Reasons why Calvin and I are very similar:
1) We have both proven difficult to housebreak (thanks Mom…I’m doing pretty well now)
2) We are both adorabe beyond all reason (thanks Newf…so true)
3) We both have sensitive stomachs. For Calvin, this relates back to number one. Not for me though, I want it to be very clear that I’ve mastered the bathroom thing…
This morning we returned to the vet after more than a month with no change to
his tummy troubles. The poor guy has to go every hour and is not digesting his food very well (sorry to Kimberly, whose floor he pooped on yesterday). We had him thoroughly de-wormed just in case and switched him over to a hypoallergenic brand of food. Two weeks of getting worse finally turned good when he seemed better than ever for three days. I rushed to The Three Dog Bakery to let them know the good news – that I will be able to pay their mortgage with the amount of specially made, organic treats that I would buy (see doggie timbits).
The bakery is where I go to talk about my puppy nonstop and people will actually listen. Kind of like my blog…only in real life…. As I’m standing there telling them how much better his stomach has gotten, Calvin is in the corner having a massive, runny, poop on their floor. Needless to say, I spent some money so they wouldn’t hate my guts.
Calvin is now on doggie pepto bismol for a week and a new brand of food – if you can even call it that – for two months. The stuff is basically every tasty ingredient broken down to the enzymes. What does that mean? I think it’s all the nutrients stripped of taste and eating pleasure: Low molecular weight Hydrolyzed protein. Crunchy, nutritious, $50 per bag, air.
If he gets better on this food, it means that it’s a food allergy and not something wrong with his insides. That would be best. Then we work our way backwards by trying to figure out what he can and can’t handle in his belly. Until then, we keep our fingers crossed and hope he doesn’t hate us like a kid sent to fat camp.
Here’s the kid wrestling with his brother and being put to shame obedience-wise.
Related:
The long-awaited puppy post
They never showed this part on Scooby Doo
{ 21 comments… read them below or add one }
Aine: Oh come on…just ONE story. For me?
Leigh: Christ…what a shitshow of a night.
Adminderella: Hahaha pre-Katy Perry too, I bet? When I was in Ireland I had a shot that was different liqueurs layered to make the Irish flag. It was pretty much a one-way ticket to drunk town.
MissTiff: I’m so sorry in advance.
Carolyne: Am I distracted by keys like a cat? Perhaps…
RS27: hahahahaha
Megkathleen: Ooh. I never looked at it that way.
Dolce: Meh. I lost all shame that night.
Renee: Oh please do…
Nicoleantoinette: Ugh. You’ve been warned.
PrincessPointful: I agree.
JL: My mom reads my blog. But she already knows what a mess I’ve been.
There were weekends in college? It was that much fun. I can’t write about it on my blog though because my mom sometimes reads it and I want her to keep liking me. I don’t think she thinks I’ve ever been drunk.
Bother.
I always find that shirtlessness in unexpected locales is the epitome of classiness.
Ha, I am clearly interested in the rest of the story.
One day I’ll tell you about the night I stayed up drinking wine until 6am with a Portuguese guy, two Australian dudes, and an Irishman in Paris… it ends with me getting felt up in a hostel kitchen.
Those were the days…
Ahhhhh! I’m pretty sure we would destroy our livers together. I have more stories like this than i would care to admit. Love it that you can though!
Yeeeahhhh…this same thing happened to me when I was 21. The only thing is I think it’s easier to get away with being topless when you’re a guy than when you’re a girl, but at least I didn’t end up with a concussion.
So those topless photos of you on another website are not you then?
You have been caught in your lies!
I vaguely remember dangling keys in front of your face at Tribeca, apparently thinking it would convince you to please, for the love of god, put your shirt back on. Clearly, it failed.
First off, I’m glad we are friend on Facebook because I am totally going to Facebook to read the remainder of the story. Second, I’m glad I’m not the only one who has drunken related embarrassing moments like that. I never cracked a rib though while being drunk but, I did end up with a concussion and on crutches for almost a month after a certain incident.
This story has the most amazing rock video forming in my head. I'll have to check Facebook for “the rest of the story…”
I'm given to drinking the rainbow (ordering a red drink, a blue drink, a purple drink, etc) and think probably the most “out of character” thing I've ever done was to appear much more wasted than I was so I could plant a tongue kiss on a lady friend because I knew she had a crush on me. She actually stood there, stunned & motionless, for a good 3 minutes afterwards. I later claimed total amnesia regarding the event, but only so she wouldn't be expecting an encore performance….
oh do i EVER remember this night.
I also – sorta – remember going to the bartender (in Tribeca) and ordering “two shots of…anything”
i think this lead to quite the downward spiral.
and the dancing, pre-bathroom tumble, was something to be reckoned with. we were dancing machines.
hahahaha
damn.
Ugh, I can’t publish my own drunken stories. Unless you’re from PEI and were a heavy partier in the early 2000′s, you can’t possibly appreciate how nasty it really is to drink until you’re puking on the outside wall of a club called “The Velvet Underground”, known affectionately by the locals as “the Vug”.
Or there was that time when, while waiting in line for Peake’s Quay, my friend and I ran off to pee in an alley. This is much easier for guys than it is for girls, as we learned.
Beach toga parties, parties in the neighbourhood called “the junkyard”, police breaking up in-house raves in Brown’s Court, juggity-jugs at The Wave, my 80-year-old neighbour who actually made moonshine… man, I’m suddenly getting homesick.
It’s a shame that my memory is as bad as a 90 year old alzheimer’s patients b/c I can’t remember hardly any of my drunken stories. Although I do have one very excellent one. It includes a gyro. I’ll leave it at that and try to get it typed up.
Dancing like your ass was on fire?
can I use that one?
Oh Ben…. You sweet thing. I don’t remember anything about college weekends, but we’ve already agreed I’m an alcoholic. Newf must love you mucho much.
oh yes! meters of beer…i ended up “walkin’ it out” (read: making an ass of my self trying to do the latest dance alone of the dance floor) in atlanta after having ordering those consistently thoughout the night with the exes family who i had just met. awesome.
I’m not sure I could top your story. I’m quite tame compared to this. I may try to dig something up though! Just for laughs.
These stories are so great when you aren’t the one they happened too. Hilarious
And I think I would definitely be intimidated by your shirtless physique.
I am immediately going to facebook for the remainder of this story. Do not pass go, do not collect $200. This story is too good to end here.
Ohhhhh Ben. This is why I love you. I’m somewhere around 99%-100% sure that if we ever hang out we will both end up dead. Unless the newf is there for supervision–he’s our only hope.