Doof Mom

Did you notice my absence? My friggin’ modem died. The web has been giving my grief for the last few weeks, culminating in my being unable to load / log on to most websites and then nothing. At all. Talk about your tortuous way to recognize your internet addiction. But I’m all better now . . . with upgraded (3x faster) internet to boot!  Yay!

You may recall that my vet advised me to collect fecal samples from the 3 cats and Doodles. I don’t know if anyone has tried to collect fecal samples from cats, but it’s not easy. In fact, it’s a downright pain in the ass. To begin with, my cats are housetrained. Not litterbox trained. They refuse to use a litterbox. They do their business outside. And absolutely not if anyone is watching. They all use the same area of the yard. It’s IMPOSSIBLE to tell who’s poop is whose. And that’s making the quantum leap that it is possible for me to get to the poop before the poop-eating dogs.

To make a long, shitty story short(er), I never did get adequate fecal samples for the cats. So, $185 later, all animals are on meds for Giardia.

Back to the internet addiction — it was rather a rude awakening to realize that I’m totally addicted to the internet. I was unable to check my email for over a week and I seriously panicked — what was I missing? how does one keep up without internet? I can’t tell you how many times I said “oh, I’ll just check that online” and then felt that kick in the stomach feeling when I remembered I couldn’t. Addiction sucks.

So I did what any other red-blooded girl would do — I used sex to convince the Big D to get another dog. See I figure: we had 3 kids, 3 cats and only 2 dogs. It’s only right that I get another. My current issue is that there are 3 of everything except parents (so DH and I are on the lookout for another wife . . . preferably one that likes to cook and clean and doesn’t take much room. Let me know if you know anyone.)

The new dog is a Maltese. Cute as a button and has a sparkling personality. We named her Muff (a reminder of the tactics used to bring her into our home? ya think?) — her name was Angel (but seriously, me with a dog named Angel?? I don’t think so.) Mose loves her. Really loves her. Poor Muff doesn’t get a moments peace and the kids are getting an at-home doggie sex ed demonstration.

Makes for interesting conversations over dinner.