He needs to keep his ass parked on the couch but he got up this morning to clean the kitchen and cook his own breakfast. Now, how in the hell am I supposed to sleep in when I've got some dude with a busted neck wiping down the counters and frying sausage? So I've gotta get up and try and shoo him outta the way so I can do things for him. We actually had a physical confrontation over who would have possession of the sausage. (He won. only because he started to cry and yell "why are you hurting me?". I was afraid that the garbage men would hear and come investigating so I let him continue cooking.)
I was supposed to work yesterday and today but managed to take a couple of days of vacation so I can help Sweety on his road to recovery. It's a good thing that I'm not going to be off the whole 2 weeks that he is because I don't know if we could handle it. Distance makes the heart grow fonder and all of that jazz.
Look at this smiling bitch.
On the days that I'm off, I'll leave the house door to the back porch and the back porch door to the backyard open so the dogs can be free-range dogs. Sweety doesn't like having the doors open to the outside just for the express purpose of letting the dogs come and go as they please, so I had to clear a spot in the sun inside for Tiny dog. She was wandering around, sniffing the doors and looking at me like "Why haven't you opened the door for me yet, woman?" and I knew I better find her a sunny napping spot before she took a grudge shit somewhere. Living with Tiny dog is kind of like living with a tiny, hairy dictator.
And where is Stinky during all of this? Right here beside me, being a good dog. We discovered that there was a little sore on the top of her neck that Tiny dog was eating on and I've spent the past few days making sure that there is some foul tasting medicine on it so Tiny doesn't snack on it. It turns my stomach whenever I think about it. Tiny dog is only a couple of pounds away from being big enough for a shock collar. I'm thinking of strapping one around her waist and giving her a buzz whenever she gets ready to abuse Stinky.
Oh, guess what Sweety had for the very first time when he was in the hospital? Coffee. He has had a lifelong disdain for coffee - he associates the smell with the smell of the cigarettes that his parents would smoke while they had their coffee and he wouldn't drink it. When we went to see him in the hospital, the first thing he wanted to tell me was that he finally had some coffee. When I asked him why, he said that he figured if they were giving it away that he would take it. He didn't like it. The nurse told him that hospital coffee wasn't the thing to try for your first time and that he should get some good coffee from Starbucks when he has the chance.
Sweety doesn't know it, but next week, we are going to Starbucks and then somewhere to get pedicures. Because one thing that I AM NOT FUCKING DOING is trimming his toenails. Nope, not gonna happen. I've never had a pedicure either so it will be something that we can do together for the first time. Sweety is big on "firsts".