I have officially turned into a cat lady, except I don’t have cats. Instead I have a dog with a Twitter account. Yup, Daisy is online.
She’s a naughty little puggy with far too much free time. If you’re on Twitter follow her. If you’re not on Twitter I promise you that it’s worth signing up for. Where else are you going to hear about a pug violating a Bill Clinton doll?
I TOLD YOU SHE WAS NAUGHTY.
Now let’s pray she doesn’t write about all that farting she does.
I woke up today completely exhausted and for a split second considered stealing the Starbucks gift cards so I could overdose on coffee. But I didn’t. PLEASE SEND A TROPHY FOR MY SELFLESS BEHAVIOR NOW!
Thanks to everyone who entered! It was fun and I hope to have giveaways once a month. The winners are comment #10: Erin, and comment #81: Felicity. Congratulations bitches!
Now back to regularly scheduled Friday afternoon activities, which for me means watching the clock and thinking about an evening with a bottle of wine on my couch. I am a party animal, and you know you’re jealous.
To read this week’s “That’s What She Said” you can download the PDF here, or read it on the In Utah This Week website here.
Insert your own cute and clever comments here. I’m far too busy screaming obscenities at Excel spreadsheets to do it myself. Homework is the bane of my existence. And your mom.
Daisy apparently didn’t get the memo that I went back to school and am working part-time. She thinks expensive medicals tests are a hobby. They so, so aren’t.
The vet clinic didn’t get the memo that a vodka tonic is the epitome of a refreshing drink. As for me? Well I didn’t get the memo that when the receptionist asks you if you would like a refreshing drink she means a warm Sprite, not a bottle of vodka and straw. Another refreshing drink is champagne, which should always be served immediately after informing a worried dog owner that her beloved pug is cancer-free. Daisy does, however, have a a sludge-filled gallbladder, major food allergies and irritable bowel syndrome.
The vet called her a little shit for giving us such a scare. I called the vet a big shit when he told me to keep an ass journal for Daisy. Apparently he’d like to read about the consistency of Daisy’s feces while enjoying a nightcap with his wife. I’d much rather get him a subscription to an interesting magazine, but whatever floats his boat, and keeps my dog alive.
While I’m thrilled there’s nothing serious wrong with her, I’m realistic enough to know we’re in for the long haul here. Daisy’s disgusting farts aren’t going anywhere. And neither is my love for her, although my savings account is. My fart filled apartment has never felt more like home. I’m happy to have the little shit back, but if anyone has any information on the market for one-eyed pug porn let me know. Daisy needs a job. And preferebly one with health benefits.
I really need a dose of positivity right now, hence today’s Grace in Small Things post.
1 Receiving Valentine’s Day cards in the mail
2 Reese’s Puffs breakfast cereal
3 Clean sheets
4 My niece, Hannah, agreeing to take me to Starbucks
I dropped Daisy off at the vet clinic early this morning for a day of tests. I’ve put this off as long as I could, but it’s time to admit to myself that she’s sick, and NOT getting better. The vet has been treating her with antibiotics on and off for the past year, but sadly it’s not helping.
I’m hoping today will provide some answers about what’s going on. This dog is my kid, and I need her to be OK. I’m scared, but forcing myself to remain positive. Positive thinking apparently includes calling the clinic every single hour to check on her. I’m that dog owner.
