Friday, October 15, 2010

Up wit' da chickens

So at approximately 4am (I say approximately because dag gone it was early) I woke up to Lewis.  He was crying this high pitched whiny cry.  And he was spinning in circles on my bedroom floor.  Spin, whine, spin, whine, whimper whimper whimper.  It was pathetic.  He was obviously being troubled by a pesky flea.  And whereas normal dogs (no offense sweet Lewey) just chew on their heiny and relieve the discomfort- Lew can't reach.  All he can do is look in that basic direction- and whine and whimper and high pitch bark howl.

So I scratched him.  His legs, his back, his heiny........scratch scratch scratch.  There- crisis solved.......back to bed.

Only it didn't stop.  So I did what I had to do for our faithful dog.  I drew him a bath.

And at 4am I managed to wrestle the beast into the tub where he promptly laid down and I could hear him breath a sigh of relief.  I scrubbed him up with my herbal mint flea relief shampoo, two times.  Hoisted him from the tub, dried him as best as one can in the middle of their nights sleep, and sent him off for some rest.

Only it is now 4:32 am, I am wide awake and I have a load of doggie smelling towels scrubbing up in my washer and a dog who is outside and won't come in.

Isn't pet ownership grand?  Seeing these woman toting their little doll doggies on diamond studded leashes with matching doggie purses doesn't begin to touch the glam that is having a pet. Nope, nothing like scrubbing up doggie diarrhea from the carpet, stepping in cold dog puke or midnight barky bubble baths.

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