I already want to shoot myself and it's only 6 bloody AM.
*Think back to last night*
Me: Oh crap, he's eating that plastic bone too.
Mum: Mmm.
Me: *puts plastic bone away*
...
Me: What's he eating now?
Mum: The plastic bone, he was crying for it.
Me: Awww, bless him, he's so spoilt.
*Think back to five hours ago*
Dog heaving.
*Think back to four hours ago*
Dog heaving.
*Think back to three hours ago*
Dog heaving.
*Think back to fourty minutes ago*
Dog heaving, puking up yellowy foam, and crying.
So I brought him downstairs and rang the vet. "Bring him in at 9AM." Brilliant. Great way to spend my newly earned wages.
*10 minutes ago*
Me: *Wander into the kitchen, see a salad bowl full of porridge. Wtf?! Oh, dad's breakfast.*
...
Dad: He ate the whole plastic bone?
Me: No, just a bit of it.
Dad: Has he eaten yet?
Me: I can't feed him!
Dad: WHY???
Me: It's half six in the morning.
Dad: Oh, I thought it was time for him to eat. Give him food as soon as you can, that'll make him better.
Me: *thinks* Yeah, the way to treat an upset stomach is by eating more and come to think of it I do recall seeing a recipe for a chicken and plastic casserole.
Dad: And how much is it to have him washed? I'll pay for it.
Me: *thinks back to conversation had with mum a few months ago, when she was wondering if getting me a puppy really made me happier. Yes, yes it did. It's the only thing that makes me want to come home at the end of the day, or stay around all day, or leave my room at all.*
It's too early for this.
Love,
Mon xx













I bet they're tasty! x
03/04/08 @ 07:22