"Awww crap..." I said (no pun intended). "Should we go to the vet?"
"I don't know," he grumbled, donning his surgical gloves.
The truth is...Betsy is getting older (13 now) and has all kind of strange health problems (much like her Mommy). She wears a Comfy Cone to keep from itching, sometimes poos in her crate, a while back came down with old dog vestibular disease, and a bunch of other stuff I can't even get into.
I love that dog. When I adopted her nearly 11 years ago, I knew this would be a part of the package. Still, we had an agreement. I agreed to love her to pieces. She agreed to stick around until I turned 40 (which happened last October). So far, we've both kept up our end of the bargain.
Having come in fresh from her bath, she's happy; not sick, upset, or pained....definitely no worse for wear. Hubby, on the other hand, is a whole other story. The dog, the crate, the laundry room, and a pile of crap have taken their toll. Defeated, he heads to the shower.
I should mention:
Angel is the cleanest human being on the planet....sometimes showering three times daily. If there is a hell on earth, this is surely included. Top that with a sick wife, most of the housework, all of the money making responsibilities, and little sleep, you can see his life lately has been no bed of roses.
Still, we are family. Messy, broken, ill, wore out, or otherwise, we stick together. So, it's off to the grocery store to buy some bleach, make breakfast, and pick up the slack for a bit. Luckily, I am up and able.
Here's to turning this day around....
Altered Today: How I woke up, doting on traumatized hubby and pupster, catching fowl balls and starting a new game.