Dog Days

Sometimes mornings are just yucky. First, my favorite sports team, the Green Bay Packers, totally collapsed last night on Monday Night Football. If you're a sports fan, you'll understand how this affects the next morning. Then, I exit our bedroom to a strange odor - oh great - the dog has puked in her crate. I won't go further - it's too icky. But then later, I take her out and she seems to have an upset stomach on the other end too. This is a smelly horror in a Golden Retriever. Lots of hair to cling to. So, I just spent about 30 minutes on the deck hosing the poor animal down. Good thing it's a balmy 45 degrees outside. Yuck, yuck, yuck.

Next, I get to look forward to going to my annual OB-GYN appointment. Every year I ask myself the same question: Why don't men have to go through this? It's like a manual, inside-out MRI. The least they could do would be to knock us out for this or give us a drink first. No, it's not painful, it's just....embarassing. There's no way around it. The only thing good about it is that it will be over soon.

On a positive note, my children did not fight or whine this morning. On the other hand, my daughter has totally lost the ability to wake up more than 20 minutes before we leave for school and therefore her bedroom looks like a FEMA disaster site every day. I'm debating how to handle this: Should I work around it and amend the rules, or dive into the foxhole and get ready for the war?

Somehow, the pet problems seem a little smaller right now.