Two antibiotic capsules twice a day.
An anti-itch spray twice a day.
Anti-yeast eardrops twice a day.
Two vitamin E supplements once a day.
That's my allergic infected, itchy, slobbery mess of a dog! Who's a good girl? SHE IS! She'd better be, for the 500 bills I dropped on her the other day. In addition to the aforementioned meds, we also purchased the following: 12 months of flea stuff, 12 months of heartworm preventative, a poop culture, a heartworm test, an ear cleaning, TWO medicated baths (see itchy thing above), and about 30 different kinds of inoculations.
Such a deal.
Here's hoping it all works, because there's only so much snuffling about the netherbits and obsessive chewing a body can take before they're thinking of what farm to drop a dog off at.
Yep, the 'free dog' we adopted several years ago is turning out to be quite the bargain.
As proof of the very highly exciting life I lead, I shall now tell you about the grass in the front yard. IT IS TOO EXCITING, hush up.
As some of y'all might recall, several weeks ago I awoke to the sound of a rototiller going great guns in the front yard. 'What ho?' thought I, and went out to discover my dear husband chewing up the yard, a grimly determined look on his handsome mug.
Oh dear. This is going to mean work, I also thought.
Indeed, I was correct. The rototilling was followed by raking out all the old vegetative matter (hardly one shred of which was actual grass), then more rototilling, then more raking, then levelling, seeding, fertilizing, then application of 10 bags of peat moss in a thinly sprinkled layer (to keep yon birds from gulleting all the lovely, lovely potential grasses).
You know what happened, of course. It rained. And rained, and rained, and washed away about half the newly planted grass seeds.
From miles away, folks could hear the great sighs of dejection, and feel the wind from heavily heaved shrugs of two sets of shoulders.
Nothing to do for it but to replant, and pray for good weather, which almost happened. Someone was smart though (not me), and bought a few yards of new dirt to shore up the low spots and create some water-diverting berms, then put down some kind of snazzy hay fabric stuff to keep the grass firmly put so that when it started to rain again (and don't you KNOW it did), there would be no need for shruggage or sighage.
Sweet Maria, there's now GRASS in the front yard. Lovely and green and tender, the grass is sprouting, growing, filling in the places where once there was nowt but snake weed and wild onion.
Oh, there are also deer prints and one random set of tire tracks in the soft dirt from where someone (again, not me) rather carelessly backed their truck into the driveway, but fully 99% of the yard is coming up grasses! Exciting, yes?
My thoughts exactly.
Hay (hee!), in case you didn't know, I have, by treachery and much knife-twisting, won the chance to interview the Blonde Goddess, an occasion that I hope will be the opportunity to learn many new things about her and to perhaps also pimp out this blog to a whole new set of readers (she's huge on the internet, you know). That being the case, it's incumbent on me to ask her the right sorts of questions. Because we already KNOW about her sex toy collection, and that she loves being naked, and that her family in Maine are an interesting and varied lot of folks, what more can be asked of her to fill us in on the great mysteries of Her Swedeness?
One cartoon that changed her life?
The potential of mutant gerbils to raise the dead?
What would YOU ask her, if you could?