God Must Be Crazy

March 06, 2013

On Friday night, we were out to dinner with another family. I was seated next to an eight-year-old little girl.

I suggested that the Lenten prohibition of Friday flesh wasn't in effect, since there's not a seated pope. She wasn't impressed.

"No, really. In fact, no sins count at all right now. You can do whatever you want."

The only response was a slight roll of the eyes, so I pressed on.

"In fact, we're all going up to North Baton Rouge after dinner to kill a couple of hookers. Wanna come?"

Either God didn't hear me, didn't care, or mellowed out since his Old Testament days of smiting and all. He certainly could have stuck it to me. And for a minute here, I'm not trying to be funny.

Thursday night, I woke up to Blossom thrashing and kicking on her back. She was knocking a toy ukelele into a metal coffee table, and it was a racquet that no one should have to suffer in the middle of the night. I was initially annoyed, but something was off just enough that I turned on the light.

I pulled her to me and held her tight until she settled down. I found myself covered in a stinky slobber. Bloss was exhausted.

Eventually, she pulled herself to her feet and started pacing the room. It took a while, but just as I started to doze off, she started another seizure. This pattern repeated until morning, when I took her to the vet.

They started her on some medicine and kept her during the day. She had another seizure there, so they knocked her out again.

When I brought her home, she was the happiest dog ever. She went to every human and animal with the happiest singing in greeting. She tried to settle down, and had one more seizure (but a quicker one) right before we left to eat. And then I had the nerve to make fun of God.

That was Friday night, and knock on wood, that was the last of them. I guess this medicine is going to work. She wouldn't leave my side Saturday, but now, she's back to her normal routine, which is pretty much just this:

benny - the link to this image is fucked

Hopefully, she'll be stinking up that dog bed for years to come. It turns out that I kind of like her.