Sailor here.
I am drunk. Again.
Mom says she will NOT make jokes about drunken sailors, but that I am quite amusing.
I don’t feel amusing. I feel drunk. My legs wobble. My eyes don’t focus. My teeth hurt. Well, actually, one tooth hurts. Mom says it’s not my tooth the hurts because my tooth isn’t in my head anymore. It is somewhere else. Maybe Sock Heaven.
I was not happy when Mom took me back to the vet. Now, I like the vet. She smells friendly and loves me and pets me and doesn’t do rude things to my rear end for very long. But Zoe said that if I have to go back after seeing Dr. Karen, it won’t be fun.
And it wasn’t. I didn’t get any breakfast. I didn’t get a drink of morning water. Zoe and Jibby got both. I did not. So Zoe is right: it wasn’t fun.
And Zoe should know. She has had many vet visits and comes home drunk with pain pills and collars and all sorts of strange odors. And her breath smells awful!
I hope my breath doesn’t smell awful.
Jib gave me the dog scan with his nose, all over me, and then snorted.
“You smell awful,” he said. “What happened?”
I started to tell him that I went to the vet and sat in a crate and went into a room and jumped up on a table and then forgot everything until Mom hupped me into the Dog Car to come home. But then I forgot what I was saying. Mom says I went to sleep and the vet took out a tooth.
How can that be? I can still chew. I think. I can still bark. I think. I think I will try to chew and bark… tomorrow.
But I can still smell. Or at least I hope to smell again. All I can smell now is a funny smell.
When I got home, I stood in the doorway and looked at the deck. I looked at the deck for a long time. Mom says I was on screensaver. Jib stood by me to keep me from falling over. The deck was very interesting. I think.
Mom says I am stumbling about in a miasma of anesthesia fumes. She really talks like that.
Zoe says I had an operation and will be fine by midnight. I plan to be asleep at midnight.
But where is my tooth? If you find it, please keep it. I don’t want to go back to Dr. Karen to have it put back in.
I am drunk. Again.
Mom says she will NOT make jokes about drunken sailors, but that I am quite amusing.
I don’t feel amusing. I feel drunk. My legs wobble. My eyes don’t focus. My teeth hurt. Well, actually, one tooth hurts. Mom says it’s not my tooth the hurts because my tooth isn’t in my head anymore. It is somewhere else. Maybe Sock Heaven.
I was not happy when Mom took me back to the vet. Now, I like the vet. She smells friendly and loves me and pets me and doesn’t do rude things to my rear end for very long. But Zoe said that if I have to go back after seeing Dr. Karen, it won’t be fun.
And it wasn’t. I didn’t get any breakfast. I didn’t get a drink of morning water. Zoe and Jibby got both. I did not. So Zoe is right: it wasn’t fun.
And Zoe should know. She has had many vet visits and comes home drunk with pain pills and collars and all sorts of strange odors. And her breath smells awful!
I hope my breath doesn’t smell awful.
Jib gave me the dog scan with his nose, all over me, and then snorted.
“You smell awful,” he said. “What happened?”
I started to tell him that I went to the vet and sat in a crate and went into a room and jumped up on a table and then forgot everything until Mom hupped me into the Dog Car to come home. But then I forgot what I was saying. Mom says I went to sleep and the vet took out a tooth.
How can that be? I can still chew. I think. I can still bark. I think. I think I will try to chew and bark… tomorrow.
But I can still smell. Or at least I hope to smell again. All I can smell now is a funny smell.
When I got home, I stood in the doorway and looked at the deck. I looked at the deck for a long time. Mom says I was on screensaver. Jib stood by me to keep me from falling over. The deck was very interesting. I think.
Mom says I am stumbling about in a miasma of anesthesia fumes. She really talks like that.
Zoe says I had an operation and will be fine by midnight. I plan to be asleep at midnight.
But where is my tooth? If you find it, please keep it. I don’t want to go back to Dr. Karen to have it put back in.
No comments:
Post a Comment