting him go and she thinks I don’t want him and she is pissed with a capital P.

I hope I can get through these next few days…and I hope she doesn’t hate me forever and I hope this doesn’t make her stop using the pot…

…that would really be the icing on the bunghole wouldn’t it?

Poor bunghole.

Poor R.T.

Poor Fa!

******

Update.

I couldn’t sleep all night. I tossed and turned worrying about that stupid dog and of course my poor little heartbroken girl.

I promised her he’d come home last night just to get her to bed…Now, when she wakes up and he isn’t here….oh!

Here’s the plan….shhh…Don’t tell her.
I’m gonna tell her that I picked him up last night and he slept on my couch. But this morning when Daddy went to work he had to drop the dope back at the doctors for more check ups…but we can pick him up in a little while…

Huh? How’s that…How many tears do ya think I’ll get? Do ya think she’ll believe me? Do ya think I’m a heartless wench for lying to my broken hearted baby?

The pain she is going through makes my stomach churn. I’ll do anything to lessen it…don’t judge me.

More later….

*****