You know what I don’t want to see? All your eardrops flinging out onto the couch as you shake your head while I’m trying to administer them.
I am not speaking to this dog right now.
She is putting her head cutely next to my leg and sighing deeply all “Oh, I hate it when we have these misunderstandings.”
You can cover Mrs. W’s head with a towel to keep the eardrops off the couch, but it won’t keep them in her ears any better. Sigh.
On the bright side, your couch will not ever smell like rancid bacon bits.
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True enough! Come sit on my couch, people. I can now guarantee your butt will not get an ear infection.
I remember when we had to give Casey ear drops. It felt like so much of a fool’s errand.
On the bright side, we called him “Gary” for the rest of his days.
“Mr. Simpson, Gary spilled his ear medicine.”–