Tuesday, January 5, 2010

So Far, So So

                                         New Year's Eve

A few days into 2010, I've learned a valuable lesson.  Apparently, cursing out 2009 in verse (see clever Oh-Nine ode below) was a baad idea.  The powers-that-be who determine what sort of year awaits you (see Raging Greek Gods, Wikipedia) had a little something in mind for yours truly.  "We'll show her," they said, in Greek.  (Translation unavailable at this time.)  And so, on the last day of Nine, Mr. Innocent, aka Dusty, ate something toxic.  What?  Well, eight-hundred dollars later, we still don't have a freakin' clue.  After all, we're talking about a dog that thinks he's a cow. When the mood strikes, which is often, he eats grass just because it's there.


The New Year's Eve incident played out quickly, as most incidents worth mentioning often do.  Incidents that take their sweet time and unspool in slow-mo belong on PBS or the History Channel, not in my personal blogosphere, of which I am Queen.  I was upstairs, trying to get through the musical "Nine," (ironic title, don't you think?) and it was so painful, I turned it off.  I had a gourmet meal to prepare to ring in the new year. What was I doing watching a poor imitation of "All That Jazz"?  I'd only just put myself out of my misery, when in burst Hubby #1. "Something's wrong with Dusty," he said.  Indeed, something was wrong.  The dog was shaking all over and acting funky.  I thought it would pass, but the Hubster, who always sets his trauma-alert on high -- "God forbid" is his favorite saying -- felt otherwise.  Off we went to Beverly Oaks Animal Hospital, where the pink-haired vet took one look at Dusty and unfurled a list of troublemakers he might've ingested on a neighborhood walk.  We hadn't seen him gobble anything off the ground and just sat there, shrugging like fools.  Luckily, the folks at Beverly Oaks took nice care of the boy and nursed him back to his crazy self. When we came to pick him up Monday night, Dusty was so happy to see us, he peed all over my car.  Oh,Ten.  Seriously.


  1. God forbid (nod to Howie) you should have a NORMAL New Year's. Glad Dusty dusted off the bad drugs (that'll teach you to leave your meth laying around.) Here's to a better 10 for both of us. We're snowed in. AGAIN. Now it's just getting annoying.

  2. Dang! Forgot about the meth lab out back - kaboom! So snowed in is losing its charm? Burrr...