WHAT'S LEFT OF MY DOG'S ASS NO LONGER STINKS

Wow. I currently have 476 entries in my diary according to this new Diaryland doo-dad.

Go me.

Soooooo...show of hands here ... how many people out there are SICK of hearing about my dog's ass??

Let's see ... there's one...two ... three...OH STOP IT!! I can't see your hands you morons! Put your hands down.

Sheesh.

One more quick story about my dog's ass. It may not be the last story, but I doubt I'll be talking about it tomorrow.

I took the dog to the vet yesterday...get her teeth cleaned and her anal sacs "expressed".

The doctor found a tumor the size of his thumb just inside her rectum.

She's had one of these before that was cancerous. That happened years ago and she never really had any lingering effects from it.

We don't know if this tumor was cancerous or not, but the doctor said to not worry about it, he didn't think it was anything to get flustered about.

Oh yeah ... he removed the tumor after I told him to.

So now, poor Maggie is walking gingerly around the house, her poor, former stinky ass all sore from the stitches holding it together.

Here's the part where I try not to sound like a cold, callous bastard.

I love my dog, okay? I've had her for 11 years now.

But my baby boy has taken her place as far as importance in my life.

I mean, that's fair...right??

And if Maggie were to die tomorrow, I'd be upset. But not as upset as I would have been a year ago.

She's lived an almost full life.

She never did catch a cat or squirrel, which I think have always been her two major goals in life.

But other than that, I think she could die happy tomorrow.

I dunno.

She's not going to die.

I pretty much know this. I can sense death in living objects ... and she's not near her death bed yet.

Which kinda sucks since her vet bill yesterday was over $300.

Almost makes me wanna take her out back and shoot her in the head to avoid another damned bill like that one.

Almost.

And here's something that's bothering me ... how do I KNOW that my dog had a tumor???

The doctor called me at the office to talk about the extraction of the tumor. I gave him my permission to remove it without actually seeing or feeling the tumor.

...Not that I wanted to do either one.

But a veterinarian could call you and say "Your pet has a tumor. Can I remove it and never show it to you and you just pay me for it, even if there was never a tumor there to begin with?"

It all comes down to trusting your Vet.

I guess I trust mine. But I've also got a weird feeling about it. Find a tumor, "remove" the tumor, automatically claim the tumor is "nothing to worry about" and life goes on.

It's not like I'm going to check my dog's ass myself right now. I can't stand to look at her ass for more than three seconds. How the hell am I going to check it for stitches and blood?

Anyway...

Mattie Gee and I went to Arby's Drive Thru for lunch yesterday.

Our total bill was $10.56.

We gave Moesha a $20.

She gave us back $14.44.

Five dollars more than she should have given us.

I didn't realize it until we had pulled out of the parking lot.

Did I turn around, drive back, go inside the Arby's and hand the five dollars back to Moesha?

Ummmmmmmmmmmm....

No.

Am I a bad person?

Ummmmmmmmmmmm...

Yeah.

Do I plan on taking the five dollars back today?

Ummmmmmmmmmmm...

I doubt it.

...Gotta pay that vet his $300 back somehow...

I found out yesterday that I have not yet mastered the art of making small talk with a day care provider.

I went to pick up Andy last night (who's doing miraculously better this morning, thankyouverymuch for asking), and I was asking his provider how he had done that day, being his first day back in daycare after being sick.

"He did great," she said, handing me the baby and all his stuff.

"Did he take his medicine?" I asked.

"He sure did," she said.

"Did he sleep much?" I asked.

"He slept. He ate. He cried. He needed his diaper changed. Everything was normal," she said very quickly as she opened the front door to let me out.

Which, TO ME, sounded like a complete brush off.

Now, I KNOW she has to cook dinner for her family and Andy was the last to leave. But jeez lady ... humor the new daddy for a minute. Don't just blow me off because I ask too many questions.

I think tomorrow when I pick him up, I'll just say "Andy" when she opens the door. She'll put him in my arms and I'll spin around and march him back to my car without another word.

Yeah.

That'll teach her.

Boy. I'll show her alright.

I'm out of Coca-Cola, so I'm having to drink orange juice this morning.

This could be an omen that today's going to suck.

I really wanna make homemade pizza for dinner tonight.

I haven't made it in probably a year.

I'm a pretty good cook if I say so myself. But I've never mastered a good pizza.

It's something that bothers me day in and day out. I wake up each morning, chastising myself for being a lousy pizza chef.

I suck.

Mattie Gee really likes his new job. Before he left the newspaper, I pressured him into trying to get me hired on over there.

Yesterday, I hung out with him and the owner of the company and the owner's right hand man.

I've known the owner and his right hand man for several years more than Mattie Gee. I tried to be very nice and ummmmmm...non-desperate for a job.

The pay is much better. The working conditions are much better. The boss isn't a severe alcoholic who berates his best employees. And there's plenty of room for advancement.

I could get used to a gig like that.

Well, the wife unit is awake and wants to talk about all things Andy, so I'll cut it short here. Take care...have a great day!!!

RETURN OF THE QUESTION OF THE DAY!!!

If you found out that a drive thru girl gave you back five dollars too much after leaving the restaurant, would you turn around to take it back to her?