Here is an update since the last time I blogged. It's been a while.
Two Saturdays ago, Beady Eyes went outside to do her usual "thing." When she walked back in, she was walking weird and in pain. The hoomans immediately went to her aid only to find she was covered with yellow jackets. They immediately put her in the bathtub, started killing them and the Old Wise Man grabbed the Children's Benedryl and a straw and started pushing it down her throat. She passed out and went into shock. They made a beeline (no pun intended, well, yea, actually that was intended) to the Veterinarian's Office. After a steroid shot, antibiotics, Prednisone, antihistamine regimen and lots of TLC, I am happy to report she is back to her annoying little beady eyed self.
 |
| Beady Eyes with her Hippie Look |
Chupacabra continues to annoy me despite my best efforts to ignore him. He acts like a Latino lover, walking around, all macho-like, with his bow-legs and revolting bad breath. What can I say? Hooman made a promise to her dying mother to care for him. Here is the latest picture of him.
 |
He thinks he is sexy.
|
Bella the lab is rarely photographed or talked about but she is still around. She is old. I mean really, really old. In fact, I walked up on her having a conversation with some dirt. She apparently knew the great-great-great grandfather of said pile of dirt. She is like an enigma, wrapped in a mystery, smothered with the vile smell of prunes and a kiss my ass attitude. I'm not a Phdog or anything in aging seniors but I am fairly sure that is normal attitude for a dog who is the equivalent to 115 years old. This is her latest picture.
 |
| Bella is older than the Dirt Pile's Grandparents |
And there have been a few incidences where I have come across her and the old Chupacabra in the yard, thinking they were dead, only to poke them with my nose to see they were still alive (much to my hooman's delight and my dismay).
 |
| Example #1 |
 |
Example #2
|
The realities of my life and the fact that I, a gorgeous, girthy,
goddess doggess, among these mere
morons mortals makes me realize that I am lucky to be the youngest. But that does not exclude me from the nightly pill call.
Yes, even the Basket Hound, is now on a medicinal regimen.
It appears I have had the Hank Hill Syndrome (aka a narrow urethra) that causes me problems on occasion. I am on six months of antibiotics and anti-flamatories. I, too, get to delight in the tasty peanut butter goodness at approximately 9pm every night.
We hear the hooman head to the kitchen and yell, "Pill Call" and I start salivating in delight and it is a knock down, jump over of canine excitement to get to her first.
I think it keeps the old dogs young, personally.
So that is an update of my life.
Sometimes it gets crazy and all I want to do is wrap myself up like a burrito and hide.
 |
Abbie the Burrito Hound
|
Then El Chupy gets that old sniffer working and before long, I cannot hide because I have the demon eyes of the little white one staring at me...lovingly, hungrily.
YIKES!!!!
It is my life and I would not take it for another one. After all, I am the boss.
