Wednesday, April 11, 2012

Slugs

So what have I been doing since the girls left last weekend?  As little as possible. I made a supply run to the nearest grocery store on Saturday morning once the teen headed for the airport.  The only time I left the house for the next two days was when I took the dog out for potty breaks in the back yard.  I stayed in my loungy pants or stretchy shorts topped with some ancient t-shirt and my yellow chenille bathrobe over the top of my little ensemble.  No makeup, day old hair pulled back into a ponytail, ill-fitting glasses instead of contact lens... though I did brush my teeth because you just can't be too careful about gum disease at my age.  I did take a walk on the wild side and omit flossing because I'm just that kinda rebel.  But the toothbrushing... I don't know that recessed gums can kill you, but why risk it.  


Of course, my little kid-free break wasn't totally free of responsibility.  Ollie, my furry little son, had to be fed and taken out to potty and entertained with some ball fetching.  He was the model child pooch until Monday when he snarfled up a slug on his first-thing-in-the-morning potty run.  The inevitable dew on the grass and damp back patio are a magnet for the slimey little critters and Mr. Intelligent got it swallowed before I could wrestle it out of his mouth.  


About 5 minutes later, once he got back into the house, he did his best imitation of a cat hacking up a hairball, only it was the slug.  Plus some foamy looking saliva.  And of course he didn't just do it in one place, but had to yack in three different spots in the family room.  Wouldn't you know, the edge of the couch was one of them.  Oh well - that's why God invented those handy antibacterial cleaning wipes I buy in bulk at Costco.  


The beast went to doggie daycare today and was in desperate need of a bath once he returned.  With his double layered coat, I find that he needs to be cleaned up every 7-10 days.  Once I bathed him, he acted like a maniac.  He's not a big fan of brushing, so I kind of have to wrestle him to get the job done.  Below is a short video of Ollie hanging out on the couch with me after his bath this evening, wrestling the brush into submission.  Must. get. life.





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