A Dog's Life
Literally the shits. I mean, as in up to my ears in fecal matter.
Yesterday my poor little Dolly Louise came down with a severe case of canine enteritis, which meant she left a trail of vomit and bloody diarrhea all over the house and racked up a $200 vet bill. And then a few hours later, I had a dramatic plumbing crisis that involved strange men tracking a spewage of sewage all over my bedroom rugs and a Roto-Rooter bill that rivaled the vet's. So yeah, life is fabulous, life is magnificent, but let's not sacrifice our balanced perspective in all the brouhaha, shall we. Sometimes life is just plain poopy.
Sadly today was the Mardi Gras dog parade, and Dolly was still too sick to go. And Dixie Rae didn't want to go without her. So I went by myself and here's what I saw:
Elvis dogs (Poor old hound, I've had that exact same wig mishap myself)
A string orchestra dressed up like dogs
Dogs looking for homes
And a friendly blog reader even recognized me on the sidelines (probably because I was the only human in the crowd wearing a backwards wig) and came over to say hi!
I really missed having my own dogs with me. But I can't even begin to tell you how good it felt to be able to go out and mingle, to stand in the sun, to feel well enough to enjoy myself. If it wasn't for having to wear the stupid wig, I would have felt like I was normal. I've waited so long for this!
Thank you, life, for not raining on my parade.
Dixie Rae inspects my nostrils.
Two hundred dollars later, Dolly Louise is on the mend.