School was on a two hour delay this morning, due to slick roads. Nothing like getting an early phone call giving you permission to sleep in for two extra hours. Pure bliss.
Bad news is I feel like the cold I fought all last week and thought I had beat is trying to come back on me. And I just won't stand for it. I won't. I have entirely too much to get done between now and December 24th.
Saturday night we went to an ugly Christmas sweater party at my brother and sister-in-law's house where I rocked my battery operated, light up Christmas tree sweater. And I was reminded why I really don't drink anymore.
We played a little game of dirty Santa with gag gifts and I got a lovely bottle of Boone's Farm. Do y'all remember drinking that stuff out of plastic cups in college? That's exactly where Boone's Farm oughta stay. Waaay back in the college days.
In my tipsy state I decided that this Sangria flavored Boone's Farm should really be given a chance so I took the 5 or 6 little plastic Christmas cups that came with my lovely gift, filled them with ice and passed them around to a few lucky recipients, myself included.
BAD IDEA. BAD. I don't, under any circumstances, recommend that you ever try this at home. or anywhere. Because you know that old saying about feeling like dog poop warmed over? Well, that's exactly where I was yesterday morning.
In other news, did y'all know that dogs are super sensitive about their tails? I mean they can get like borderline crazy over a little sore tail.
The reason I know this is because Brisco Darling apparently sustained some sort of injury to his a couple of weeks ago. He woke us up in the middle of the night with a big yelp but appeared to look fine. It happened again a few nights later and then twice on the couch when he was sitting with me.
He then took to sleeping in my closet, which if you knew how spoiled rotten this little dog is, you'd know how very bizarre this behavior is. And he no longer wanted anything to do with the couch, even if we were all sitting on it. Again, very odd behavior for a pampered wiener dog.
Knowing that Dachshunds are prone to back troubles, I examined him and found that he wanted no part in my touching his tail. I finally took him to the vet Friday and the doc determined that he could find no obvious disc problems and that there is a little swollen area on his tail and sent him home with some anti-inflammatory pills that he will take for a week.
His tail really doesn't seem to be bothering him anymore but he still wants no part in the couch or the bed and gets extremely nervous if I try to place him on either one. I'm thinking at this point what we need is a doggie shrink.
I told Charlie last night that I think he is suffering from PTSD since I believe the injury was accidentally inflicted by Charlie's knee that night and that I somehow bumped it wrong those times on the couch and now the poor little guy thinks the bed and the couch are bad news.
Because the really funny thing is, he will sit with me on the sunroom sofa. Have you ever tried reasoning with a dachshund?
No easy feat, I tell you.
Nor is it an easy feat dealing with the demolition duo when they get to fighting. They went over to play at Momaw Pat's yesterday afternoon and when I looked at the clock last night to see it was almost 6 and they still hadn't come home or called to be picked up, I called to see if they were ready to come home.
Momaw Pat answered the phone and said, "Yes, yes, they are ready to come home". I thought I sensed a little frustration in her voice.
Charlie went to get them and said when he showed up, Momaw had her paddle in her hand and looked like she was just about at her wit's end. She said she didn't actually use it. It just made her feel more powerful. And I know exactly what she means!
The Dracenator, who is 7 years old, bit his brother. BIT him! Over a stool he said he didn't want to sit on. Until his brother sat on it, that is. Wth? And here I thought we were way past the biting days.
So, three things I learned this past week?
1. Dogs, in addition to being super sensitive in regards to their tails, can experience irrational beliefs, just like people.
2. ALL things Boone's Farm should forever be considered "bad medicine" and left on the shelf to die.
3. Never underestimate the intense depth of the temporary insanity that is sometimes brought about by sibling rivalry.
The End.
Boone's Farm? Oh, no! Bad medicine, indeed!
ReplyDeleteI think we need a pic of your ugly sweater!
I can't get over the fact that you own a battery operated sweater and didn't post a pic!
ReplyDeleteOh Boones Farm. Cheers to our maturing tastebuds!
Sorry about the dog. Ours has a nasty ear infection and every time you go to pat him on his head he flinched. Don't you wish they could talk?!
I know I live there and this is my life...but somehow reading this makes one a bit afraid to come home! LOL kidding, Love ya MST!
ReplyDeleteYour Boone's Farm is my Peppermint Schnapps.
ReplyDeleteYou reminded me I need a gag gift for my family event too!
Boone's Farm=hangover hell. I can't believe how much we used to drink of that stuff!!
ReplyDeleteOh! And I love the idea of the tacky sweater party!
ReplyDeleteBoone's Farm . . . yeaaah. Right up there w/ Cisco, and SoCo. *shudder* Your poor puppy! So glad he is feeling better. Our pup broke her tail once, and oh lord, was it awful. I'm happy it wasn't that bad for him.
ReplyDelete