the one where i tell you my dog woes

 

Woe. Is. Me.

Before animal lovers all over the world unite to flame me to my internet death, let me say, I too am a lover of animals. At one time in my life I even thought I’d be a veterinarian. But that day is long, looong gone.  I have reached my capacity for animal love. Let’s review: my contempt for the cat. And now…

This:

Is Milo.

Milo is a dog. He is a Boston Terrier as far as I can tell. Or part Boston, part sweet, part pain in the hiney, if that breed exists. We found him. On the road. In the country. No one claimed him, and he seemed alright, cute even, so we kept him.

 

Mistake number 2.

 

Mistake number 1 was getting the other dog. Lucy. If you haven’t see the Man’s blog about her. I’m not even going into it. I can’t bear it.

 

Anyway we kept him. We had him fixed and all that jazz. Got him chipped. Cause we’s responsible pet owners. Yes we are. Or we like to think so anyway. *pat pat on the back*

 

Well Milo has a bit of a complex. He’s little. But he doesn’t know. Also he doesn’t know when a much bigger dog can WHIP HIS ASS. So he fights. Over everyathang. Food. Toys. Balls. Name it. He is up in Lucy’s face. She’s going to eat him eventually. Because of this we decided that Milo would be better off inside.

 

Mistake #3.

I see now why Milo was in the middle of a country road. It’s becoming very clear.

 

In addition to thinking he’s a Great Dane, Milo pees. Every time he gets excited. So he pees on the floor. On people. And frequently on himself.

Awesome.

And he poops. Usually outside. But not always.

Double awesome.

 

The day after Milo came inside I noticed he was scratching. WITH RECKLESS ABANDON. Then the hair. All. Over. The. Place. The couch. The floor. Ella’s mouth. In my FOOD.

 

I swept FIVE TIMES. IN ONE DAY. And I vacuumed. Twice. And my vacuum sucks. Or actually it doesn’t, so that’s another problem altogether.

 

Then I realized (and it took me a while because I like to live in a place called Denial). CRAPTASTIC. He’s not just scratching and shedding. He’ sick. And I KNOW you’re supposed to feel bad for creatures that are helpless. Like babies and DOGS. I knooooow. But ARGH. WE FOUND THIS DOG ON THE STREET. Babies are cute.

 

Milo is a scabby snorting snoring balding mess of stench and annoyance.

 

And I have to take him to the vet. Because I’m a responsible pet owner. And before he was a scrabby snorting snoring balding mess of stench and annoyance he was kind of cute.

You know, like before I ate his hair for breakfast.

 

And the vet smells. Like bleach. And other stinky dogs. I don’t like it.

 

Thank you in advance for your time and commiseration.

 

In pet owning misery,

 

j

 

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Comments
2 Responses to “the one where i tell you my dog woes”
  1. Stef says:

    Ugh, I’m so, so sorry. I know pet woes, yes, yes, I do, and I can completely and utterly empathize with your plight. ((hugs))

    Sad, but I think Milo needs a new home. You know, for your sanity.

  2. TMae says:

    Milo is adorable (as is Lucy as best I can tell from the pic on your husband’s blog). Boston Terriers are known to think they are bigger than they are, and terriers in general are stubborn, persnickety creatures. I fostered some sort of absolutely adorable terrier for 2 weeks. In that two weeks, she had the two labs in the house moved out of their beds and asking if they could eat their food. Little dogs, bit ‘tudes.

    I’m a dog lover, through and through. I think they make life brighter. If you don’t kill them because they’re so damn high maintenance.

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