Friday

The Dog; or– Part 2 of My Last Three(ish) Months

Can you impulse purchase a puppy?

YES! I know this because I did.

One morning cpt awesomepants and I were sitting drinking the normal gallon of coffee and doing jack-all when our favorite neighbor knocked on our door and was all: "you want this newspaper? I no want it." And then I saw an add for puppies and I was all "PUUUUPPPPPIEESSSS!!!" like you do, so we went to go visit them (with no intention of purchasing, which was just fucking dumb. I have no metaphor. Ok wait yes I do– it's like going to Vegas and being all: I'm NOT going to gamble. Sure, Senator. Sure.)

So we went to visit puppies. They were German Shepherds. I love German Shepherds.

And then this happened:
death by cuteness

I charge anyone (who is not a sociopath, psychopath, or just general asshole) to go "look at puppies" without falling. in. love. And then demanding to keep one. Like you did in fourth grade. With that kitten. Which your mom succumbed to, because your whining had reached a fever pitch and was sort of starting to scare people. Not that I know that story personally, or anything*.
This is exactly what I did with Cpt Awesomepants.

Well, that's not entirely true. First we decided to "talk it over," which consisted of going for a drive whilst I monologued about HOW WE NEEDED A DOG and we needed a dog RIGHT NOW, and how our lives would be INFINITELY BETTER with a dog, and how we should go back IMMEDIATELY and buy one.

So we did.

The breeder took a bunch of information from us and upon confirming that we were not buying this ridiculously expensive pet to 1.harvest her organs, 2.get her knocked up, or 3.train her into CUJO to kill turkeys or whatever you do with Cujo on his off days. And then she took our money and told us to come get her in a few weeks.

Which we did. I'm skipping this part. It's boring and includes all the normal we-didn't-sleep-for-awhile and the-rug-will-never-be-the-same and wow-I've-been-covered-in-pee-for-three-weeks new puppy drama. Yada yada.

AND THEN...

everything went utterly, absurdly, and abysmally wrong. There is no way to adequately explain the insanity that occurred during the phase of time where our dog got horribly sick in a step-by-step manner, so I'm not even going to try.

Suffice it to say that you get a dog never once thinking that it will turn into an endless nightmare of vet visits and mayhem and no sleep at all and fevers and more fevers and 16 courses of antibiotics and hospitalization and ultrasounds and possible kidney disease and possible auto immune disorders and possible dwarfism and calls to aforementioned vet at all hours of the day and night resulting in a shaved belly and shaved paws and multiple blood samples and chasing after your dog at 6am to get a urine sample and mind bogglingly high bills for doggy antacid and steroids which then make your dog really, really thirsty and all but incontinent but finally, finally reduce the evil fever but also disable your dog from regrowing any hair on the shaved parts so that three months later she still has no belly fur.

No, you get a dog thinking (as I did): Cute! Fluffy!! Will sit and do stuff when I say so!!! Yaaaay!!!

Sigh.

All I can say is... it's been a steep learning curve. And steroids are my new best friend.


 And now for some cuteness:
*note shaved forearms. It's cool, we're starting a fashion trend. 


and shaved belly. She looks like a piglet. 


a piglet with a mowhawk. 


The end.
<3



*She was a really nice cat, and we had her for 14 years.

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