Edsel loves himself because he purchased a black hood and sickle off Amazon. He keeps putting it on and standing behind Tallulah till she sees him and startles.
As a result, Edsel totally cockblocked my own knee-slapping hired-a-vulture-to-stand-at-Tallulah's-bowl joke.
We're a tough crowd at my house. And look, maybe it's a false positive. There is nothing in me that thinks it's a false positive. And I know people are asking what's next, and here's the part where I really really really don't want advice. There's a place in Raleigh I could take her, for aggressive treatment, or I could keep her as comfortable as possible and once I see one iota of suffering that's anything more than not being able to pee, which is awful enough, I can let her go.
And I think Ima opt for the latter. I don't know if you've Googled transitional cell carcinoma in dogs much, but look at my computer history, man. Once you get past all the shocking porn, you'll see a shit ton of research into TCC. The outlook is not good.
What is a shit ton? Like, do they just mean a ton of shit? Cause, oh. Yuck. Okay.
Because yesterday needed to get funner, I got a crown put on, and MAN did I get high off the gas they gave me. That was the highest I ever was, and I loped out of there like I was Courtney Love, and it occurred to me later that I probably should not have been driving. I think you're supposed to be just fine once they get you off that stuff, and usually I am, but I wasn't at all. Nice.
Today my tooth kind of aches, and I'm under strict intrux to not eat almonds, which probably means my all-peanut-brittle-all-the-time diet is out, as well. Oh! And get this. Yesterday after my tooth extravaganza, I fell into a drugged sleep for two hours, holding Talu, and when I got up I was hungry and feeling very sad for myself that no one was taking care of me. All the diet food I bought seemed chewy, so I said fuck it and ordered chicken fried rice from the Chinese place where they know me.
The delivery boy was new; some white kid who was probably 22? 25? 32? God, they all look alike to me now that they're young. Anyway, my dogs ran to the porch to greet him, and he said, "This is such a stress reliever. I'm having a horrible day." He told me about his Golden Retriever and I told him about Tallulah, and Edsel ran and got his hood and sickle to show off for company, and he must have stayed 20 minutes, talking to me. We totally bonded, this 23-to-32-year-old person. I shoulda just tapped that, right? Like in a dirty movie? Like in my computer history?
Lemme go look in my computer history, see if I actually find anything dirty. You ready? Here's what I looked up yesterday.
- Bladder cancer in dogs
- Accuracy of TCC test for dogs
- Compose a Typepad post
I am distinctly unfascinating. Let's do a day where you tell me what's in your history RIGHT NOW. Last five things, don't lie.
I think either Lexapro makes it so I don't care that I'm not having sex, or not having sex makes me not care that I'm not having sex. And I know you're all, Weren't you, like, dating the world? And I was, for a week or two, but I decided it was premature. I am not over Ned, and I know you want to punch me right in the cock for that, but it's true.
And you know who's been most helpful about my dog? Two of Ned's ex-girlfriends. I was thinking we should start a private Facebook page. NedEx Facebook page. Anyway, one of them worked at a vet's office for ages, and one had a dog with cancer, so.
A Corgi. She had a Corgi. I knew you were going to ask. I know how you are. Did you ever run into someone you used to work with or whatever and find yourself asking about their dog even though they have kids? Is that just me? "And how is Shadow?"
So that's all my news here. I'd say that's enough. I get another statistics textbook today, which is good, because bills. Dog bills. Whatever happened to the dog is sick, take her out back and shoot her?