That is me today. Not in this reality.
Six dogs. How did I not realize that if one got critters, all might? So we (my vet and I) are still working on finding out who has what. And it is a puzzle most certainly.
Let me put my findings in order.
Foxy has Giardia, a parasite in her intestines. She is on meds for that. The other five are being checked to see if they have this too.
Yesterday, April, the newest addition to the mad house, went in for her check up. Good news. No worms or parasites. And high five from vet man that she is one good looking dog. I beamed with pride. I'd found a winner. Nothing wrong with her! Later I told the gal from the rescue shelter my good news on April. "Oh, by the way," she informed me, "don't let her near cats. Grabbed three one day." I refused to ask what that meant, but I do know not to get a cat. And I know she may not be the dog I walk in the neighborhood. She is a hunting dog. Don't they hunt something other than cats? What a pussy.
Today, Rascal went to see the man. More high fives on cuteness. Rascal had a shy moment and let herself be handled and prodded. She took it well. Then, in a flash the man walked in and Rascal bared her teeth and started snarling. "Is she afraid of men?" my vet asked. "I think she is afraid of your Bugs Bunny tie," I tried to make light of a situation I suddenly worried about. What if she didn't like men? Another dating strike.
But they shooed me out the door, to see how Rascal did without me and she became her old self. I think she trying to be bigger in her paws than she is. Such behavior is not tolerated here. Her shelter lady said she loved all she met on her weekends at PetSmart. We had a discussion on her bad manners on the drive home where she tried to sneak kisses rather than listen.Rascal has whipworms. So we have pills for that. But could the others have whipworms now? That is a good question. Luckily we have only checked 3 for giardia, now the other 3 can be checked for both and I can backtrack the last ones. Whew.
Annabelle goes in on Thursday for her intro to the man. I have all her papers, but we'll see if she has any doodly bugs.
I came home my head a spinning on dogs and their critters. "Keep the yard clean," the last words I heard as I ran my debit card. I am walking with Lysol cans strapped to my ankles.
Just as I started to relax I remembered my new nightie I bought at the thrift store today. Liz Claiborne jammie pants and a large oversized sweater to knock about in this cold weather at night. I am tired of running out after the dogs with my butt chillin under my short night shirt.
I opened the door to head down the stairs to wash them and noticed the runner had a small hole and loops of yarn twirling around it. How did the dogs get there? I wondered. And then I saw it, small and tangled in the hole, a rat turd. "Shit," I screamed. Then laughed. How true. I went down the stairs and there by the washer and dryer more of the same. Ratatoullie? I wonder if my new housemate can cook?
So, on my list of things to do. Rat trap.
Today was a day of bats in my belfry and rats in my basement.
I am happy to report six butts are sleeping in the living room, sweetly dreaming. I smile as I look at them. I am their rock star, Leader of The Pack. I rush to get my jammies to join them.
Widow Lesson Learned: Every dog has his day, and my dogs are each having a day this week.
Bat clip art from http://www.webweaver.nu/clipart/halloween/bats.shtml