My adoption agency job has a tendency to be feast or famine with the amount of work and I am definitely FEASTING right now. I don't have time to sit down lately, and that's on top of the other job and being Tank's ringmaster and zoo keeper full-time.
As if that wasn't enough, yesterday while Tank was watching a cartoon, he started some concerned-sounding grunts and pointed at the floor. I was sitting on the sofa with the coffee table between us, so I stood up to see what he was pointing at.
Scooter the Schnottie had dragged in a dead squirrel and laid it on the area rug. It was DISGUSTING...all holey and with bare, fur-less patches. I had to go get the dustpan and the broom and I jabbed it with the broom handle (gag, gag) to get it onto the dustpan (gag, gag) and then hot-footed it out of my house, with the poor little thing flopping in a Very Dead Manner from side to side. GAG.
As I bolted out the door with Angus the Late Squirrel, Shawn pulled into the drive and I ran up and shoved the dead squirrel in his face and said, "You shoulda gotten here 5 minutes ago!" Then, I handed him the dustpan and went inside to wash my hands. A lot.
Yark.
And now my dog has Squirrel Breath.
Double yark.
0 comments:
Post a Comment