Except for when the fucking government is pissing me off more than usual I try and keep it light around here. There are already lots of places for you to read the bad news of the world that is guaranteed to make you feel a little bit better because you are not being tasered or shot at by the police; your teenage daughter is not being gangbanged on You Tube; or your local drinking and driving laws are being tightened up by the Fascists who have replaced their hatred of Jews with a hatred for Booze.
I would have liked to write something even marginally funny this past week but I could not do it. My dog, the Hammer, has been ill. She is just about better now. Dogs are fast healers. When my dog is happy, I am happy.
I think I will have a drink. To my dog's health, to mine and to yours. I guess that is three drinks. Might as well throw away the cork, motherfuckers.
4 comments:
Here's to the health of the Hammer.
Shit, big sigh of relief. You're welcome to my share of the bottle. Allergies, you understand.
So glad to hear the Hammer is recovering. Hey. We've been going through the same thing since the end of May... and it was up and down, then down and DOWN. Tests, surgeries, inconclusive biopsies, blood, puke, bloody puke, ultrasounds, meds, meds meds. I had even made The Appointment- and cancelled (freaks me out how fucking close we came...)- at the beginning of August. I basically dedicated myself to either healing her- or giving her the best fucking end-of-life a dog could have (and kinda neglected my family, house, friends and job). I'm not sure what worked- or for how long, but she is so much better now, it's incredible. She's my first dog after a lifetime of cats- and while I knew that dogs were different and the relationship is special, I never really UNDERSTOOD.
So... Cheers to the Hammer!
(ps- two words: SALMON OIL)
Thanks for all your kind words. If the Hammer could read, and you were here, she would she would would give you kiss so big you would not have to blow your nose for a month.
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