Love, Liquor and Lubricant

It's been a long week here in the Nelson abode.

Today, the urge to make a hot buttered rum came much too early.  Luckily Prestyn ate the last of the butter right off the counter this morning. So, I was shit-out-of-luck.

For the past few months my dogs have been passing a lovely case of campylobacter back and forth with Prestyn. It's tits. (When you're walkin' down the hall, and you feel something fall: Diarrhea, diarrhea.) My hands are cracked and bleeding from washing them 23,984,732,984,737 times a day.

I called the doctor, for the third embarrassing time, to get another Z-pack to cure the chronic Nelson runs. Somehow, I have evaded the bacteria....but no one else has. (I must be the only one not eating fecal matter.) Bracing myself for a scathing lecture on cleanliness, I was surprised to hear that they would just refill her prescription one more time. Whew!

Unfortunately the doggy meds won't be so easy. I explained to the receptionist my recurring poopy problem, now certain it was starting with the dogs. "The doctor will want to see them." CHA-CHING was all I heard. I know that if I had spoken directly with the vet he probably would have just given me the rx, but of course he's on vacation. The nerve.

In my mind, a $322.98 stool sample confirming campylobacter from the local hospital should be enough to get a quick shot of antibiotics for pooches. Seems that's not the case. So they'll be soiling the yard four times a day for the remainder of the weekend.

Along with persistent squirts, we've been teething here for...oh...a good 2 years now. Will it ever end? Are there really teeth down in there? Will she really get every poop and pee in the potty? Will she stop getting into everything?

Highlight of the Week: Found Prestyn on the far side of our bed, chewing on a condom and covered in KY. Really? She thought it was HA-larious. To boot, I couldn't catch the booger because she was covered in lubricant and kept slipping through my grip. This began a good 20-minute, slimy chase. Eventually, I caught her and cleaned the lube off. When I got in bed that night, Lars looked at me and asked what was all over my pants, "Looks like splooge," he chuckled.  Pretty much...

Will I ever get my sanity back???

I know that she won't be two forever (thank god!).  If that were the case, humans would be extinct. Like many other animals, they would probably eat their young soon after birth.