My current Facebook Status is;
When it Rains it Pours
I am not kidding...here at the Anderle house it is Pouring...or should we say "POOR"ing. All this said "raining" of cats and dogs is costing us lots of money. LOTS.
Do you know that Pomeranian's bark? I mean they bark a lot and often. Our dog(I use the term "our" very loosely) barks at everything. She barks when keys are jingled, when she sees a leaf
blow by, and she even barks when I shift positions on the couch. I do not kid. So one would think that Amelia might bark when our barbecue is being stolen off our back patio right? No, she doesn't. But she does bark when I exclaim "Holy Crud, Our Grill is GONE!"
Thank you Amelia, thank you.
I was really excited to be bringing our youngest pet-child to the vet to check on this horrible limp that she has had all weekend and while I was packing up Keira so I could drop her off at my mom and dad's
I took a quick peek at our calendar. I noticed that today our middle pet-child was turning 6. Happy Birthday Bindi. Most people would do something nice like cuddle their cat, maybe get them a nice gift or even sing happy birthday to them. Me? no, I sigh and begin to feel depressed that she is only six. This means she will be around for, what, like another FIFTEEN years? I
though she was at least like 10 years old...and then I did the math and realized that our oldest pet-child is only 10.
So after packing everything you need to survive an entire 1/2 hour at grandpa and grandma's house, holding my 30 pound one year old, and my "obese" Pomeranian I lock the door and leave. Noticing one more time that we don't have a grill. I drop Keira off and make it the vet
with ten minutes to spare! (in most cases wonderful excepts the vet is not a fun place to spend an extra ten minutes). They did the exam on poor Amelia, who, is in obvious pain and find out that she has a "football" injury. This is VERY ironic for a couple of reasons;
1. See photo on the right. Amelia's "daddy" is a former football player.
AND
2. She got the injury while chasing a football this weekend at the
cabin.
Turns out Amelia has a ruptured ACL. Also what they would call a "football" injury. This is something that we HAVE to do surgery on, and I feel horrible because all I can see when I look at her now is money. You know in the cartoons when the wolf looks at the sheep in a field and they see a rack of lamb steaming on a plate? Yeah, I see a pile of money barking at the place my grill use to be.
When it Rains it Pours...Cats and Dogs. Cats that are far too young and "obese" dogs with ruptured ACL's.
I had to have one shot of the "oldest" pet-child and our
Favorite, most beautiful, most wonderful human-child too!
