Apparently the Butcher hit a deer on his way to work this morning. I would never have known except my dad called to ask me if I’d read him sassing the Butcher on Facebook, which I hadn’t, because I was swamped all morning. Ugh. Poor Butcher. I hope he’s okay.
The dog is “unique” according to the vet. The vet thinks it would be beneficial to the dog if she were tranquilized before coming to the vet any more because, as the vet explained it, you know how some people are just terrified of dentists, like get panic attacks about it? That’s apparently Mrs. W. about the vet. I was hoping that a trip to the vet in which she didn’t have to get any shots might be okay, but no, she was still like “Oh my god, these people are going to kill me!!!!!!!!!!! Please, B., smack my bottom. It’s the only thing that will soothe my soul while I await my impending death!!!!!” even though she had already been examined. I guess impending death at the vet’s can happen at any time. So, yes, I spanked my dog in public. In front of people. People with whom I’d like to have normal relations.
You ever smacked a dog’s bottom for fifteen minutes straight? It’s not a high point of your life, I’ll tell you that.
Seriously. You can’t be out in public indulging your dog’s BSDM fantasies and not feel like maybe you should have just stuck with cats. Or not had pets. Or left the house.
Anyway, she’s got a bacterial infection in her ear. And has to have drops.
And she needs a serious bath. Ugh, my hands were so dirty after smacking her. It was disgusting.
Poor The Butcher. I wish he’d called and told me. But I would have just had a stroke and worried. So I’m also glad he just handled it.