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Tuesday, August 28, 2007

Aut viam inveniam aut faciam

I'm very sorry that this blog post is late. I was waiting for something.

Obviously, it didn't happen.

No, I don't intend to elaborate upon that.


On a related note, I suspect that I will have to revert to a thrice-weekly schedule for the foreseeable future, mainly because I spend most of my days covered in dog shit.

Allow me to explain. I currently live at home with my parents, who are in their early 70s. Since the beginning of the year, each of them has had various operations which left them unable to do their regular chores about the house. Since I'm living here without paying rent, it is my duty to play the dutiful daughter and help out whenever possible.

Let me emphasize: I have no problem with this.

The problem lies with my mother's two dogs, both of whom are old... incontinent... and all but paralyzed from the waist down. This last fact means that, when it is time for them to go outside and do their business, a sling must be put underneath their bellies. Their potty time is a perverse game of wheelbarrow, which would be funny if they didn't end up doing their business all over my feet and legs.

You see, owing to my mother's recent knee surgery, I must cart these dogs out. The larger of the two dogs 96 pounds. I have to do this a minimum of 4 times a day for each dog, and even then, they STILL manage to pee or poop in the house.

I am, quite frankly, exhausted from this constant workout. The entire house smells very strongly of urine, which isn't doing my allergies any good. Because of this, I'm not sleeping well. Between the lack of the sleep and the constant stopping of whatever I'm doing in order to attend to spoiled, insecure, and incontinent dogs -- whom I have taken to calling The Amazing Shit Machine and Princess Pee -- I can't seem to get the focus I need to write effectively.

I'm tired all the time. My arms and legs ache. I can't concentrate. I suspect it's rather like having a newborn in the house, except that there are no diapers involved.

Now, I did not tell you this to elicit sympathy. Don't tell me how you feel bad for me, etc, because frankly a Cinderella mindset will do me more harm than good. Yes, it's bad, but it's not that bad; I just need to find a way to adapt.

Adaptation, however, will take time, which is why I may miss blog posts. I can't guarantee that I'll have the time or creative energy to write something worth reading. It's my hope that with a day and a half between posts, I'll be able to cobble together something worthwhile.

And now, a bunny with a pancake on its head:

10 comments:

  1. May the Memory or Oolong live FOREVER!

    And I have an idea of your environment, my sympathies. I hate to say it, but it sounds like your mom's dogs should be allowed to sleep...

    But it's never an easy decision. It's been four, five years, and I still look for mine when I come home :(

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  2. maybe someone has invented Doggie Diapers?

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  3. The thing is, Leech, is that aside from the whole "can't feel their rear ends" thing, they're fine. They're happy, sweet, loving dogs who still have a high quality of life.

    We are not strangers to putting dogs down: we have had two German Shepherds, both of whom contracted cancer, and when it was obvious they were miserable we put them to sleep. But the girls are NOT miserable, so having them euthanized because they're an inconvenience is a no-go. That's too much like murder.

    Cressa: I'm sure they have, but while that would solve the problem of messes on the carpet, it would only make the "poop clots in fur" problem that much worse.

    At this point, I'll just buy stock in Resolve carpet cleaner.

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  4. In the words of ex-president Bill Clinton: I feel your pain. And breasts. I would like a pepperoni pizza.

    I had to go through something similar with my Grandparents when they moved in with my family. The pets, however, were less of a problem than the people. Of course, your charge is not the elders of your clan but rather your direct progenitors. That probably puts a pretty big spin on things.

    Here's hoping all goes well, and you do not become an empty, resentful shell of a person whose only outlet of frustration is a series of increasingly perverse websites dedicated to fetishes so bizarre that even Dan Savage would say, "that's fucked up."

    I'm talking porn in four dimensions.

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  5. I had the same problem for a year or two with my family's dog. I ended up having to rip out my carpet and redo the floor underneath.

    Love is sacrifice, and whether they have two or four legs, I'm sure they appreciate it.

    The Discordianism you've taught us should serve you well here.

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  6. >>>They're happy, sweet, loving dogs who still have a high quality of life.


    Okay, that makes all the difference. My dog was defiantly miserable. And also a German Shepherd.

    Then I recommend you find someone you can blackmail into giving you tile/wooden flooring :P

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  7. but what about the bunny?? How does it fit in... are they rampaging bunnies in the house as well? Do they torment the dogs (being unable to chase them any longer)? And how the hell do bunnies make pancakes?

    ... we won't even go into the fashion statement a pancake hat makes...

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  8. Just google "Oolong rabbit" and you shall see.

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  9. Talk to me when you have a pic of a Thompson's gazelle with a Belgian Waffle on its head...

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  10. Ew, incontinent doggies, I really need to hear abou--

    --oooo a bunny!

    ReplyDelete

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