The following was written in the winter of 09-10, but I posted it back here in the 2008 archives because it's just depressing. Spoiler alert: the dog kicks it.
November 11:
I'm posting this shit because I'm a crazy dog lady and I'm just compelled, I can't stop myself. I'm all broken up over this motherfucking dog, so to counteract/redirect all the pain I'm going to drop fuck bombs all over this motherfucking joint. Because I have sensitive feelings about my sick dog, but I'm not gonna be all pussy in public about it. I'm brave on the outside. This wall of curses will make me even stronger and more invulnerable I bet. I might cry and shit, but only under the covers late at night, so you'll never catch me, bitches. Fuck you, don't look at me, I have allergies in my eye.
Here's some stupid fucking pictures of my fucking cute as shit dog, Dolphinhead Seizuredog:
Dolphinhead's best friend Juanita has been by her side while she's been sick. Yeah, they hold hands in the car, stupid asshole dogs. Juanita's the fucking little one on the right.
This is from the time when Dolphinhead first started her anti-seizure meds and fell into a planter and then went to sleep. Juanita decided to keep her company in the planter. Juanita is a sensitive pussy.
Dolphinhead sleeps on a towel for when she pees in her sleep. Juanita is worried about her. I'm anthropomorphizing her because I'm an asshole. Fuck me.
Dolphinhead returns from the ER after a hard night, and falls asleep in my vagina. If I had a nickel...
November 13:
Dolphinhead thinks she's hot shit because she can clean ears. She's such a show off. There's nothing worse than a braggy dog. These dogs are nothing but a burden.
Yeah, we kiss sometimes, so what? She probably just wants my food. Dick move, pup. I can see right through your ruse.
November 22:
Dolphinhead Seizuredog continues to hang in there, like the proverbial kitty from the tree branch. She eats like a hobbit and continues to clean the other dogs' ears, so she's happy it seems. The thing that is giving me the creeps, though, is that because the tumor is on her skull above her eye, her eyeball recedes into her head every time she yawns, leaving a gaping hole for just a second. Argh matey!!
I've been walking her around the block off-leash, because I DARE YOU, CARS!! MAKE MY FUCKING DAY!! SHE'S A DOG ON THE EDGE WITH NOTHIN TO LOSE would be the opening line in the preview of the movie of her life.
As promised, or...I think I promised, or maybe I mentioned it, or maybe I was talking to myself...
This is Dolphinhead Seizuredog (aka Franny) the day I found her at the pound 11 years ago. They said she'd been dropped off because her owners didn't want her anymore, but I soon discovered she would cower when I picked up anything resembling a broomhandle or a stick, so there's more to that story I guess.
I loved her instantly.
Here she is with her cellmate, Zooey the Poopmaster Magnifico, aka Gaflooven Flooven from an earlier post. I took them home the same day.
I just realized I've forgotten to swear today. Right. Stupid cuntbag pups. Fin.
I just realized I've forgotten to swear today. Right. Stupid cuntbag pups. Fin.December 9:
Dolphinhead hasn't had a seizure in over a month, but her bloodwork shows that her liver and kidneys are failing, which is either due to the strength of her meds or the cancer spreading. There's really nothing we can do about it.
Currently she's lying next to my chair, and I swear to God the stank of stale beefy pee from her ass fluff area is overwhelming. I can't help leaning over and whispering, "I...I can smell yer cunt" a la Jodie Foster in Silence of the Lambs. But then I feel bad for that, and I reassure her that I can't really smell her cunt. It must be somebody else's beefy cunt area that I'm smelling.
Is she planning to die on my birthday? I see her life like the big spin on Price is Right, and the wheel's slowing down and the section with my birthday is approaching and the wheel goes "plinkplinkplink...plink.....plink.......pul-ink....." and it's gonna stop right there on December 23. A few years ago my cat died on my birthday. Like, AT my birthday dinner, in a box on the side table. (What? You don't keep your cat in a box? It was a big box, lots of room to shift around, and I never kept the lid on or anything.)
No, just kidding, he was napping in there after a trip to the vet.
Death sucks. You can quote me on that.
January 2, 2010
We had her put to sleep today, in her favorite shady spot in the back yard. It was peaceful. She gave me a bunch of sloppy kisses right before she closed her eyes, which was nice because she hasn't done that for a while.
Not sure when this is going to stop feeling so bad. Everything hurts.
