My very insightful mother-in-law told me when I was pregnant that RIcardo and I would spend many years talking about pooh. Frequency. Consistency. "Man, you should have seen what Baby A did today!" type of deal.
She was right. But nothing has prepared me for my conversations with strangers, nor monetary transactions involving pooh. It's Farley the Wonder Dog. Again.
The dialogue started with a call to the vet. Something like this:
Me to the poor lady who answers the phones at the vet: "Yes, Farley is on Prozac. And he seems to be happy, a bit over exuberantly happy. So happy in fact, he's pleasing himself. The dog is bragging...licking himself a lot."
Poor lady who answers the phones at the vet: "Um, ok. Is he licking 'himself' or his butt?"
"WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY TO ME!?" is what I wanted to respond with. But then I realized, indeed, he was licking his butt. "Wow. I guess it's his butt. Once he gets to that end, I guess I don't really pay attention to the details."
Still poor lady: "Okay, well, that's probably not the prozac. It might be his anal glands. He probably just needs have them expressed. When can you bring him in, and then if that's not it, we'll need to analyze his poop."
"Watchootalkinabout?" - Fine, I didn't say that. But my mother-in-law's words were ringing in my head, years after potty training, when will this pooh talk ever end?
So, I take him in to the vet. And I learned way too much about expressing anal glands than I ever thought possible. So much in fact, I think this may be a two part post.
That's how I roll.
