Oh...fuzzy butts. Is there anything better than after a long hard day coming home to be adored and fawned over by your pet?
If you answered yes to the above--clearly you have a dog.
Me? That's not how I roll. I like to be ignored...until I prove to be useful. You know--when it's time to eat. This is why I have cats.
I guess I should be grateful the boys don't have thumbs in the traditional sense. It would be like living with two tiny, yet incredibly piggy, men.
I complain about them, but they are, actually, pretty nice to have around.
Until they aren't. (I hear this is how most people feel about their spouses, so it must be perfectly normal when you cohabitate with someone to have this "I adore you...please die" dichotomy.)
Right now, sweet, sweet Bernie Williams is covered in nastiness. He's got flea scabs. (OHMYGODYESITISASGROSSASITSOUNDS!!!) I've already taken him to the vet once for this..and it was $170.00.
Let that sink in.
Let me also state--I do not have fleas in my house. Yogi does not have fleas. Bernie doesn't have fleas. It's one random bite that a little booger gets in before their Advantage can kill the bastard off.
One. Bite.
And my cat is covered in scabs. *Shudder* Which is why he's kind of gross to be around right now. And of course, he's the snuggler. If I'm on the couch, he wants to be on my lap. If I'm in bed, he wants to poke his paw in my face every now and again and then curl back up at my feet. (I'm pretty sure they both do this off and on through out the night just to make sure I'm alive. Not because they care about me, don't be fooled, but because they are counting on breakfast.)
So. Since this girl certainly does NOT have another at least 100 bucks to blow, she decided to go homeopathic.
A bath seemed like a great idea.
An oatmeal bath. You know, the kind you give kids when they have chicken pox? Or people with poison ivy? Yeah..it sounded like a great idea.
Until Bernie morphed into the Prince of Darkness himself and tried to rip my face off.
So, after several attempts (and a kitchen covered in cat fur and oatmeal bath), I gave up. I admitted defeat.
I got my ass handed to me by a twelve pound ball of fur.
If that doesn't make you feel like an asshat, I don't know what will.
Happy note?? Oh--you have to check out http://www.girlonguy.net/!! I LOVE Aisha Tyler. Now maybe you will too. I feel like I am her shorter, less pigmented twin. Check out her podcasts and you will learn little nuggets like YES!! They are working on Archer Season 3!!
It kind of makes up for last night.
Sort of.
