My little cone head

So as I posted last week my furry little satan dog went in for the great gender neutralizing surgery.
Since it was considered major surgery (and I'm sure you gentlemen are saying "damn skippy!")
He had an overnight stay at hotel de Colonial (thats the vet)
and sweet jesus, I had forgotten how quiet and peaceful my house was before Cujo masquerading as Old Yeller arrived...Thursday night was so serene and peaceful...::sigh::

Friday morning I arrived to pick up said poochie, hoping to see my much calmer beautific angel coming quietly trotting out (medicated to the gills...natch)
But instead out shoots the hellbeast...still much like trying to teather a tornado..only now theres a funnel on his head...which he has used judiciously in the last week to bruise each one of us by head butting us.
This cone for you none-pet owners is to keep said pet from munching on his incision..yummy thought that is..

Three things I have discovered about the "cone"
1. when Gretzky goes into a room and attempts to turn around and leave said room he shuts himself in the room. he has locked himself in the bathroom three times so far...this is funny.
2. when he drinks water, it pours out of his funnel like a waterfall, this is not so funny.
3. Sneaking up on him is much easier, but he retaliates by "coning" you.

It's due to come off the end of this week, I wonder if it will be like a brand new world for him...

Use em...or lose em..

Tomorrow is the day..

Gretzky..aka the Great One will be going under the knife to become....
Gretzky...aka "No Nuts"
And not a moment too soon either...theres a saucy little Chihuahua down the road thats taken quite a shine to my posturing pooch and has been finding excuses to scootle past our house.
Not to mention his new favorite person greeting...wag tail..walk around the back of the person and stick his nose practically in their arse while taking deep sniffies...blurg.

Trallop.

I think Brutus knows, he's been giving me that patient 'He'll get his..oh yes he will" look ever since he heard me make the appointment.

This morning I sang the "Gretzky's getting his nuts chopped off" song
And that silly dog danced right along with me...
Vin just glared at me and kept saying "Thats not funny..thats not funny"

He's getting a special din din tonight...its not his favorite (because that clumping cat litter is a BEEOTCH to get out of his teeth) but its a close second...yum yum bologna and cheese sammiches!

Love hurts...and I've the limp to prove it

I'm in a dysfunctional relationship that is going to put me in traction.

I had a soccer game last night...oh and Sunday night...and I've got one tomorrow night...and then again on Saturday.

I am in pain..I got knocked over last night...repeatedly.

Large offensive (and I mean positionally) woman kept losing control and steam rolling me.

I was knocked down 4 times, I have bruises all over my arms and a HUGE one on my elbow from the last tumble where I hit my head on the ground so hard I bit my tongue.

Add this to the usual aches, pains and maladies and I'm moving like I was hit by a truck..and look like I've been drafted into the roller derby.

GOD I LOVE SOCCER...I only wish it didnt love me so much..

A snip in time..

Gretzky's going in the for the snip snip soon.

Whoever said if it's got testicles its trouble...knew what they were talking about!

My adorable puppy has turned into an asshole...and either the nuts go...or I'm letting the cat kick his ass.

Oy!

Back to school...

Its raining. It's pouring. Back to work is boring..

Ok seriously, its the first day of school for my darling little angel.

4th grade.

He insisted on wearing shorts (even though its a bit of a cold downpour) and his clothes dont match.

The lovely nutritious breakfast I had planned was scrapped in favor of "Reeses Puffs cereal" and a handful of M&M's.

The dog drooled all over his backpack, and he informed me that "wearing a rain poncho is GHEY mom" and only grudgingly accepted an umbrella.

It's going to be a lovely lovely year....so officially begineth the pre-teen years.

Meh.