Little Miss Muffintop

Animal Emergency Room!

Over the weekend my dogs received immunization shots for their upcoming weekend at camp (Ross & I are going to Florida for 48 hours) and the doctor warned me that one or both may have a reaction to the vaccines. The vet recommended that I wait 2 hours to make sure everything is ok and that if something did happen, it would look worse than it was. She said their face would blow up and it might look like they’re not able to breathe, but they are. Able to breathe. And they would, you know, not die.

I waited with my mom at home for the 2 hours and all they did was sleep, so off we went to get new eyeglasses and also to get Ross a GPS for his birthday. Happy Birthday, Ross even though you never come here and read this. We got home a few hours later and I let the dogs out, we take a walk around the pond, come back inside and suddenly I notice Deuce is rubbing his head against his bed. Looking closer, I see that he’s got these bumps all over him like he’d been out rolling in an ant hill. Which he had not. And the bumps begin to get bigger. And then he throws up. And then I panic and call the vet which is of course closed and then I call the Animal Emergency Room and they say please to be bringing Deuce in right away because yes, he is having a reaction to the vaccines.

Unfortunately the Emergency Room is probably 45 minutes away and I’ve never been to it and the very nice receptionist tells me that I could mapquest it, but mapquest is wrong. So is google. And she can’t give me directions, only a general overview of the area. I drive like a bat out of hell down into New Jersey, half hoping that a cop would stop me so I could show them my Very Sick Deuce and they could maybe get me where I need to go with a police escort and stuff. But that didn’t happen.

Right as I am pulling into the parking lot, Deuce starts making these sad little huffing noises, almost like he can’t breathe but no no no that can’t be right because the doctor said he’ll be able to breathe and NOT DIE. I get him inside, they take him into the back right away, give him a couple of shots and oh yeah, OXYGEN THERAPY because what do you know, HIS TONGUE WAS BLUE. After 20 minutes of waiting around, they bring him back out and he’s happy as a clam and we all go home and he did not die.

∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞

Take another dive, Sidney Crosby. You’re like the Cristiano Ronaldo of the NHL. I’ve got my eye on you. And that’s all I have to say about hockey. Stupid Penguins.

This morning I had another technicolor, trademark, patent-pending have a very good day sex dream©™ This time it was with Nathan Fillion. Ah, Captain Tightpants, I love you so. I will spare my innocent readers the details of this dream save for two:

• My butterflies’ butterflies in my stomach got butterflies when he dismissed some stupid girl standing next to me, turned to me and said, “You. Wanna go for a ride?” Only it was less of a question and more of a demand.
• He may or may not have been wearing Tighty Whities. Until we had all the sex. But for some reason, that’s the image I remember most. So I have seen Captain Tightpants both bare-assed and in tighty whities and friends, it was spectacular. Also, so was all the sex.

click to maybe spy with your little eye a bulge. heh.

eta: I realize now that I don’t think I ever mentioned my technicolor, trademark, patent-pending have a very good day sex dream©™ with Richard Z. Kruspe from Rammstein. It’s probably better that way cause ooer, it was filthy.