I finally figure out how to program our DVR and what happens? Our cable company has a hissie fit with one of the networks and refuses to pay to broadcast that network. This is the same network hyping a new show about Robinson Crusoe — something I was interested in recording on the DVR. But, wait, we can’t get that channel anymore. Arghhhh — why is it that when I finally understand something, the rules change?
Puppy girl, aka the Golden Destroyer, is responding well to her medicine and her eye is less swollen than before. She’s not digging and scratching as much which tells me the combination of antihistamines and antibiotics are doing what they are supposed to do. She must return to see the Man in the White Coat with the Needles in another week or so for a follow-up, but I think we have her over the worst parts of this allergy. I couldn’t pick a normal dog — one who would eat Purina Dog Chow, play with one toy forever without destroying it, and never get sick. No, I had to choose EmmaLou, who seems to get every ailment coming down the pike, poor puppy girl. And of course, what happens when a pet has allergies? Why, that pet must be fed special pet food. EmmaLou is on a strict diet now (no people food) of Iams Fish and Potatoes kibble. Devoted Spouse refers to this as her diet of fish and chips. (There’s just nothing like a rambunctious dog wanting to give you a big sloppy kiss and as soon as she gets close, you are overcome with the reeking smell of tuna.) Let me tell ya, this stuff is no Purina Dog Chow — this food costs about $80 a month. Oh here’s a thought — I probably should have opted for the pet insurance when I had the chance. Silly me.
Are you as saturated with politics as I? The election can’t come soon enough for me. I can’t even bear to watch the news lately because all they focus on is the upcoming election. Obviously there is nothing going on in the rest of the world that could possibly be as important as our two buffoon candidates with their canned answers that truly tell us zero. I’m tired of the media bias, I’m tired of our local paper, the Dayton Daily Worker (it leans so far left it’s in danger of falling over), and I’m tired of the incessant commercials. C’mon November 4th! Then maybe we can calm down a bit and get back to the business of living.
Devoted Spouse and I stumbled upon an interesting tv show on the CMT network last Saturday evening — it’s called My Big Redneck Wedding and words fail me in trying to accurately portray what I watched. Call me a silly traditionalist, but I always thought a wedding cake should be simple, tiered, with a representation of the bride and groom on the top of the cake. This young woman was adamant that the pillars holding up the layers of her cake should be beer cans. Yep, beer cans. The groom actually used a saw (and wiped it on his grimy shirt beforehand) to cut the cake. There were skulls and bones of little animals the groom and his buddies had shot, displayed proudly on the reception tables and wait for this —- for a wedding present the bride gave the groom a racoon penis bone — I’m not making this up, truly. Words simply fail me.