I Went To The Animal Fair
I remembered about fifteen minutes ago that I made an appointment with the vet this morning to get the dogs updated on their rabies shots. Of course, I thought I would have my federal refund back by now but, funny story, it appears to have vanished in the ether. Tax lady sent it, government accepted it, said they paid me, bank never received it. My MN return went through just fine so I can’t see how my bank info would be the problem. Now I have to wait up to three weeks to INQUIRE about it.
But I’m going to take the beasts in anyway. We are all attending to our immediate needs after paying off some bills with our MN tax refund. I went and got a prescription filled that is rather expensive and not life sustaining. (The two other prescriptions that I take sort of replace those bodily juices that keep one alive so skimping is not an option.) The boy will be getting new jeans as he refuses to stop getting taller no matter how many bricks I pile on his head. And the dogs will get their rabies shots. Oh, AND they got new water bowls.
I really do like the vet that I go to but I’m bracing myself for their slightly condescending disbelief that I could let my dog’s rabies lapse. I realize that every professional lives in their own little world and really can’t comprehend why someone wouldn’t spend a kajillion dollars on something like insulin shots for their nineteen year old blind, deaf, and paralyzed beagle. I’m fully prepared to let them know that, by finally being allowed to place my dogs at the top of my list after a year and a half, I should be happy. AND SO SHOULD THEY!
After the vets? I believe I will drop off the dogs before heading to the mall. There is a sale on work clothes that I need to check out. Although I must admit to being tempted to bring them into the mall and just let them lose. “But officer! The vet said they needed exercise. I fail to see the PROBLEM!”
I am also finding that my cat is attempting to suffocate me on a nightly bases. It is a little known scientific fact that cats throwing their entire body weight onto a person’s face is the leading cause of sleep apnea.
Can we just pause here and recognize that the two dogs in the above picture are astonishingly like my own two canine companions? Can you guess which personality the vet will tell me has a WEIGHT PROBLEM? Along with being possibly retarded?
I also am faced with a slug of art history homework that I have started over the past two nights and ended with a glass of wine and the muttered phrase “Really, should I give a flying f’ck about this????” Perhaps I shouldn’t include THAT observation in the homework page.
I’m also taking Friday, April 2 off. The first is my last day of work at the old place. The fifth is my first day of work at the new place. I am being totally irresponsible and taking a day off WITHOUT PAY. Fate, in all her good humor, is giving me a first day of work and a big math test all on the same day. Oh silly fate! How I’d like to sucker punch you in the kidney!
I’m also testing out my dessert entry for a contest next weekend. I’ve dubbed my cake “Screaming Orgasm” for the simple giggle of having little old ladies come up to my entry and say “I’d like to have a little screaming orgasm”. To which I can reply, “Wouldn’t we all!” The original recipe doesn’t have booze in it but I purchased some raspberry liquor last night because it has all that fancy schmancy expensive chocolate in it and I am a SUCKER for raspberries and chocolate.
Having never had any kind of fruity liquor before, I can make one observation. It’s kinda like kool-aid for alcoholics!
And if you drink enough of it, you start to see gigantic bottles of booze knock down a wall in your house while yelling “OOOHHHHH YEEEAAAAH!”
Not that I drank enough of it, mind you. I just have a very active imagination. *cough*
I believe I will be taking my art history to Barnes and Nobles today. Everything is better when you can sit at a table with some sort of a distraction laid out in front of you while you sip ridiculously priced coffee and try to be a poser hipster douchbag. Aim Low! You might not miss!
So I will conclude this missive with a question: How much sedative did these dogs get before visiting the Queen? If these were my dogs they would be jumping all over her, sniffing her purse for treats, and shedding two pounds of hair onto her in 0.2 seconds. I mean, it’s almost like they’re CULTURED or something…