So, for a while now Herbert has been seriously ill. I have been making notes and planned on writing it all up in my “spare time”. It turns out that I don’t have that so I’m just going to blah blah blah at y’all whenever I think of it.
In the past 24 hours I have either said or thought the following things that, looking back, should not be things humans should have to say or think:
● If I step in one more [insert profanity here] pile/puddle of vomit I’m just going to just lay down and cry.
● So help me, I WILL find the right size sock to make Herbert a jaunty legwarmer! [I did, it’s not just for fashion, it’s to keep him from endlessly licking his disgusting elbow wound.]
●*Herbert jumps onto bed, I put phone down guiltily* I wasn’t looking at well bred dog breeds with genetic testing that would make good service dogs, why are you looking at me like that?
● I have to set up my meds for the week. [Insert Expletive Here], I’m out of that med….oh wait, Herbert’s on it too, I gave him 4 of mine last week……
● I need to download a new medication organization app for Herbert [then spent 45 minutes setting it up].
● *Hears vomiting from other room* Honey!?! Yeah, check and see if that has rocks in it. If it does, don’t let him re-eat it. [Herbert ate rocks. Herbert ate rocks after stealing a bag of dry cat food and tearing into it outside on the gravel and as is my life now, what Herbert eats; Herbert pukes.]
● *wakes boyfriend* Honey, sorry….I need you to get up. Yeah, Herbert jumped up here and vomited on me and the bed. *changes sheets with efficiency; embraces being forever grossed out*