Sunday, June 13, 2010

An Ode to Marco

Just kidding. I'm really writing about the other smelly, hairy, un-bathed animal in my life.

Jazz!

Oh, Jazz.

About a month ago Jazz had some sneezing and appropriately semi-icky eye gook - pretty standard for dog allergies, and whatnot. Then two weeks ago, she started waking up with her eyes all stuck together, and I'd have to pry them apart with tissue paper, which would then just get stuck, and then it'd make her look like Lady Gaga:


...or Groucho Marx. Interesting, as I actually copied and pasted Lady Gaga's eyelashes onto Jazz's face. Hmm.

Anyway, one day she woke up and her eyes were completely glued shut, and she was bouncing off of everything and falling down more stairs than usual, so I decided to finally take the poor thing to the vet. Turns out minor allergies turned into a raging eye infection, turned into a raging skin infection, required a weed whacker to clear her poor face. Several hours of face clippings and a bottle of doggy tranquilizers later, and my poor, shaking, crying dog was deposited back into my loving arms.

She cried all the way home, and then some; it was heartbreaking. It's like having a crying, ancient, hairy, mute baby that can't defend itself or even hold its head up properly, poured into the passenger side seat, shaking for an hour long car ride.

Luckily today she's doing better, and other than the face... thing, the vet gave her a clean bill of health. July 22nd will be her fifteenth birthday, so appropriate festivities will ensure: adult diapers, non-solid foods, padding on sharp corners, and most important of all, a young caretaker to hold you and cuddle you, even when your face is dripping gook and you smell like you just rolled in mounds of trash. Which you probably did.

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